It seemed harder to uncork the second bottle of whiskey, as opposed to the first one. The wall clock in the bedroom chimed eleven times on a sombre note. Jamie wondered why his friend mounted such a stupid clock in his new apartment. It was a housewarming party, yet the clock kept reminding the guests when to leave. A few of them would have been overtly conscious about the time or their wives might have ticked as their mental clocks to go home. Jamie felt safe; he had partied quite a few times with the host before and his wife was aware when he would be home. Besides, she was pregnant and followed a strict routine for herself. He concentrated on opening the bottle of whiskey. The first one had been gulped down in no time as too many stakeholders were present.
When the place was considerably empty, Jamie noticed a woman sitting in front of the television, attentive but apparently bored. She was listening to the news half-heartedly. He recalled being introduced to her some time earlier in the evening, she was the wife of his friend’s colleague. What was her name, again? It was a pretty and unusual one, but his memory failed on the exact noun. While the hosts were shelling out goodbyes to the leaving guests, he went up to the woman with a glass of whiskey in his hand. She was in her early thirties, maybe. He rebuked himself for always judging a woman’s age before even speaking to her.
‘Hi, I’m Jamie.’
‘I’m Rya.’
Ah, there it was, her name! It suited her somehow, though he didn’t know what it meant. At the moment he couldn’t imagine a better one for her.
‘Sorry for the television, its my work. I’m a journalist.’
‘That’s interesting.’
‘You think so? Its not mundane at least.’
‘I think what you mean is routine, not mundane.’
She had a strange glint in her eyes, as if she was waiting for so long to tease him, to play with his words. Jamie felt a little fazed for the first time in years. Or was it the whiskey? He had been immersed in love with his wife for so long that he hadn’t noticed other women. Even if he did, they failed to impress him greatly. He had met a few interesting women after marriage, but to his opinion, none of them surpassed or even equalled his wife’s intellect and charm.He didn’t know what they lacked, they were amazing women. His wife had been his best friend for so long now that he doesn’t have memories beyond that. He had fallen in love only once in his life, with her. But perhaps he wanted to enjoy interesting conversations with others too. This time he wasn’t wary of confronting another smart woman, but soon the others joined and discussions drifted to all kinds of topics.
(2)
It was almost three weeks later that he met her again at the same venue, attending another party. Jamie was sober this time as he beamed to her. She didn’t have the scope to watch television, as it was a small gathering. Instead, she seemed preoccupied with her smartphone, occasionally participating in the conversations. There was a brief break for Jamie as his friend and Rya’s husband were discussing matters pertaining to their office. Jamie excused himself for a smoke in the balcony. His friend’s wife went inside to check on their children. He stood at the eighth floor balcony overlooking a vast expanse of barren land. It was the outskirt of this newly developed city which he could never like. He has been living in the suburb far enough to develop a liking for it or not. His wife likes it though. She is pretty happy with the environment and the people here, mostly her friends. To Jamie, it still is an alien city which never seemed to welcome him. It was only convenient since both of them worked nearby.
He was well immersed in his own thoughts when he realized someone else had sneaked into the balcony. It was Rya and this time she set the conversation.
“Introspection in balcony?”
It made Jamie smile.
“Do you always start with titles like that, like a journalist?”
“Well, not really. I can be normal too.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that.”
“Its alright. I was just pulling your leg out of no reason.”
She too was smiling. It had transformed her from a serious, stoic journalist to a semi-stranger with an amazingly radiant smile. As if their smiles had struck a chord somewhere and conversation poured in as easily as rain.
Jamie had told his wife about the smart lady he had met and their budding friendship. His wife wanted to see her too. She joked about him possibly falling for her. In the next few days, something queer happened. Jamie was in office and bored, when he suddenly recalled her smile and felt happy. He wanted to talk to Rya, but did not have her number. Her husband had seemed quite a grumpy man to, so he decided not to search for her number. He would leave the matter to destiny this time. It if were, he would meet her again. And so it happened.
(3)
He met her for the third time in a shopping mall. She was hooked to the window of a designer clothing store. Jamie was climbing up the escalator with his wife when he saw her on the floor above. As they went closer, she seemed to be absent-mindedly fixed there waiting for someone. Jamie tapped her shoulder from behind to startle her. She was waiting for a friend. Her face lit up for a fleeting moment when she saw Jamie. He introduced her to his wife. They exchanged the pleasantries in a pleasant manner. Both the women were very courteous to each other and tried to be friendly. Jamie was in both minds – did he want his wife to meet Rya? Or did he want to meet her alone? The rendezvous lasted only for a few minutes. Rya’s friend came back and they had to leave. Jamie remained faraway for quite a long time since then. He was worried to the level of being distressed. He wanted to see Rya, talk to her, be with her for some time. But that wasn’t possible. He still did not have her number. Neither did he want to barge in her office or home to see her. He kept telling himself it was an infatuation which he needed to overcome.
On the other hand, his wife was going through a pregnancy and she needed him too. He wanted to keep her company, he still loved his wife. And yet there was a sudden craving just to see Rya once in a while. He wanted another friend beyond the realm of his wife, his best friend. There was something different about Rya which he liked. The first two times they had met, more silence had passed between them than words. Jamie felt he was in need of that silence ahead in his life. He wanted to achieve that rare silence with Rya without any expectations for future meetings.
(4)
Days passed, months went by. Jamie hadn’t met Rya or heard from her further. He was invited to another party at his friend’s place. It was a farewell party for Rya and her husband. They were leaving the town for good. Rya had bagged a placement in a national news agency and they wanted to surge their careers far ahead. Jamie had a dilemma whether he should attend the party, see her again. He was dimmed on receiving the piece of news. Then he felt he might never have a chance to see her again. His last chance. Hers too. He arrived at the party on time. There were quite a few people from his friend’s office whom he wasn’t acquainted with. Rya’s husband did not remember him. She did, of course. Jamie wondered why had he been invited in what seemed entirely like an office farewell.
The evening was draining as fast as sand in an hour glass. Jamie was bored. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to Rya in person yet. Everyone was very eager to chat with them for the last time, perhaps. Jamie kept himself busy with his muse, the golden liquor. After an hour or two, he went to the balcony for a smoke. It was a welcome refute from the crowded, stuffy room with unknown faces. The curtains were drawn, the balcony was aloof from the rest of the apartment. Jamie stood leaning on the cold railing, balancing his glass of whiskey on the parapet. It was cold, windy, adverse as it could be. Yet, Jamie felt relieved to be there, away from the others. He felt lonely, and deserted – by his friend, his wife, Rya. What made him deserve a cold evening on an eighth floor balcony in a godforsaken part of the city he disliked? Was it love? He decided at the spur of the moment that he would move out of this city after their child is born. He would have to convince his wife. She liked her job here. But she could also find a better one someplace else.
Jamie was lost in his thoughts despite the cold. He had lost count of time. His glass wasn’t empty as he drank idly. He felt being shoved away to an exile, alone, with a glass of whiskey. The door behind him was more like an entry to the world again. As he felt so, the door opened for a brief moment and someone entered the balcony. He turned around and saw Rya. She had somehow slipped from the clingy guests to be with him, or so he reckoned. She came up to him and stood beside, silently. She had probably come to this balcony for the first time, as she lapped up the view below and ahead with interest. Jamie gazed at her. She had become leaner with time and her cheekbones stood out. She glanced at him. Neither had expected a conversation. It was a dead end. She put her hand above his on the railing. It was strangely cold, though she was in the warm confines of the room until then. On his other hand was the glass of whiskey. He was just raising it to his lips for a sip of warmth when a raindrop fell in the glass. He looked up to Rya to see if she had noticed. It was raining there too. Her face was glowing like deep grey brazen clouds, her eyes threatening a lightning or two, and her eyes could not hold the rain anymore.
Neither of them had noticed the evening sky blazing with cumulonimbus clouds. It started with a patter in Jamie’s glass. They stood there for a few minutes in the rain. Jamie drank the whiskey which had become a solution of slightly acidic rain and alcohol. They looked at each other and knew that it would never rain for them, again.
END