TRUST

As I tossed the salad for dinner I thought I had never been this embarrassed in my life. I could not believe that my husband stormed into my chamber with only a reason to believe that I was cheating on him. How could he? Has he no faith in me? After all we had been dating for four years before our courtship of two years and even after three years of marriage he does not trust me?

I heard his car drive into his parking space. I fumed. I never ask him details of his business trip where he has to take along his personal assistant who looks half horny and half nymphomaniac. I have never asked him why he has to overnight even when there is no meeting around.

It was time to settle it. It was either the typical Indian woman way to scream shout and get tired and go to sleep. Then wake up the next day like a loser. Or something needed to be done.

It was a choice I had to take and I had taken my decision. Something needed to be done and I would do it.

I dimmed the lights, put on some music. Something that was going to suit the actions that would take place so the best song that was suiting the mood was by Cutting Crew and the song was ironically called “Died In Your Arms “.

I went back to table to prepare the dinner. In he comes dropping a file and saying “oh you look like you are in a mood to murder”. Look at the guts on this man. Joking like nothing had happened today. But I kept my cool and replied “yes I am”. Good for him he sensed the hostility coming from me. That shut him up for the while.

We sat down and finished our dinner. Our only words were pure silence. After dinner we sat on our sofa as usual. Silence still prevailed. Out of guilt he broke the silence and said “Look I am sorry for what I did today. I should not have behaved that way with you. I……… I should have trusted you. Will you forgive me?” Forgive you. Look at the way this guy talks schoolboy charm. Any woman would forgive him no matter what he had done to her. But it was not going to work with me. He put his arms around holding like a scared child holds his mother. He kissed me. Oh the confidence this man had that he would get away with what he did today. As I reached for my purse I reminded myself of the old medical training days when we were being taught how to stick a needle in the vein without giving the patient feeling of anything.

I broke him off and then looked into eyes and said “you don’t trust me, you did not trust me in the hospital, you“ he tried to cut me with something starting with an ‘I’. But I put a finger to his lip and continued” you never trusted me when I replied to you”. “Replied to what?” he asked innocently. “When you asked” I said moving my fingers along his hand to his hand, taking my hand out of his and once I reached his elbow vein I completed my sentence “whether I was in mood to murder I said yes but did not trust me, you should have trusted me.” Those were my last words to him as I looked into his eyes I saw shock and surprise as I stuck an empty injection in veins and I emptied the vacuum from the injection into his veins. I still loved him so I did see him die. I got up with the evidence in hand and left with my purse in hand knocking over something like a little bottle but I did care. I bribed the gate keeper who was any way going back to his village the next morning for the crop season not to tell anyone that I had walked out so late in the night. I made sure that even if he did return he should not be seen around this part of the city. I broke it and threw it the dump outside our apartment. I had parked my car outside the compound so that no one suspected I was home. I made sure no body saw me when I went into my apartment.

He was found dead next morning. When neighbors failed to get any response they had to break down the door. Those bastards, could they not see how beautiful the door was?

The police found fingerprints of two types, a man’s and a woman’s. Real Sherlock Holmes. Obviously it had to be my husband’s and mine. The post mortem was done in my hospital by the same man who he suspected me with. Oh the irony?

The police closed the case and announced it was a case of suicide with the post mortem report (courtesy dr.Imran, my friend) suggesting an overdose of sleeping pills. He was in habit of sleeping pills, yes he was and the last bottle had finished the previous night which I made sure to place near the sofa before he came. His entire property worth nearly rupees six crore had been signed to my name that same day; yes the file he kept when he came in was his will. He wanted to prove that he loved me. But seeing me in a bad mood he got nervous, he always used to. The police had handed me the will after verifying it with his lawyer. I was yet to sign it.

A year after that night Imran proposed to me. I obliged because he knew how to love a woman unlike my late husband, who loved me like he was singing a silly dopey song. As you might have guessed by now, yes I was unfaithful to him. Imran had been and now is my partner. My partner in passion and my partner in crime. Passion and crime. Only God knows how long these two words had been each others‘partner. I gave half the money I got from the will because he risked the post mortem. But the money matter is acceptable because I love him most importantly he “trusts” me.

I

He is the person who understands me best. His outlook is just like mine. Maybe that is why he has sympathized with all my failures right from my childhood. He gave me strength during my parents’ divorce. He kept me company while my mother partied late nights. He kept me company when my father was on business tours for months. He stood by me when all the kids in school picked on me on seeing me talking to my friend. They could not see him but I did and I liked him and was what mattered most to me.

All through my life I talked to him. All through my life he listened to my questions and replied with the best answers.

There was this one time I really liked liked this girl. I was talking to her outside our college gate when her boyfriend came along. She hopped into his car and they rode off. I wanted her, but how was I to get her? So I went to my friend and took his suggestion. I liked what he said and did exactly that.

Two days later the other boy’s body was found in his car in the back of an abandoned factory. His face was beyond recognition. It was stabbed with something made of glass, probably a bottle because a four inch long piece of glass was also found to have gone right through his throat.

The police questioned me because they found my cell phone in his car. I was convicted because the piece of glass had fingerprints which had all the similarity in the world with mine. My parents were probably scared that I would go to jail so they pleaded with the judge that I was mentally unwell and had me moved to an asylum. It was nice seeing my parents together. If I had known they would come together on occasions like this one I would do things like this all the time just to see them together.

They left me alone again when I moved into the asylum. But my friend never left my side. He was there with all the time in the asylum cell. We are inseparable. Like Calvin and Hobbes.

Oh! I but totally forgot to tell you his name. His name is I. Whatever he does I do. So I named him I. I is the only friend I have. I is the best friend I have in this entire world. I, my best friend.

Some Days

Some days everything goes wrong. You are tired from fieldwork of the previous day. You sleep like a baby. Your phone's battery died out but you do not care to charge it. You wake and realize that you had alarmed your clock 2 hours early. You go to sleep. You wake up and your two hours late. You go in to take a shower and tank is dry. You don't really take a shower but you get ready and leave. You hurry on and wait for conveyance. You don't find a bus on the street which looks creepily deserted. You finally get down at your stop. You rush for you work. As you confront your office building you realize that you never took your change back from the conductor and you just lost forty bucks. Then as you enter your office the guard rudely stops you and asks you why and where do you think your going? You feel like smacking the chum right there at the door. But he smiles and tells you "Sirji aaj to office bandh hai. Kal announce kiya tha office mein. Aapko phone nahi kiya kya?". It was given off because the turnover had exceeded everybody's expectations so the chairman himself flew down and gave everybody an appraisal and a day off. It was good for every body but me. Because as I set foot towards home I realize drops splattering on my head. At first I thought it was rain because I see very cloudy skies up and ahead of me. But it was much worse. I see a bird, yes a bird, that just relieved itself on my head. I picked up a leaf and wiped myself. But as I reach the bus stand a heavy wind blows the bus stand shed away and it starts to rain on my head. Now today my office is closed but I rushed to in and now I am standing in middle of nowhere with rain pouring on me. As I said some days things just don't go right.