CHAPTER 24 - XOXOs COME WITH AN EXPIRY DATE?!

Cyra noticed how Ahmed slowly turned into someone she no longer could associate with the man he was in Bangalore. It was not sudden but happened slowly. She watched him drift away like the dandelion seeds blown away by a gentle breeze. After months of returning from her home, she had been going through significant changes herself, which she did not imagine she would be doing. She hadn't imagined waking early in the morning and packing breakfast and lunch for her husband while she stayed home waiting for his return. She hadn't pictured herself taking care of the entire household, calling her in-laws for food as soon as it was ready and dining late after everyone. She hadn't even known she would have to plead with everyone to visit her mother occasionally. 

'Don't you remember today is Friday, and on Fridays, we finish cooking lunch and other chores before 1 pm?' Rabiya yelled from the kitchen after noticing the curry still boiling in the pan. She switched off the stove, removed the pan from it and cleaned the stovetop. 

'Nothing in this house goes right without my working on it? Why can't this girl be more alert? She can't give us a child and can't work either. I don't know what Ahmed saw in her. These educated women and their quirks. No culture. No proper upbringing. God help me save my family!' She mumbled to herself.

That night, Ahmed was very quiet at the dining table and chewed his food in silence. Rabiya kept complaining that the dosas were too oily, too dry, too thick, and too crispy, while Sara did not like the blandness of the three varieties of chutneys served. Ahmed and his father did not react and acted like they were used to this now. After finishing his food, Ahmed silently returned to his room, and Cyra took care of the rest. She opened his lunchbox from the office and was shocked to find food left untouched except for a handful or two. It was already spoiled, and she felt an ache when throwing away hours of hard work into the dustbin, might as well have slept peacefully for those two hours. 

'You haven't eaten today? Ahmed?' She called out hesitantly after making sure no one was around her door. The last time she had called Ahmed by his name, Rabiya had warned her against it. She said a woman should refrain from taking her husband's name because that's disrespectful, and it ended in a very unpleasant argument. So Cyra avoided it altogether unless they were in their room. 

'Cyra, did you taste the food you packed for me?' For which she nodded her head in the positive. The food lacked a bit of salt, and she realised it only after she had packed her food. So she placed a small packet of salt separately in the bag.

'The food was so bad. It was not even about the taste for me. But didn't you have the time to salt it well before packing? How do you expect me to mix everything myself amidst my work? You are so free at home. Why can't you just put in a little more effort for me?' It was not these words that hurt her because she had already heard him say such things over the past few months. It was what he said after. 'It has never been like this before.' 

Aah! What arrogance! How thankless can a man get? How much more can he fall? Cyra stood still even after Ahmed went back to sleep. She looked in the mirror, and she couldn't recognise herself anymore. She looked tired, and her eyes lacked the lustre that once was her best feature. She had been working for Ahmed and his family, leaving behind her own. When was the last she cooked her favourite food, or had Ahmed taken her out? When did someone last thank her for what she did for them? When was the last time she even did something for herself? She was so immersed in Ahmed's love that she no longer loved herself. She did not remember the last time she worked on her favourite piece of fabric, sewing it into a beautiful jacket. She saw herself turning into Aliza slowly and steadily. 

To be continued…

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