Hiranakshi (part 2)

Hiran had been trained from childhood on the etiquette and customs that are expected of a wife. She knew them well and respected them. She servered her mother- in- law as long as she stayed with them. The mother- in- law, however, left her son and daughter- in- law in a matter of days after the wedding and sent forth on her long pilgrimage. Hiran then spent her time making delicious food for her husband and keeping his house in working order. The husband worked long and hard all day and returned home in the evening. The evenings he spent painting what he saw during the day. Hiran tended to his every need, making sure he was comfortable, healthy and happy.

The days dragged on and Hiran grew bored. She would wait all afternoon and evening for her husband to return home and once he returned she served him his meal. Those few minutes she spent watching him eat were the best minutes of her day. He would go away to paint for the rest of the evening and Hiran would be by herself again. She did not want to distract him from what he loved but she was growing restless.

Her waiting grew more eager. She would tie her hair in different patterns every evening. She would prepare every elaborate dish she had ever been taught. She would wear the finest of the clothes her parents sent with her. All for those few minutes in the evening.

Sometimes she grew jealous of those painting he made with so much care. Did they mean more to him than she did? Ofcourse not! How silly of her! She was his wife and he loved her. Didn't he?

When she heard his approaching footsteps in the evening, she would run to the door, which was always open in his anticipation. She would look at is tired face and feel a sudden surge of pity. She would help him wash his hands and feet. She would serve him his dinner and fan him while he ate. She would watch his face, his every gulp, reading his expression to see if he liked what he ate. Was it too salty? Was it not sweet enough? She could read it all on his face.

The nights grew longer and the waiting harder. She would sometimes secretly wish that he should be unwell, just so he would spend more time at home and she could see to his comforts with even more vigour. She would will it to rain so he would come home earlier than usual. She would wish some kind of law would be passed in big city, asking all husband to remain home for a few days. Something, anything to get a few more hours with him.

(to be continued)