The road moved like a snake’s smooth body through the lush hills of the western ghats, white snowy mist looked like it was put as a cap by the trees and the late afternoon sun blinked through the leaves when the car passed by. But inside the car, silence pressed down like gravity.
Rohit’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than needed. Beside him, his wife, Meera stared out the window, her arms were folded and her jaws clenched just so that this quietness felt louder to her husband.
Both of them didn’t speak.
Earlier that morning, a fight had happened just before they left the homestay. It was about something that was so small, Rohit couldn’t even remember now. She had made a comment about his need to control every part of the itinerary, just because they couldn’t find her ribbon.
He snapped back, accusing her of always pushing back just to prove something where he had done wrong.
The silence that followed after these fights weren’t new. It had happened before, not once or twice, it was a common occurence. But at least this time, in between a trip they took to relax and enjoy, it felt heavier and more final.
Rohit’s mind turned over on the words he had said, “Why do you always have to resist everything I plan or prepare?” He had thrown that like a boulder on to her, it was unnecessary, he regret it now.
He wasn’t even angry at her. Not really, When he thinks back, it might be due to how little control he has felt over his life lately. His salary increment was nil, his promotion was delayed again and his father’s health was declining. And everyday he was made to remember that “he was not enough, what he does isn’t even close to being enough”
He remembered studying in 5th standard, trying to put the perfect knot with his shoe laces. His father stood at the doorway and frowned upon him. “You will never even pass the 10th standard if you can’t even get the basics right”
Rohit never cried, he did what he can do best, he just perfected the knot.
Control was how he survived his whole life, but now, it is pushing his lifelong love, Meera, away.
Meera, meanwhile, was counting the trees as they passed. One, two, three, Rohit pushed on the accelerator, skipped the palm, four..
Her thoughts swirled.
She was tired of being called “resistant”. She wasn’t pushing back to push back, she wanted her freedom, she was just trying to have a breathe.
She had grown up in a house where silence was a form of punishment. Her mother would go days without speaking after a fight and the same time, her father just retreats into books and news channels. Love, in her home, was a by product of obedience, if you don’t abide by the rules some have set, you get the silent treatment.
Meera had promised herself, “My love will be full of rooms, the most spacious. There will be no silence, and no punishments”
But here she was again, that was just the thoughts of a little child and now in her adulthood, she is tied down to the same sentiment and she was hurt.
Still, she didn’t speak. She couldn’t trust her voice to hold steady. She looked at her husband’s face – the stronger jaw clench and the furrowed eye brow. The faint way how he holds his anger and sometimes his cries. He never cried.
What are you protecting so fiercely? She wondered..
She knew, just like she hid her fear of abandonment by pretending to not care, he hid his fear of inadequacy by trying to control every outcome.
They were both fighting ghosts.
As the car rounded a bend, the view opened up – a stretch of hills on the left with a great shadowy view of each of them, waterfalls on the same route they are travelling in a distance and the sky sprinkled with gold.
Meera’s breath caught and as reflex turned towards him.
“You are missing the view”, she said with excitement
He glanced over. Her happiness softened his face and the gravity again brought his eyebrows down.
“I know”, he said. “I have been too much focused on the road”
The double meaning hung in the air between them.
He adjusted his tone, his sound felt lighter than a pigeon’s feather. “I’m sorry for earlier”
She nodded, “Me too”
Silence returned but its trajectory shifted. It was not heavy or sharp, there were lots of space in it.
Rohit spoke again, eyes on the road. “I think sometimes I get scared, that if I don’t plan everything, I might lose control of… everything”
Meera exhaled, “And I get scared that if I don’t push back, I might disappear in others problems”
They didn’t say much after that. 2 truths not in competition but coexistence.
Rohit reached for her hand near the gears. She let him hold it.
They drove on through the winding roads and the gentle rains, carrying less weight than before.
Silence crept in most of the times, but both happily broke it with jokes and puns after.
Events that led to me writing this short story : https://ajayan.substack.com/p/i-thought-the-fight-was-with-others