A Rainbow for all Seasons

Love is in the air as Valentine’s Day just passed by. This story from our reader Usha Gayathrie could not have come at a better time saying it is never too late to find love.

The night was still and there was a welcome chill to the sultry Chennai November. The night sky was resplendent with the full moon and Revathi was lost in her own thoughts. Her reverie was broken by the persistent ringing of the phone. She consulted her watch. It was past 10 and in all possibility, it was her daughter Varshini calling from London. She had wanted Revathi to come over and help her with her second delivery. She had wanted her to come much before the due date so that she could continue working. Revathi picked up the phone with a smile on her face, expecting to hear an exasperated,“Amma”but was surprised to hear an animated sing-song voice greeting her instead. “Reva, how are you?” No one had ever called her that except her childhood friend Parvathi. “Paro is that you!” said Revathi, almost sounding like a girl. “No it is masala dosa.”Of course it is me!” said the voice on the other side.”Are you in Chennai?”Revathy asked her friend, “You pretty much disappeared years back.” “Yes I know Reva. But you know what, why we don’t catch up tomorrow?” Revathy gave Paro her address and the two friends signed off on that note.

Talking to her childhood friend had transported Revathy to the past. She recollected her college days and her carefree friendships. They were very close—Paro and Reva— almost like two sisters. They had gone to the same school and later got admission in the same college as well. Parvathi never finished her graduation. She got married to Varun, a software engineer from Colorado in the second year of college and after a fairytale wedding pretty much disappeared.

Revathi finished her graduation in Chemistry and married Vijay, a professor in IIT, Delhi. He was a supportive husband and she was able to finish her masters and get her PhD. She had become a lecturer in a Delhi University College when she discovered she was pregnant. They had an adorable child. Varshini was the apple of their eye. Revathi’s parents doted on their only grandchild. Life was smooth until lightning struck and Revathi’s secure world fell apart. Vijay was killed in a freak accident when he had gone to Amsterdam for a seminar. Revathi was eight months pregnant then. The shock numbed her for a while but she knew she had to be brave for her children’s sake. Varshini was only two then. Revathi moved to Chennai to be near her parents. Her husband had no family of his own. His parents had been killed in an accident when he was six and he was brought up by his grandmother who was no more.

Slowly, Revathy began picking up the pieces of her life. Varshini and Ramesh were exceptionally bright and obedient children. She got a job as a senior professor in a prestigious college in Chennai and with hard work became the HOD and then the Principal. She had won many awards for academic excellence and for being a woman achiever. Both her kids were settled in US now. They would call her frequently to visit them but she always felt lonely there. She looked at herself in the mirror—all of 55 but looked much younger, mainly because of her small build and her childlike innocent eyes. Her hair was untameable and frizzy but that was also the appeal of her personality. She would wear crisp and starched cotton saris to work but her casual attire comprised more of kurtis and jeans.

The next day she was waiting for her friend when the bell rang. Parvathi stood there looking radiant in a bottle green Kanjeevaram sari, a bright red bindi and flowers. Revathi hugged her. “Paro, what’s with you and the sari. But you look pretty. “That’s because Shekhar loves it. By the way meet my husband Shekhar Banerjee. We got married three months back,” Paro said.

Over steaming cups of coffee, Shekhar excused himself to go for a walk leaving the friends alone. “Reva, I know you are itching to ask me questions. Shoot!” Paro said laughing at her. Revathy asked the first question that came to her mind. “Paro what happened to Varun?” “Twenty four years, Reva, for 24 years I was married to Varun and one day out of blue, he just left me for another woman. He said he was bored in the marriage. For a while, I was almost numb with grief. I found myself single after all the years. All I knew was to cook and look after my family, which ironically was no more. My daughter and son have their own lives and all I had was a nagging loneliness. I took a job to regain my composure in an Indian firm of lawyers and met Shekhar in a party three months ago. We were both alone and took to each other like a house on fire and well here we are a happily married couple.”

Revathi stood transfixed. Married at 55 didn’t make sense to her.

The doorbell rang and Shekhar entered. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your girlie talk,”he joked. Girlie Talk indeed! What was wrong with him. Revathi wondered. Paro was all pink and when Shekhar kissed her Revathi had to look away. Not that she was a prude but she always thought public display of affection was reserved for the younger crowd. But today when she looked at this couple, she felt something inside her. The brief marriage she had shared with Vijay was good and stress free. He was a responsible husband and a good father but there was none of the spark she was witnessing with this couple. Having spent a whole life dedicated to books of biochemistry, this chemistry of a different sort baffled her. She had convinced herself long back that romance for her was a closed chapter.

Later on, as Paro helped Revathi clear the table and tidy the kitchen, she asked her the most difficult question. “Reva, how are you?” A seemingly harmless question but Revathi knew exactly what she was asking and she loved her enough to answer. “Paro, I am okay. A principal at the city’s most prestigious college, two kids married and well settled, one grandchild and one on the way, a cozy home, a car, money in the bank for rainy day…”Paro listened with a smile as Revathi reeled off her various assets. “And someone to share it with?” Paro almost whispered. Revathi was visibly upset. “What do you mean Paro? What more at my age can I need?”

“A relationship, a man…” Paro’s voice was very soft when she said that as though she knew she was treading difficult ground.“Reva, a life for yourself, someone who would share your joys, and your sorrows.” Revathi was inflamed. “Paro, have you lost it totally?” You have lived abroad for too long and forgotten how it is here. Our community, our society…” Revathi went on a tirade as Paro just smiled. Shekhar stepped in as he heard the raised voices. He touched Paro’s arm and reminded her. “Paro darling, remember we have to visit my Uncle and Aunt.” The couple left after promising to be in touch.

Later that night Revathi sat down to a solitary dinner on her tiny kitchen table. She used her dining room only when she had guests. After tossing over her salad and tearing her chapati into a hundred pieces, she gave up. The daal and alu gobhi subzi thatParo and Shekhar had raved about was suddenly inedible. She gave up, pushed her plate off, tidied the kitchen and switched off the light. As she sat with a book on her favorite couch, she realized she had no clue what she was reading. The phone rang and she let the answering machine pick it. It was Varshini calling her. “Hi Amma, looks like you are not at home. Just wanted to remind you of Sangeeta’s Aunt’s housewarming on Thursday.Amma, let me know when to buy your tickets so that we can get a good deal. Amma, why don’t you send rasam powder and sambar powder with Raghav’s Mom next month? And also the Westside Kurtis in medium size.”

Revathi heard the monotonous recital and for the first time was annoyed. There were only demands. No enquiries of her health or otherwise. Her kids loved her but had their own lives. She was just a mom whom her kids called when they needed something. What about her needs? Last year when Revathi was laid up at home with the flu, no one was beside her except Gangabai, her maid. She looked around the room. A cozy living room, leather couches well worn, drapes and some cushions thrown here and there, murals, some paintings, plants, dozens of pictures of her children and grandchild. She had converted Varshini’s bedroom into study and Ramesh’s room was the guest bedroom. Right now, she sat in her bedroom where a picture of smiling Vijay hung on the wall. Her eyes brimmed with tears and for the first time, she allowed herself to cry. She had a decent life but no one to share with. She hated Paro for stirring a hornet’s nest but for once her thoughts were like naughty children —prodding and nudging her. Contemplation was a luxury she had never indulged in. But now the stark reality slapped her. Her kids had their own lives and she was pragmatic enough to understand that staying with them for more than three months would be coming in their way.

The phone rang again. This time she picked it up. It was an unfamiliar voice with a deep American accent asking for Dr. Revathi Vijay. She found her voice and confirmed it was her. “Hi, my name is Neil Banerjee, Shekhar’s cousin. Parvathi had a fall, a nasty one and has had a head injury. Shekhar asked me to tell you.”She was stunned but quickly grabbed a scribbling pad and took the name of the hospital which was thankfully just a few kilometers away from her house. She was at the front desk asking about Paro when a tall, well-built man greeted her in a deep voice. “You must be Dr Revathi Vijay. I am Neil,” he said extending his hand. As she shook his firm hand, she asked in a worried tone about Paro. “She will be okay,” said Neil. They have taken her to do a battery of tests on her and MRI. There is no visible injury but head injury can be tricky. She is lucky Shekhar was with her and rushed her to the hospital.” Revathi just nodded.

Just then a young looking doctor came with a sheaf of reports and addressed Dr. Neil. “Sir, everything looks good”. “Let us keep her under observation tonight”, said Dr Neil “Come Dr Revathi, let us take you to your friend.” As he escorted her through the platinum wing of the plush hospital, Revathi asked him, “Are you a doctor here?””Actually no. I am from California. My brother opened this facility a year ago,” came the reply.

Revathi suddenly recalled the news of an ultra-modern hi-tech hospital that had opened in Chennai. Neil led her to plush lobby that looked more like a five star hotel and finally knocked on a door. “Come in,”sang a voice and Revathi rushed to find Paro happily sitting there while Shekhar fussed over her.“Wow, if more patients here spring to their feet like you Paro, my brother’s hospital will be out of business,”Neil joked and added on a serious note, “I am glad you are fine. Shekhar was in tears and frantic barely an hour ago,” “Yes Neil, Paro is my life,” said Shekhar. She spent an hour with Paro and her friend apologized for intruding too much. “Come on Paro, no need to be sorry. You are like my sister. I am so glad you are fine. You must rest now. I will come tomorrow morning. Take care, bye everyone.”

As she exited the door, she heard a voice. It was Dr. Neil. “Dr. Revathi, it is 1 am. It is too late to drive back. I will drop you home and tomorrow you can pick your car from here. Please come to my office and let’s have a cup of coffee before I drop you. I feel guilty dragging you off your bed at such an ungodly hour.” They reached a room done tastefully in browns and soft whites. She barely knew this man but there was something so inherently decent about him that her refusal would have been impolite.

As a boy placed two cups of steaming mugs in front of them, he asked her conversationally. “Paro says you are an academician and the principal of a very prestigious college in Chennai.” She hoped that was all she had told him. Revathi had no idea why she was having this conversation with a stranger at 3 am in the morning. “Come I will drop you home,” he said. The 10 minute drive home was a quiet one, the silence only broken by directions from Revathi.

When they reached their building, Revathy blabbered without thinking. “Would you like to come for some tea?” The words were out before she could think. Neil agreed and followed her to her apartment. He looked around approvingly at her simple yet elegant interiors. She vanished into the kitchen and minutes later emerged with two cups of masala chai. He had made himself comfortable in one of the couches. Revathi slid into a chair. “Revathi,” he said so softly that she was startled. “You can relax.” “I am fine. Just a bit shaken with Paro’s accident.” she said” “Of course,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that seemed to say— Whom exactly are you kidding, it has nothing to do with Paro.He seemed to cruise past nonchalantly through her heart, completely disregarding her signboard of ‘no thoroughfare.’

Revathi was used to being in complete control of her senses. Then, why were her knees going weak, like a giddy teenager’s?

After a while, Dr Neil was about to leave. “Revathi, I can pick you on the way to the hospital. Say around 11.30? We could have breakfast. I know a very decent idly joint. What say?” Revathi nodded and he left.

Later, Revathi, sat on her dressing table combing her long hair. She slid into her maroon nightie and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. She had disjointed dreams of her caught in a web, a pair of hands rescuing her, Vijay’s smiling face slowly changing to Neil’s face. She woke up groggy. The first time in years she had a luxurious bath and was reaching her closet for a sari when she saw a flowery blue and white blouse which she had never worn. Her daughter had forced her to buy it in Macy’s last year and it sat there. She decided to team it with a pair of blue slacks. With her hair open in that outfit she looked not a day more than 40. When the bell rang at 11, she almost ran out. She was frozen on her tracks when she saw it was her daughter’s cousin and her nosy mother in law.

“Hi Revathi Aunty, you look different,”said Varshini’s cousin. Her mother-in -law looked at her a tad disapprovingly, taking in her outfit, the mules and the blue tote bag. “We came to invite you for the puja but looks like you are all dressed for a picnic,”came the taunt. After 10 minutes they left and Revathi was wondering if she should change into a sari but just then Neil arrived looking handsome in a pair of blue jeans and white shirt. “You look very pretty,” he said.

They drove to a quaint little house that overlooked the sea. It’s one of the city’s best kept secrets, he informed her. Somewhere halfway through the meal, Revathy relaxed. “Do you live alone?”Neil asked her.

“Yes”, she said. “My kids live in US and UK.”

“And your husband?” came the query.

“I have been widowed for 20 years now.”

“That’s a long time. You never remarried?” he asked easily and for the first time she felt it was not an intrusion. “And you? Wife, kids…?”

“I was married for 20 years and divorced for 10 years,”said Neil. “I have two adorable daughters and 3 grandsons. Maya, my wife died 6 years back of lung cancer.”

“I am sorry,” Revathi said as he continued. “For a while I buried myself into work and lived like a zombie. I sniggered when my cousin Shekhar announced he was getting married at the age of 57. I even tried to talk him out of it. My point was it is too late to make changes. But when I met Paro and saw how much they were in love, I realised how wrong I was. Actually, given our cultural orientation, we don’t look for partnerships beyond a certain age. We all need someone to share our lives with – whatever the age.”

She just nodded as he asked, “Don’t you wear pinks? The colour will suit you a lot.”

With that, Neil paid the cheque and dropped her home. This time she didn’t invite him. Revathi was totally lost in her thoughts when she let herself into the house. She sat there in silence thinking about everything Paro and Neil had said.

The doorbell rang just then. A delivery boy stood there with two dozen red roses. She murmured her thanks. Inside was a tiny card that said, ‘To a pretty lady. Someday- In celebration of hope.’ Revathi smiled as she felt all her burdens wash off and went to her closet to pick up the pink pretty dress that had never seen the light of the day. Now both she and her pretty pink dress were off to a path of light. She looked at the card again and again and finally her heart was free.

About the author

Usha Gayathrie has worked in the IT industry for over 10 years. She holds a master’s degree in English Literature and diploma in computers. She is passionate about music and is a trained Hindustani classical singer and conducts music classes. Usha’s poems have been published in poetry.com which is the world’s largest poetry community .She lives in Bangalore with her husband and her 8 year old daughter.