"Hey, did you hear? Today is Rose Day...!" I called out while looking inside. There was no response from within. I looked more carefully into the room, but there was no sign of any movement. I set aside the newspaper in my hand and slipped on my slippers. Getting up from the armchair, I stepped inside the house.
"Rajani... hey Rajani!" I began calling out. But as I was calling her, I suddenly stopped in the living room. With her eyes closed, Rajani was quietly sitting on the sofa, listening to a song playing on the FM radio. The rice she had been picking through on a plate was left just as it was. She seemed completely lost in the music. I watched her intently. As I sat down next to her, I continued observing her face, deeply absorbed in the song.
It’s been nearly 30 years since we got married. But Rajani still looked just the same as she did back then. Her eyes had a slight bluish tint, a few wrinkles had appeared on her face, but the glow was still the same. A few strands of hair at the front had turned white, but they still shone just as brightly. She now wore glasses, but the mystery in her eyes remained unchanged. I looked at her the way one looks at a wife returning home after a long time away. She, however, was still lost in the music, completely immersed. I don’t think she even realized I was sitting beside her. In that meditative stillness of hers, the only thing that didn’t quite fit was the plate of rice still in her hands. Just as I gently took the plate from her, she suddenly snapped out of her trance.
“Oh! It’s you?” she said, looking at me.
She had been so deeply immersed in the music, but my action startled her.
“What happened? You looked so calm and beautiful just like that…” I said, gazing into her eyes.
“You and your nonsense sometimes…” she said as she began to get up.
I gently held her hand and quietly made her sit back down. I kept looking at her. My gesture had clearly left her a bit confused. No one probably understands her love for music as much as I do. But I was also the one who stood in the way of that passion. From the day we got married till today, she has never gone against my wishes. In fact, I had told her quite clearly even before marriage that I didn’t want a girl who liked singing or dancing. And yet, over all these years, without ever resisting or complaining, she stayed by my side. Not once had she ever questioned me about it. But why was I so opposed to Rajani’s singing? Perhaps it was because of the belief ingrained in me back then — “A woman who sings or dances is nothing but a showpiece.” That idea had been etched into my mind. Was that the reason? Or was it just my male ego? Or did I simply want a wife who stayed confined within the four walls of our home? Can I honestly answer that today? I don’t know.
Today, our children are pursuing careers they’re passionate about. Neither I nor my wife ever stood in their way. But why was I so stubborn — and still am — when it comes to Rajani? She was still looking at me.
"Hey... what’s wrong?" Her question brought me back to the present.
I was still looking at her. Somewhere deep inside, I had made a decision. She looked at me, still puzzled, then got up and began walking toward the kitchen. I watched her retreating figure. Then, I quietly picked up the phone and the directory lying nearby. Without saying a word, I called a musical instrument store. I placed an order for a high-quality tanpura for Rajani. And along with it... yes, along with it, I also bought a big bouquet of roses. I asked them to write on it: "Happy Rose Day." On this Rose Day, I was going to correct a mistake I had made years ago. I hung up the phone and quietly peeked into the kitchen. Rajani was busy with her cooking, completely unaware. I returned to my armchair and sat down comfortably… waiting for the tanpura to arrive. I turned toward the radio and increased the volume. A song was playing:
"Tere bina zindagi se koi... shikwa to nahi... shikwa nahi..."
