Page 57 of No Other Love
It was still not easy four years later – juggling marriage, career, being a good and empathetic doctor and our family. But being in love and damned good at my job made it a little bit easier. Who said happy ever after came without sacrifice?
This was the first year that our entire family gathered in our apartment in Mumbai. The one I had bought for Vikrant and me, since he’d bought the Aronda house for us. It wasn’t a big one, just three rooms – one for us, one for guests or parents when they chose to visit and one that doubled as our home office. For now.
Yeah, it wasn’t easy. Some days, I had my doubts. But then Vikrant would look at me with eyes full of love and support and confidence and it renewed my hope. Push through the doubts.
‘What’s got you smiling, Dr. Anika?’ He murmured, putting a hand around my waist and hugging me close to him.
‘Just our life, Dr. Vikrant.’
***
It never failed to touch me, amaze me even when my wife, the strongest and most independent woman I knew would put her head on my shoulder and expect me to take over. It humbled me too. She was still the samechipkushe’d been when we were dating in another life, back in college.
Tonight, she wore a flowing gown made from one of the ten saris I’d gifted her last year, to keep the promise I made her on the night we began again. In the private beach villa at Kahini’s, the luxury resort. And it looked better as a gown than a sari, although I’d never get tired of unraveling Anika from a sari.
I looked at the people that made up our life. My parents, who were healthy and happy and thriving in their retired life – with the organic farm they’d started in the backyard of my home. Dr. Anu and her husband, the famed artist. My cousins and their better halves and children.
Anika’s parents who’d unbent a little over the years, especially after I earned all my letters and in quick succession. They didn’t even know how much Anika had contributed in my achievements. She was constantly quizzing me, passing me cheat notes and generally being a supportive pain in the ass that I had to pass the exams for her.
Four years of being with her again and she was still the best thing that happened to me. Not the degrees, or the accolades or even being the head of Aronda Multispecialty Hospital (thanks to a generous donation from the good folks at The Adya Foundation). I had stepped back from running the hospital because it was a lot of admin work, politics, structure and organization and required technical expertise and experience I did not possess.
In fact, Vivek stepped in and sent me some worthy candidates including the Dr. Dikshits who agreed to take over and turn AMH into an organization I was proud of. I only had one condition, that we had a free clinic that treated all the patients regardless of severity of illness along with the private arm of the hospital. The owners of The Adya Foundation agreed and helped me set up the fund to keep the clinic going for at least the next five years.
So now I was at a bit of loose ends, trying to think of how best to utilize my various skill sets.
‘I have an idea,’ Anika said putting her arm around my waist.
‘I love your ideas.’ Then I narrowed my eyes. ‘You don’t want me to paint the bedroom ceiling again, do you?’
Anika had a singular fetish. To have different shades of cream and white with some stenciled art shit thrown in. And she wanted it to be a couple’s project. She called it spending quality time. I called it torture.
‘I don’t.’ She kissed my chest, where my heart beat just for her. Always had been. Always would.
‘Then anything?’
She shrugged. ‘I was thinking of sending Aai-Baba and mom dad on a seniors’ cruise to Singapore. With Smita Kaki and Ramesh Kaka as buffers.’
I chortled. As in I made an inelegant noise that mixed a laugh and a snort. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’
‘I’m not.’ Anika was in full earnest. ‘Aai told me last week on our video call that she’s always wanted to see Marina Bay? I thought, why not?’
‘Why not?’ I mused.
“I worked out the tour itinerary and looked at some of the cruise information. You can figure out the budget and make your father agree to spending some of his hard-earned savings on himself.’ She nudged my shoulder.
‘You’ve thought about this a lot.’
‘Of course, I have.’
‘I love you, you know that?’ I touched her mid-length hair, that she’d let grow at my begging. I loved to comb her after fucking her into oblivion. It was my special brand of after care.
Love overflowed from my heart. Spilling out into the sky like the fireworks being set off by my buddies. ‘You’re the best wife ever.’
‘Bestpersonever,’ she corrected me automatically. Then she gave me a soft smile, all mine and precious. Letting in the vulnerabilities of love, of loving me shine in her luminous eyes. She wore a tiny nose ring and a tinier mangalsutra since it was a Diwali dinner. And I had a matching silver chain to match her symbol of marriage, along with the ring I took off. The ring she’d inscribed with the visarjan data – as the date we really began.
‘And I love you too, baby.’
‘I know.’ I booped her nose. ‘You’ve never loved anyone else. It’s not about to change anytime soon.’