I woke up with a start, as light filled the room and hurt my eyes, the television was on but I could not make what it was showing or saying, I wasn’t sure where I was, but I started gaining my senses back, I was in our large living room, I had slept off watching Zee TV, the channel that has caught my fancy lately.
‘What are you doing here, cant you watch this thing in your room?’ Asad’s voice brought me out of my half sleep state, I looked up, and glanced at the ornate wall clock, it was 1 am in the morning.
‘Change it to Al Jazeera.’ Asad commanded. I fumbled around on our plush sofa looking for the remote control, I found it under the seat, I was cautious while lifting it to retrieve it as I could feel Asad’s eyes on my every move, I changed it, a young woman in fancy red suit was talking.
I didn’t want to watch Al Jazeera, in fact I didn’t want to watch anything, I wanted to sleep, but I shared the same room with Asad, I was not in a mood to stay in the the same room with him, he would irritate the life out of me, so I would wait for him to be done before going to bed, if only I was already asleep, I wouldn’t have to witness his disgusting drama.
Asad headed for the bed room, he had asked me to change the channel, and he wasn’t even going to watch, I hissed under my breath. I watched him take measured steps towards the room, he was a very meticulous human being, he did everything perfectly and expected so from others, not a pin should be out of place.
I waited until I was sure he was out of sight, and changed the channel back to Zee tv, they were repeating the shows, I just switched off the TV.
I walked over to our magazine rack, which was beside the bookshelf which had so many books from different class. Asad is very passionate about business and that reflected in his choice of books, I am a versatile reader, that resulted in books from many fields including medicine on the shelf, Asad had them all arranged in Dewey decimal classification. The shelf had another use,for display for our guests.
I pulled out an Indian magazine from the rack, it had Katrina Kaif on it’s cover looking anorexic, I could swear they shrunk her to size zero. I flipped through it. After a while I could not grab anything, I was feeling very sleepy, I glanced at the clock, it was 1:30 am, so I anticipated Asad might have finished his sickness in the room, I switched off the light and headed to the room.
Asad was still arranging things, I said nothing to him neither did he to me, I climbed carefully on our extremely large ornamental bed with a metre high head board and shorter post at each border, with intricate arabian design studded with stones. I tried not to ruffle Asad’s side. He was still putting things in their place, Asad is the neatest person I have met in my entire life, he kept his shoes aligned when he pulled them from his feet, everything was aligned. I sank to the comfort and richness of the pure satin bedsheets imported from Spain.
I watched as Asad carried and placed things, it was annoying, I could not believe I was once madly in love with this man, my whole life till date I had always been the center of attention. I could not believe he didn’t notice my scandalously cut silk nightie, or the very expensive arabian midnight oud perfume I wore which filled the air. It was as if I had gone extinct, he didnt talk to me nor look at me anymore. I felt vibration near my feet, I sat up to check, it was Asad’s phone, it was locked with a password, if I wanted I could hack it, but Asad didn’t know that. The problem with smart phones was being too smart for their own good, the message displayed across the screen, it read “missing you already”with a stupid heart by the side, it was sent by a “Leila”.
Just then I saw Asad looking at me holding his phone from the mirror, he is the most vain man I have ever seen, always looking himself over in the mirror, even before coming to bed with a wife that knew him intimately, and cared less whether he came to bed or not.
‘Who is Leila?’ I asked.
‘Give me the phone Ladidi.’ Asad said facing me.
‘Who is Leila?’ I repeated, waving the phone, I got up ruffling the bed in the process, at that moment I didn’t care. If Asad was ignoring me and my needs for some bitch, I needed to know who the filth she was, I threw his blackberry Porsche with all my strength at the mirror and it broke to a thousand pieces.
Asad turned and looked at the broken mirror then me, without warning he landed me resounding slap that gave rise to long humming sound in my ears, I held my cheecks, he slapped me not because I destroyed things but because I dirtied the room, I knew because I have been married to him for ten long years.
He tried walking over the glass to find another haven to sleep, but I wasn’t done, I jumped at him and held his shirt.
‘How dare you raise your filthy hands on.’ I said pulling him, I saw a look of horror on his face, it was not for me calling him filthy but for pulling at his pyjamas that he spent time smoothening on his body infront of the mirror, he shoved me so hard, I landed against one of the pillars of the bed, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, I screamed as hot fluid came between my legs and black.
I woke up to a familiar yet distant surrounding, biege walls, water dispenser I could swear I’ve seen before. My gaze fell on the medium size LCD TV, it was on africa magic.
