NOT YET FORGOTTEN
KUSHANI KEPT HER eyes closed and continued her mental count to ten. Drawing in a deep breath, she slowly opened them hoping to gaze back at the dark handsome ones of her husband, instead she found herself staring at the dull, off-white ceiling. She noticed for the first time then that it had started graying at one corner. Then all of a sudden her alarm clock on the bedside table went off in a loud string of beeps making her more annoyed at herself for waking up earlier than usual. So much for the lovely surprise, she thought grimly as she straightened up to hit the off button angrily.
She stared at the digital clock and the luminous numbers on the far right of its screen glared back. 27th December! It was her 27th birthday. She turned her head to find her husband sprawled on the other side, his head slightly off balance at the edge of the mattress. On any other ordinary day she would have propped the pillow and gently lifted his head in to position. But today she held back and looked away. Hadn’t I dropped enough hints? She sighed.
Slipping in to her bubbly slippers she dragged her feet towards the bathroom. In a few vigorous twists she set her knotty mess of hair in to a low ponytail as she went and her slippers made livid slaps on the faded brown tiles. There are some rare moments in life when you expect something to repeat itself. In the hope of finding her husband gazing down at her lovingly as he had done exactly a year before, her subconscious mind had tipped off her biological clock. Damn my biological clock, she mused.
Just inches away from the door to the bathroom, she stopped abruptly. What if he had chosen another way to surprise her? Knowing him, she knew this was a close possibility. Her thoughts drifted back to the time when he had had to travel outstation for a project on their first anniversary. Thinking that he must have forgotten all about it as he had left in a hurry Kushani had stumbled in to the bathroom to find the tiled floor strewn with rose petals. The card tucked on to her toothbrush grinned mischievously as she rushed forward. His childish scribbles fondled a soft smile in to her lips.
I’ve seen you at your best and I’ve seen you at your worst (Now don’t try to pull that wild mane in to a ponytail….)
With you, I can give up all my pretenses…
I feel comfy even in my seven year old superman t-shirt… (There’s a hole just where superman’s head should be in case you haven’t noticed)
May be that’s what makes me love you more everyday…
His terrible sense of poetry had made her laugh out loud then. She felt her heart warm as the familiar tug of love pulled at her. Deep within she knew she was clinging on to the last straw now or may be the one before the last to be honest. Kushani turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The room was barren of all the illusions her desperate heart had hoped for. It gaped hollow, and the dull pink of the room engulfed her in a fresh wave of misery. May be he didn’t remember after all.
In the small, stuffed kitchen Kushani made the morning tea. She had spilled half the water by the time she remembered to switch off the heater and once she poured the tea in to mugs she wasn’t sure whether she had added two or three spoonfuls of sugar. In the doorway to their room she was irritated to find him still in the same awkward position. How can he not when he comes home that late.
It had been three lovely years since her marriage to Thilan. They had been friends all their lives and so had been their families. Theirs’ was one of those happy go lucky sort of a story where both families had given their blessings willingly. Now thinking back to those wonderful years Kushani couldn’t imagine how or when things started to stale.
May be it was his new promotion, she thought, the one he had had his eyes on for the whole of last year. He was now an executive at the insurance company he worked for. Ever since he started working in his new position he had unconsciously become one of those types Kushani despised, men who came with their briefcases hanging heavily on one hand while loosening the tie as if it was a part of their work ethics. They would start to prefer stock exchange news to movies, switch from sports page to the business section overnight, miss out items in the daily shopping list, come home later than usual and ultimately forget their wives’ birthday.
Kushani set the mug on the bedside table with a thud loud enough make his eyes pop open. He remained in the same position for a while, trying to refine the picture in front of him. With a start he glanced at the clock. Kushani held on to her breath as realization crossed his face.
“Kushi, I’m late”, he said throwing off the covers. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
She kept her gaze fixed on the graying corner on the ceiling, sipping the as he rushed about the room.
AT HER OFFICE, Kushani kept her façade of an expression firm and went through all the well wishers with mechanical nods and prompt ‘thank you’ s. She sat half drowned behind her desk which flashed a “Creative director” sign, a stack of files, a computer, a framed photo of her family and a phone that kept blaring in to life every now and then. Her parents had called first thing in the morning. So had her best friend who lived in U.K. Few minutes back Thilan’s parents and his sister Menaka had called. Menaka had asked in a mysterious tone.
“So Akki, did Ayya give you a romantic present, eh?”
Kushani had then managed a lame excuse and disconnected the line. However her chances of survival sank lower when she caught sight of the tall, voluptuous figure that appeared in her doorway. Shehani looked stunningly professional as usual in her low cut silk blouse that fashioned ruffles and a black skirt that clung to all the contours of her slender frame.
“Happy Birthday sweetie,” She sashayed towards Kushani her arms extended like sizzling hot tongs. The air suddenly smelt of wild roses. Passing on her feathery kisses to the midair she held her at arm’s length and wiggled her over- plucked eyebrows at Kushani. “So my girl you are twenty-seven huh. Three more years to go and I will warmly welcome you to our club”. Her laugh tinkled as she sat on the edge of the desk and crossed her long legs.
“I bet Thilan gave you the best present of all”. She lowered her voice and arched an eyebrow, giving her the suggestive look-over.
Kushani matched the surreptitious tone exactly. “You bet”. She hurriedly averted her gaze back to the computer screen and started typing furiously before the ghost of a smile left her face.
“You know girl, you must consider yourself lucky”. Shehani’s gaze never left Kushani’s face as she went on. “After few years of marriage most husbands’ interests go elsewhere and you know the rest”. Her voice had a tight edge to it as she stressed the word ‘most’ and it made Kushani’s fingers go numb on the keyboard. She nodded her head absentmindedly, swallowed hard and suddenly noticed that she had typed the word ‘confidential’ thrice in a row.
KUSHANI GRIPPED THE steering wheel tight and somehow managed to suppress the urge to turn on her mobile phone. She wondered whether Thilan had had his dinner yet and instantly blamed herself for being so naïve. Of course he must have had a grand dinner with his so called clients. With a wave of nostalgia she remembered the times when she had hurried home to prepare dinner for him. On his birthdays they would not go out for dinner at some fancy restaurant but settle at home for a humble dinner of string hoppers and a curry, Thilan’s best pick of the menu. Gone were the happy days.
Now he wouldn’t even notice I’m not home yet, she thought bitterly. She had stayed later than usual at the office and switched off the phone on a sudden impulse. Why would he bother? The car screeched to a halt under the porch. Stepping out on to the doorstep she took a quick glance up at their bedroom window to find it in darkness. May be I didn’t stay long enough.
Kushani cautiously walked across the living room and was just about to head upstairs when she caught sight of an unusual glow that came from the direction of the kitchen. She half expected a sudden uproar of “Surprise” to fill the atmosphere but realized that there weren’t too many hiding places in the room after all. She peeped curiously around the kitchen door and her face went from shock to utter disbelief in a matter of seconds.
The kitchen looked unusually serene in a balmy orange hue. There on the small wooden table an array of dishes remained untouched. The dimly lit lamp cast a warm glow to the features of her husband who sat on the chair; his arms crossed and mouth agape as he had grown tired of waiting and drifted off to a light slumber. His mobile phone protruded from his clutches. Kushani stumbled forward with apparent curiosity. She gazed at the unlikely collection of dishes on the table. In the middle, her mother’s delicate glass bowl boasted a heap of fried rice with oddly shaped carrot slices and green peas. Next to it, there was a china dish filled to its dripping point with a chicken curry that looked a little too darker in shade to her liking. A potato curry, a whopping vegetable salad and half burnt beans completed the picture. She stood numb as Thilan opened his eyes may be to a vague sense of an intruder.
Their eyes met and Thilan held the gaze for a prolonged moment before he finally got to his feet. He ran a tentative hand through his slightly ruffled hair and closed the distance between them in a stride. She studied him, struggling to take in the strange assortment in her surroundings.
“How? When?” She stammered, finally finding her voice.
He shifted his gaze from her to the table and a sheepish grin tickled his features.
“You thought I forgot, didn’t you Kushi?” his clear brown eyes challenged her. “I wanted to give you the best surprise ever.”
“But how did you manage?” her voice was barely audible yet tainted with apparent awe. “You couldn’t even fry an egg.”
He reached for her and held her small hands in his. “Menaka taught me over the evenings for the last week or so” he said referring to his sister. He tightened the grasp and gazed deep into her eyes, never wanting to break the spell.
“Things haven’t changed, Kushi.”
Chathurani Ranathunge is a fourth year student at Wayamba University of Sri Lanka studying for a bachelor's degree in Agriculture. Her short stories have appeared in local English newspapers from 2006 and her story 'Shadows of Truth' won 2nd place at a competition conducted by English Writers' Cooperative of Sri Lanka in 2010.
KUSHANI KEPT HER eyes closed and continued her mental count to ten. Drawing in a deep breath, she slowly opened them hoping to gaze back at the dark handsome ones of her husband, instead she found herself staring at the dull, off-white ceiling. She noticed for the first time then that it had started graying at one corner. Then all of a sudden her alarm clock on the bedside table went off in a loud string of beeps making her more annoyed at herself for waking up earlier than usual. So much for the lovely surprise, she thought grimly as she straightened up to hit the off button angrily.
She stared at the digital clock and the luminous numbers on the far right of its screen glared back. 27th December! It was her 27th birthday. She turned her head to find her husband sprawled on the other side, his head slightly off balance at the edge of the mattress. On any other ordinary day she would have propped the pillow and gently lifted his head in to position. But today she held back and looked away. Hadn’t I dropped enough hints? She sighed.
Slipping in to her bubbly slippers she dragged her feet towards the bathroom. In a few vigorous twists she set her knotty mess of hair in to a low ponytail as she went and her slippers made livid slaps on the faded brown tiles. There are some rare moments in life when you expect something to repeat itself. In the hope of finding her husband gazing down at her lovingly as he had done exactly a year before, her subconscious mind had tipped off her biological clock. Damn my biological clock, she mused.
Just inches away from the door to the bathroom, she stopped abruptly. What if he had chosen another way to surprise her? Knowing him, she knew this was a close possibility. Her thoughts drifted back to the time when he had had to travel outstation for a project on their first anniversary. Thinking that he must have forgotten all about it as he had left in a hurry Kushani had stumbled in to the bathroom to find the tiled floor strewn with rose petals. The card tucked on to her toothbrush grinned mischievously as she rushed forward. His childish scribbles fondled a soft smile in to her lips.
I’ve seen you at your best and I’ve seen you at your worst (Now don’t try to pull that wild mane in to a ponytail….)
With you, I can give up all my pretenses…
I feel comfy even in my seven year old superman t-shirt… (There’s a hole just where superman’s head should be in case you haven’t noticed)
May be that’s what makes me love you more everyday…
His terrible sense of poetry had made her laugh out loud then. She felt her heart warm as the familiar tug of love pulled at her. Deep within she knew she was clinging on to the last straw now or may be the one before the last to be honest. Kushani turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The room was barren of all the illusions her desperate heart had hoped for. It gaped hollow, and the dull pink of the room engulfed her in a fresh wave of misery. May be he didn’t remember after all.
In the small, stuffed kitchen Kushani made the morning tea. She had spilled half the water by the time she remembered to switch off the heater and once she poured the tea in to mugs she wasn’t sure whether she had added two or three spoonfuls of sugar. In the doorway to their room she was irritated to find him still in the same awkward position. How can he not when he comes home that late.
It had been three lovely years since her marriage to Thilan. They had been friends all their lives and so had been their families. Theirs’ was one of those happy go lucky sort of a story where both families had given their blessings willingly. Now thinking back to those wonderful years Kushani couldn’t imagine how or when things started to stale.
May be it was his new promotion, she thought, the one he had had his eyes on for the whole of last year. He was now an executive at the insurance company he worked for. Ever since he started working in his new position he had unconsciously become one of those types Kushani despised, men who came with their briefcases hanging heavily on one hand while loosening the tie as if it was a part of their work ethics. They would start to prefer stock exchange news to movies, switch from sports page to the business section overnight, miss out items in the daily shopping list, come home later than usual and ultimately forget their wives’ birthday.
Kushani set the mug on the bedside table with a thud loud enough make his eyes pop open. He remained in the same position for a while, trying to refine the picture in front of him. With a start he glanced at the clock. Kushani held on to her breath as realization crossed his face.
“Kushi, I’m late”, he said throwing off the covers. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
She kept her gaze fixed on the graying corner on the ceiling, sipping the as he rushed about the room.
AT HER OFFICE, Kushani kept her façade of an expression firm and went through all the well wishers with mechanical nods and prompt ‘thank you’ s. She sat half drowned behind her desk which flashed a “Creative director” sign, a stack of files, a computer, a framed photo of her family and a phone that kept blaring in to life every now and then. Her parents had called first thing in the morning. So had her best friend who lived in U.K. Few minutes back Thilan’s parents and his sister Menaka had called. Menaka had asked in a mysterious tone.
“So Akki, did Ayya give you a romantic present, eh?”
Kushani had then managed a lame excuse and disconnected the line. However her chances of survival sank lower when she caught sight of the tall, voluptuous figure that appeared in her doorway. Shehani looked stunningly professional as usual in her low cut silk blouse that fashioned ruffles and a black skirt that clung to all the contours of her slender frame.
“Happy Birthday sweetie,” She sashayed towards Kushani her arms extended like sizzling hot tongs. The air suddenly smelt of wild roses. Passing on her feathery kisses to the midair she held her at arm’s length and wiggled her over- plucked eyebrows at Kushani. “So my girl you are twenty-seven huh. Three more years to go and I will warmly welcome you to our club”. Her laugh tinkled as she sat on the edge of the desk and crossed her long legs.
“I bet Thilan gave you the best present of all”. She lowered her voice and arched an eyebrow, giving her the suggestive look-over.
Kushani matched the surreptitious tone exactly. “You bet”. She hurriedly averted her gaze back to the computer screen and started typing furiously before the ghost of a smile left her face.
“You know girl, you must consider yourself lucky”. Shehani’s gaze never left Kushani’s face as she went on. “After few years of marriage most husbands’ interests go elsewhere and you know the rest”. Her voice had a tight edge to it as she stressed the word ‘most’ and it made Kushani’s fingers go numb on the keyboard. She nodded her head absentmindedly, swallowed hard and suddenly noticed that she had typed the word ‘confidential’ thrice in a row.
KUSHANI GRIPPED THE steering wheel tight and somehow managed to suppress the urge to turn on her mobile phone. She wondered whether Thilan had had his dinner yet and instantly blamed herself for being so naïve. Of course he must have had a grand dinner with his so called clients. With a wave of nostalgia she remembered the times when she had hurried home to prepare dinner for him. On his birthdays they would not go out for dinner at some fancy restaurant but settle at home for a humble dinner of string hoppers and a curry, Thilan’s best pick of the menu. Gone were the happy days.
Now he wouldn’t even notice I’m not home yet, she thought bitterly. She had stayed later than usual at the office and switched off the phone on a sudden impulse. Why would he bother? The car screeched to a halt under the porch. Stepping out on to the doorstep she took a quick glance up at their bedroom window to find it in darkness. May be I didn’t stay long enough.
Kushani cautiously walked across the living room and was just about to head upstairs when she caught sight of an unusual glow that came from the direction of the kitchen. She half expected a sudden uproar of “Surprise” to fill the atmosphere but realized that there weren’t too many hiding places in the room after all. She peeped curiously around the kitchen door and her face went from shock to utter disbelief in a matter of seconds.
The kitchen looked unusually serene in a balmy orange hue. There on the small wooden table an array of dishes remained untouched. The dimly lit lamp cast a warm glow to the features of her husband who sat on the chair; his arms crossed and mouth agape as he had grown tired of waiting and drifted off to a light slumber. His mobile phone protruded from his clutches. Kushani stumbled forward with apparent curiosity. She gazed at the unlikely collection of dishes on the table. In the middle, her mother’s delicate glass bowl boasted a heap of fried rice with oddly shaped carrot slices and green peas. Next to it, there was a china dish filled to its dripping point with a chicken curry that looked a little too darker in shade to her liking. A potato curry, a whopping vegetable salad and half burnt beans completed the picture. She stood numb as Thilan opened his eyes may be to a vague sense of an intruder.
Their eyes met and Thilan held the gaze for a prolonged moment before he finally got to his feet. He ran a tentative hand through his slightly ruffled hair and closed the distance between them in a stride. She studied him, struggling to take in the strange assortment in her surroundings.
“How? When?” She stammered, finally finding her voice.
He shifted his gaze from her to the table and a sheepish grin tickled his features.
“You thought I forgot, didn’t you Kushi?” his clear brown eyes challenged her. “I wanted to give you the best surprise ever.”
“But how did you manage?” her voice was barely audible yet tainted with apparent awe. “You couldn’t even fry an egg.”
He reached for her and held her small hands in his. “Menaka taught me over the evenings for the last week or so” he said referring to his sister. He tightened the grasp and gazed deep into her eyes, never wanting to break the spell.
“Things haven’t changed, Kushi.”
Chathurani Ranathunge is a fourth year student at Wayamba University of Sri Lanka studying for a bachelor's degree in Agriculture. Her short stories have appeared in local English newspapers from 2006 and her story 'Shadows of Truth' won 2nd place at a competition conducted by English Writers' Cooperative of Sri Lanka in 2010.
