A Silent Love Story

This visit to Kolkata was after almost a decade. The last time I came here was before I moved to Hyderabad. My parents visit us every year. But I did not get a chance to see the city. This time, I made a point to spend at least a fortnight in the town and re-explore it the way I used to do back during my student days. The first thing I did was to catch up with my friends. Although we were in touch via social media, I longed to see and spend time with them. I called my best friend from college, Ujjaini, so we could catch up over lunch someday. She was a busy mama now, spending most days after her son and family. I laughed at how she spoke to me over the phone, hurrying and scolding his son between our conversations. What had happened to that kind girl who used to visit NGOs, taught special kids in her spare time and was the first to organize any charity for a serious cause? And despite that busy schedule, she used to make time for her friends, especially me, during my thick or thin. Considering her lack of time now, we decided to meet in front of her son’s school and then walk to our favourite restaurant, which was very nearby.

On the day of our lunch, I went to her son’s school a little early, at around 12:35. Ujjaini came after 5 minutes. She looked different now. The fashionable and trendy athletic girl from college had turned into a simple cotton saree-clad, bespectacled, serious-looking lady. Nevertheless, she was as beautiful as ever. “Ayan” she screamed like a child, seeing"me, "shedding her serious demeanour. There she was, back to her ever-youthful, jovial self. She hugged me tightly like she used to back then. I was a little sceptical, firstly because it's been a while, and secondly, people around us were looking at us, unaware of our relationship. A woman hugging a man in a public place was not something they were used to.

We went to our favourite restaurant, which was about 10 minutes walk from her son’s school. Her son, Shourya, was 7 and quite bright for his age. He kept asking me many questions, curious to know what her mother did when she was a student. We entered the restaurant, and Ujjaini booked a table for 4. After we settled on our table, Ujjaini spoke for the first time, “Ayan, why didn’t you marry?” I laughed coyly, “You said no to me, and I am still searching for another Ujjaini.” She laughed, her beautiful set of teeth shining like pearls. “You were too late that time.” I was surprised that on the day I proposed to her back at college, she gave me a strange reason for her no.

“Ayan, I am too busy now. I want an entire life dedicated to people with special needs.” She said back then.

“You can always do that even when you are with me,” I said impatiently.

“You will be angry.” She said confidently.

“Oh, come on, what makes you think I will be angry for such a noble cause?” I was irritated.

“I know you will someday.” She spoke while looking deep into my eyes. There was something so convincing in her eyes that day that I could not have words to defend myself.

“You said you would dedicate your life towards the wellbeing of those with special needs. But now I see you are leading an absolute family life. I am sure you could have done the same thing with me, too. I would have never objected to your choices or your career.”

She looked at me with piercing bright eyes, “That I am doing every day, every moment of my life.”

Her confidence and determined smiling face had started to annoy me now, “Come on Ujjaini, you could have done that if you were married to me. I have always waited for you.” I could not control my frustration as my voice raised.

“Papa,” Shourya’s voice distracted me. The little boy was waving at someone, and I saw a man my age approaching our table. He was handsome and had a child-like innocence on his face; he almost looked like an adult version of Shourya. Why was I angry? Was I jealous of this boyish man? He looked at me with curiosity, I could sense the nervousness through his eyes. While he sat on the chair across from me, Ujjaini said, “Meet my husband, Aranya.” She was making strange gestures with her hands while talking. She looked at him and said, “This is my best friend, Ayan”, her hands making strange gestures while she was speaking.  Aranya smiled at me and forwarded his right hand for a shake. Unwillingly, I shook his hand; why was he annoying me so much? And why was Ujjaini acting so strange? “What do you do, Aranya?” I asked him. He seemed to ignore my question and was looking at his wife anxiously. It angered me more; Ujjaini could sense that “Oh, he teaches at a school.” “What subject?” I asked, looking at him, this time raising my voice so that he could hear me. He was looking at the menu card, hardly paying attention to what I said. I was furious at his behaviour. “What’s wrong with your husband Ujjaini? He seems to be very rude. If he has a problem with me, I can walk out right now.”

Ujjaini looked at me; she was smiling from the corner of her lips, “Now see, Ayan, I had told you once you would get angry someday. Aranya can neither hear you or understand you. He is deaf in both ears and suffers from speech impairment. He only understands sign language.”   

“You knew him back then, didn't you?” I asked, holding back my tears.

“Yes, I did, and at that time only I decided, I would spend my entire life with him. I could not tell you, as you would have gotten angry like you are today, Ayan. He cannot say he loves me, but he is there for me and will be. So am I. We will be together for us and Shourya through love and silence.”

A drop of tear rolled down my cheeks; I felt like hugging her tightly this time.

Every year, the 3rd of December is celebrated as International Day for Persons with Disabilities. This short story is a small contribution from me towards this great cause.