Story – A house without a balcony
Writer- Jamshed Qamar Siddiqui
The walls of that city were unfamiliar to me… the tone in which people spoke seemed strange…
Hey brother, please stand aside…
Yes, what do you want… has the new one arrived…
This… what kind of language is this… what kind of people are these… this city did not seem like the city we had dreamed about. Everyone is running and rushing… people are travelling by train for four hours, sleeping only because they have to wake up again in the morning…
It had been two weeks since I had come to Mumbai… My family thought that I was progressing by leaving my small town and coming to this city… But what kind of progress is this where I have to leave my home, my city, those familiar streets, that language, those favourite restaurants, my friends… my big balcony where I could stand and drink evening tea and see far away… It is a coincidence that till now I had always got jobs in my city… and spent a good part of my life there… But now after so many years I had got a job in Mumbai and in just two weeks I was fed up. I called my mother… (Scroll down to read the rest of the story. Or if you want to listen to this story from Jamshed Qamar Siddiqui then click on the SPOTIFY or APPLE PODCAST given just below)
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– Mummy,
– Yes son, how are you… I saw the photos of the house… it is small but nice… how big a house does a man need… and your landlady also seemed fine…
– Yes that’s all fine mommy… but… but I won’t stay here…
– What… what happened son… did something go wrong there?
– No, there’s no problem mom… but I… I am not liking it here… it’s a strange city… I have no friends… no relatives… I don’t even like the food… and the houses are like such small boxes… there is no balcony here… they just put a net on one window… I am not liking it at all… I… will tell the office… that either keep the location the same again… or I… am leaving the job… I am missing you all a lot.
Mother remained silent for a while. Then she said… You see, son… if you don’t like it, then it doesn’t matter, come… do as you like. Saying this, mother hung up the phone. I looked around my small room once… a small room… a bed on the corner… a ceiling a little higher than my head… a cupboard and my two suitcases… which I had not yet put in the room. I took a deep breath and looked at the small window of the room which had a net on it. I put my face close to the net and looked down at the street… the street below was bustling… vehicles crawling in the traffic… noise… shops… … I looked at the buildings in front… are there no balconies in this city… none of the houses were visible… box-like houses and people peeping from the small windows of their small rooms…
I won’t be able to stay brother… I muttered to myself… and sat on the bed. Then I thought something and opened a suitcase and took out a bedsheet and spread it on the bed. Then I saw the empty cupboard in front… which the old tenants had left behind… when I opened that brown cupboard, one of its doors used to hang from one side. I thought what is the need to arrange clothes in the cupboard… when I have already decided that I have to leave from here in two days… then why take the trouble of taking out clothes from the cupboard and putting them in the bag again… I closed the cupboard…
After a while, I opened my suitcase to change my clothes… and a file slipped on the floor… the one I had brought with me… it contained a lot of my certificates and other documents… when I looked, I noticed that a paper had also slipped from inside the file and fallen on the floor.
I bent down and picked up that paper… and in that dimly lit room, surprise shone on my face. How did it come here…. This is a letter… maybe it had come with the other papers by mistake. When I took that letter in my hand, bitter memories of the past started making noise. The empty, silent house started feeling even more empty. There was a tremor in my palms. I opened the sealed envelope and took out the paper I had decided. My own handwriting of four years ago was staring at me. I read that letter again which I had read many times…
Hello Anshika,
When I am writing this letter to you, believe me, there are tears in my eyes. I never thought that after sending you Bashir Badr’s poetry on pink pages, the time would come when I would write a letter to you and tell you that let’s separate. But what to do, maybe this decision is right for both of us now. Think, it’s been only one and a half years since we got married and where have we reached. Today you hate my face and, honestly, I also feel suffocated around you. You, you are no longer that Anshika. That happy-go-lucky Anshika, with whom I used to come down the stairs of Metro Mall laughing and giggling, and people would stare. Maybe I am also no longer that person, who used to gently crack your tired fingers after working on the laptop for hours after completing your thesis. I used to hate ginger in tea, but I used to make ginger tea because of you. All that is lost between us, Anshika. You are trying in vain. Now there is no use. I will not be able to try anymore… This is the end of our relationship…
This morning, when you were asking the maid to wipe the kitchen slab with salt because ants had come again, I was listening to you. You said that you will stay in this house for six months at least, after that I don’t know. I don’t want to live in this uncertainty. I respect your effort to rekindle love for each other, but when you could not maintain it after living together for three and a half years, what will change by sulking at each other for six more months. We will not be able to live together Anshika. I am applying for mutual divorce in the court. The papers are in the drawer. Sign them.
yours….
My name was written below.
My hands got sweaty holding that piece of paper, moisture started shining on my forehead. There was so much pain, so much bitterness in the hastily written letters on the three-year-old paper. Forgotten tears started peeping from the corners of my eyes.
(sound of phone ringing)
Just then my phone rang… I looked… it was Anshika’s call. I received the call while keeping the letter back in the file… Hello...when I said this, there was a smiling voice in his voice.
– Hey, what’s happening, Hero? Mummy was telling me that you are worried about something.
– Yes, it’s just that nothing is working out
– Hey, it will be fine… give me some time… I got bored in just two days.
– Hmmm… I just said this in reply… She said further… Haha, I am also very tired, there was a lot of work in the office today… so tell me did you eat Pav Bhaji… Friend, I like Mumbai very much… When I lived in Mumbai for two years before marriage… that time was the best time of my life… anyway… friend, you know… I am also missing you… a lot… haha but what to do… I am helpless… ok one minute, there is a call from the office, I will call you
Anshika’s phone was disconnected. But that old letter was still in my hand. Today I was thankful that when I had written this letter… I had not sent this letter to Anshika after thinking a lot. And I had decided that I will try one more time… I tried…. and the attempt was successful. Today Anshika and I are not only husband and wife… but also very good friends. I tried with all my heart… and gave some time to the relationship. Today Anshika and I are happy, so I feel that more than half of the problems of the world are solved just by giving time… Yes, this is what I learned from our relationship.
I took a deep breath and walked a few steps to the same window of the room… I looked at the road below from the window… I could see a Pav Bhaji shop below. I looked at the city from a distance and thought… let’s give some time to our relationship with this city. Relationships are like trees… rising from the ground… passing through a weak trunk, to become a strong tree… it takes time… relationships also require time… whether it is a relationship with someone close… or with a city with houses without balconies… I arranged the clothes in the cupboard… and then I walked towards the Pav Bhaji shop below.
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