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Authors: Vikrant Khanna
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towel on the bed, to put my socks in my shoes and not throw them just about anywhere, to hang my jeans and shirts on the hooks and so on, but I felt something tugging at my heart strings.
Nevertheless, I’d made up my mind to divorce her the moment I set my foot back in India, and never to get married again. The pain and disappointment this marriage has inflicted upon me is certainly not worth the effort I had to make. Why did I not listen to Joe Singh? He’d warned me so many times. And now, I’ll have to bear the repercussions of it for the rest of my life. I haven’t even thought of how much alimony I’ll have to pay her, by the way.
I’d been dawdling my time here not a tad interested in any work. I don’t speak to anyone, and my conversations with my fellow crew members are restricted to the incumbent hellos in the mess room. Whenever I find time, I plop down on my bed and try to catch some sleep. When I am awake I day dream.
But I’ll be okay once I ge t past the initial hangover , I’d been telling myself. After all, I’d seen the worst in my relationship.
Quite a few times I thought Captain could sense there is something wrong with me, by the way he looks at me through the corner of his eyes while we are seated in the mess room. He’s quite observant I believe. Either that or he is good at reading faces. He’d asked me a couple of times ‘Are you okay?’ I’d shrug and wave my hand dismissively. ‘Of course,’ I’d tell him.
Then today in the afternoon over lunch he asked me over to his cabin for a drink. Although not in the mood of mingling with anybody, I couldn’t say no to the drink.
An hour later, I knocked on his door gently and decided that I would just have one drink, and leave early without talking much.
He opened the door and had a pleasant smile on his face as he welcomed me in his cabin. I could see his brown eyes twinkle behind his glasses. He led me toward the couch and we settled on it sitting across each other.
‘So Ronit, how’s your stay turning out to be?’ he asked casually, settling back in his seat.
‘So far, so good sir,’ I replied. OK, where’s the drink?
He nodded and stared intensely at me through his stony eyes from above the rim of his glasses. I cringed in my seat and avoided his gaze by looking around.
‘Oh, what’s that?’ I tried distracting him, pointing toward an old worn out diary on the table.
He picked the diary and ran his fingers poignantly through it. ‘That’s my personal diary,’ he replied wistfully.
‘It looks pretty old,’ I said quickly. It was in tatters, worn out from the edges, and had to be a dozen years old at least. ‘Why can’t you get a new one, we have plenty of them in the store.’
‘Oh no,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t want a new one.’
I nodded.
‘Oh sorry, I almost forgot,’ he said, keeping his diary aside. ‘What will you have, beer or whiskey?’
‘Whiskey, sir.’ Yes, I needed that.
‘Right away.’
He rose to his feet and started for his living room lifting the two glasses from the table. I planned to leave after the first drink feigning a headache or something.
‘Soda or water?’ I heard his loud voice from inside his living room.
‘Soda sir,’ I called out, straightening up on my seat.
He returned a minute later with two glasses filled with golden liquid. We clank our glasses and drank in silence when he surprised me with his abrupt question.
‘So Ronit, what is bothering you?’ he asked, lowering his
Nevertheless, I’d made up my mind to divorce her the moment I set my foot back in India, and never to get married again. The pain and disappointment this marriage has inflicted upon me is certainly not worth the effort I had to make. Why did I not listen to Joe Singh? He’d warned me so many times. And now, I’ll have to bear the repercussions of it for the rest of my life. I haven’t even thought of how much alimony I’ll have to pay her, by the way.
I’d been dawdling my time here not a tad interested in any work. I don’t speak to anyone, and my conversations with my fellow crew members are restricted to the incumbent hellos in the mess room. Whenever I find time, I plop down on my bed and try to catch some sleep. When I am awake I day dream.
But I’ll be okay once I ge t past the initial hangover , I’d been telling myself. After all, I’d seen the worst in my relationship.
Quite a few times I thought Captain could sense there is something wrong with me, by the way he looks at me through the corner of his eyes while we are seated in the mess room. He’s quite observant I believe. Either that or he is good at reading faces. He’d asked me a couple of times ‘Are you okay?’ I’d shrug and wave my hand dismissively. ‘Of course,’ I’d tell him.
Then today in the afternoon over lunch he asked me over to his cabin for a drink. Although not in the mood of mingling with anybody, I couldn’t say no to the drink.
An hour later, I knocked on his door gently and decided that I would just have one drink, and leave early without talking much.
He opened the door and had a pleasant smile on his face as he welcomed me in his cabin. I could see his brown eyes twinkle behind his glasses. He led me toward the couch and we settled on it sitting across each other.
‘So Ronit, how’s your stay turning out to be?’ he asked casually, settling back in his seat.
‘So far, so good sir,’ I replied. OK, where’s the drink?
He nodded and stared intensely at me through his stony eyes from above the rim of his glasses. I cringed in my seat and avoided his gaze by looking around.
‘Oh, what’s that?’ I tried distracting him, pointing toward an old worn out diary on the table.
He picked the diary and ran his fingers poignantly through it. ‘That’s my personal diary,’ he replied wistfully.
‘It looks pretty old,’ I said quickly. It was in tatters, worn out from the edges, and had to be a dozen years old at least. ‘Why can’t you get a new one, we have plenty of them in the store.’
‘Oh no,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t want a new one.’
I nodded.
‘Oh sorry, I almost forgot,’ he said, keeping his diary aside. ‘What will you have, beer or whiskey?’
‘Whiskey, sir.’ Yes, I needed that.
‘Right away.’
He rose to his feet and started for his living room lifting the two glasses from the table. I planned to leave after the first drink feigning a headache or something.
‘Soda or water?’ I heard his loud voice from inside his living room.
‘Soda sir,’ I called out, straightening up on my seat.
He returned a minute later with two glasses filled with golden liquid. We clank our glasses and drank in silence when he surprised me with his abrupt question.
‘So Ronit, what is bothering you?’ he asked, lowering his
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