They were so much in love—the tall, statuesque girl and her partner who towered over her. They had stolen glances at each other in a movie theater, surrounded by friends. Even amidst all the chatter and the buttered popcorn, their eyes met, making it seem as though the world had stopped spinning for a brief, magical moment.
Raj smiled at his best friend, Sheena, when she ribbed him about the tall beauty who seemed to have caught his eye.
“Do you want me to go and vet her?” she asked playfully.
He blushed and shook his head. “No, I… I will meet her somehow. I’ve got this.”
Supriya glanced back at where Raj sat with his friends. Who was the pretty, petite girl by his side? His girlfriend? His wife? Hopefully, his sister?
Raj’s gaze fell on her. An unspoken message flashed between their eyes. On an impulse, he stood up as the interval lights came on.
“Hi, my name is Raj,” he called across the three seats.
“Hi, Raj, I’m Supriya!” Her smile illuminated the dimness of the theater, or so it seemed to him.
After the movie, he made his way to her side. “Hi, again. How about a cup of coffee?”
She looked at her friends, who smiled back suggestively, making her decision easier. “All right, let’s go!”
Over three cups of coffee, they sat and talked. It was as if they had been friends for years. There were no constraints; the conversation flowed effortlessly, and both were mutually charmed.
Supriya sat by the window of the staffroom, watching the children run around, expending their boundless energy. She heard a lilting young voice reciting the verse she used to say as a child every time she saw a mynah: “One for sorrow, two for joy.” She had fervently believed in this rhyme and would always hunt for a mynah’s companion when she saw a single one.
When she got home, Raj was making his special aromatic coffee. “Want some, my love?” he asked, a smile breaking over his face.
“Yes, please,” she smiled back, grazing his cheek with a quick kiss. As she showered, she reflected on her life. Marriage to Raj was everything she had imagined. He took care of her like a princess. Some of their friends were even envious of the bond they shared.
The mynah sat alone in their garden, while its companion perched on a neighbouring branch, pecking at its plumage. Supriya sat outside with Raj, enjoying the evening breeze that lifted a tendril of her hair. “Two for joy…” she murmured, gazing at the birds with faraway eyes. Raj took her hand and squeezed it tenderly. His eyes were also clouded with nostalgia.
Three years after their marriage, Supriya discovered she was pregnant. Raj was ecstatic. She had never seen him so excited. “You will not lift a finger or exert yourself,” he whispered, caressing her silky hair. They had been trying for a child for two years, and finally, God had answered their prayers.
Raj appointed a full-time maid to handle the household chores. Supriya continued to go to school until it was time for her confinement. Raj and Supriya would go for walks in the evening to get some exercise. They strolled in companionable silence, breathing in the balmy air that brought a flush to their cheeks.
The mynahs came and went. If one perched on the branch, Supriya would wait until a second one appeared, sometimes even until dusk. But one evening, only one mynah sat on the branch of the mango tree outside, seemingly bereft. Supriya waited for the second one, but it did not come, causing her discomfort.
“Come inside, my dear. It’s getting chilly,” Raj said, holding her by the arm and leading her into the warmth. He rubbed her icy hands with his warm ones. When the cramps began, she whimpered softly. Raj reassured her while calling the doctor. She was rushed to the hospital and put on a drip immediately.
Three years later, they sat in the garden, sipping their cups of coffee. The trauma of that night remained nestled in both their hearts. The doctor had spoken to them gently. “Mr. and Mrs. Sharma, this pregnancy has taken a toll on both of you. I’m sorry that we could not save the baby, even though we tried our best. You know…”
They were heartbroken, but even more so when the doctor added, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sharma, but you will never be able to bear a child.”
Today, they sat with hands entwined. Suddenly, two mynahs fluttered by and landed on the mango tree branch. Supriya glanced up at them, a smile in her eyes that held deep sadness within.
“Two for joy, Raj. Just like you and me, together for eternity, just the two of us!”
By Deepti Menon
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