Almost as if he is helpless and ecstatic at the same time, a smile rests on his face and he leaves the couch for the first time at 11 o’clock this Sunday, with a loud sigh. I meet no resistance as he meticulously fills up all the bottles, stacks them at their anointed place and even wipes the slab clean and keeps the rag back in its designated spot. I could have a lot of complaints against him, but I could not accuse him of being a sore loser. His chore done, he hugged me from behind, nuzzled my neck gently and planted a soft kiss just above my ear, and whispered, ‘You can’t use it again for the entire day.’
Over the years, the most effective way of getting things done from Vikrant has been to tell him to do it, ‘for Sachin’. I have been using this tactic since before India won the World Cup for Sachin in 2011, or it became a popular hashtag on Twitter. I made him do the art work for my science practical this way. I also employed the same strategy to make him tell his parents that he was keen on being a filmmaker. It did not work with them but at least the matter was out in the open. ‘For Sachin’ worked when I wanted him to plant our first kiss on my lips and then later when I was ready for much more.
Our friends and family were convinced that marriage was the next step and the best thing that could happen to us. They tried to reason with him and emotionally blackmail me, or in their words cajole me. They failed miserably with him. I was an easier target. I could not resist the festivities associated with a big wedding, the shopping, the fun, and the fact that I would be at the centre stage. The promise of wonderful gifts also tilted the scales in the favour of the wedding. Conveniently, the burden of convincing Vikrant was placed on my less than slender shoulders.
I knew, I could have at the onset just said, ‘Do it for Sachin’ and the whole thing would have fallen into place. I am an adventure-loving girl, so I decided to take the difficult road. I reasoned with him. Did not work. Generally, my tears wore him down. Did not work this time around. He tends to weaken when faced with a well-orchestrated tantrum. But that failed too. Using sex as a weapon would never work. Frankly, it never even crossed my mind. That part of our relationship was sacred, never to be used for any manipulation. Historically, he used to come around as soon as I was ready to give up. My giving up also did not seem to work this time around.
Months passed. Friends and family found fresh preys to bug about marriage and settling down. Someone else was led to temptation by promises of wonderful gifts, endless shopping sprees, and never ending festivities. According to our friends and family and even us, Vikrant and Trisha were a couple who would live out their days, laughing, fighting, nagging, chilling, and travelling.
TV was the focus of our living room and on days when India was playing cricket (which was everyday if you ask me), of our lives. My nagging increased on such days and during the worst of our fights, Vikrant addressed me as Nag-eshwari. The glint in his eyes very much intact during the teasing. Generally, while Dhoni and his men led India to victory or losses, I sat on the bench below the window, a cushion supporting my back, a cushion covering the bulge of my tummy, engrossed in a good fat novel, or a thin romantic Mills and Boon. A bowl of freshly popped corn and a tumbler of cola or juice were faithful companions. Since, I am a large hearted person I always served a fair share of popcorn and cola for Vikrant as well.
One such Sunday, after a breakfast which could fight its case to be called brunch based on the hour it was relished, we were on our coveted seats. Very unlike him, Vikrant intermittently kept calling me to see a shot that Kohli parked out of the field. I, just like the umpire kept ignoring pleas by the opposing team, ignored all of Vikrant’s calls. Just when the hero of the MB I was devouring was going to profess his love to the girl and kiss her, Vikrant towered over me. In all these years, I had never seen him look at me so earnestly. He held out his hand, the slight movement of his neck prodding me to give mine into his. At this point, I just did not have it in me to say no, even though a part of me was dying to read how the hero professed his love, how the girl melted in his arms and how their love needed no more words for the intensity to be expressed and how they communicated all their love and passion through that one time-stopping kiss.
Alas, I got to my feet. The cushions tumbling here and there. Vikrant did not give me enough time to tidy up the spot. It was as if he was on a schedule and timing was everything. I plonked myself on the sofa facing the TV, my neck nestled in the hook of his arm, the bowl of popcorn resting in cavity that my crossed legs created. His right arm enveloped my shoulders and lightly dangled over my right side, stroking my bare arm out of habit.
Suddenly, all the fans in the stadium were holding up multitude of signs, all of which read, ‘For Sachin.’ There was ‘For Sachin’ in red, blue, pink, green. You name the colour and there it was in the stadium. Even I could not control my amazement at the scene. I squealed at Vikrant in amazement. And in a swift move I saw him bending on one knee, holding out a ring for me. The ring was a princess cut diamond resting on a platinum band, exactly like the one resting on one of my Pinterest boards for years. In the backdrop, the commentator seemed to be saying we hope that Trisha says yes to Vikrant. And the stadium chanting ‘For Sachin’.
Bewildered I looked at the TV and then at Vikrant who was looking at me as if waiting for me to comprehend it all. And hopefully soon since his knee was not used to carrying all his weight. From behind the veil of streaming tears I saw that the ring was inscribed. I almost snatched the ring from him. He thought he received his answer and was about to get up. But with the move of my forefinger I signalled him to continue sitting. At the same time, I took a closer look at the ring, it said, ‘For Sachin.’ I smiled. It was a perfect fit. I let Vikrant stand up so that he could hold me and we could have our own time-stopping kiss.
