Husband and wife

Husband and Wife

At ten o'clock in the night, Meenka returned home. The daily hustle and bustle of meals had settled in this house since morning. The small room, more rectangular than square, could barely accommodate both hands' length. Meenka's husband Gopal lay on the bed left from their wedding, sharing half the room. Alongside the bed, there was a cleverly placed folding chair, allowing passage around the bed. In one corner, a small table held a lit cigarette and a book. It was a popular book—the books that are read by those who write books—and Gopal spent time reading it to relax. In another corner of the room, a trunk and a suitcase stood, alongside a blanket and a tin. The trunk was received during Meenka's wedding. The colors were still bright, but it looked as though a corner had faded slightly. Several pictures hung on the wall, including a large photo of Meenka and Gopal. The sarees, the draped mosquito net, the additional pillows, and the hairpin decorations in the photo with Meenka do not reveal any special effect in her eyes. It seems that there has been some hesitation. However, Gopal seems to be sicker than the chair’s Gopal in the photo. There is no gap in the photo, after the wedding, Gopal actually became ill. It is difficult to say whether it is for marriage or for work. Marriage and work have happened almost together.

When she returned home, Meenka took off her nightdress at the door. She sat with her feet swinging at the edge of the bed and softly said, "Daddy, I survived."

Gopal turned towards her with a faint smile, taking his eyes off the book. Then he picked up the book again.

"Oh, Mom, I'm so tired."

"If you hadn't bought that table fan..."

"If you hadn't bought that saree—"

"I can't stay a minute longer."

The wind of the fan makes it feel like this. The room is deserted, and there is no movement in the corner. Three months ago, she came here seven days before. She couldn't eat the wind on the first day. Shame, shame, shame! Those who are alone, those who are alone, those who are one person, they do so in three months, they spend their time alone, they want to see, they want to dream, they want to suffer, they want to suffer, they want to suffer, they want to taste the taste of freedom, and they want to live with pride. But as if they were caught in a few moments at a time. So much has changed in both of their minds. After seeing them, one body, one mind, one soul, as if in the house, they cannot be one. They have been alone for three months, but they have imagined, wished, and suffered. They have tasted freedom, and they have felt the joy of punishment, as if the night is awake, and the time is stuck in time. No matter how much he changes, the time it takes to fit the parts of the machine is a long time—the creator is also needed, but it is needed.

When Meenka removed the two curtains of the pub's window and stood on the one with the roof of the house next door, the warmth of the wind came. The seven windows of the house after that, the light of the room comes out. These days, when everyone knows how to clean all the windows! She knew this news a few days after her marriage. If it had been dark in the four windows, it would have been dark in the sixteenth, two, and the lights would have been extinguished. But can it be kept in the corner of that window? She thought of so many possibilities, but she did not get the power of the imagination, she was not ready to let someone stay awake at night to read and study in the house, what kind of belief was born in the room of the window, how much they loved, how they lived together for two nights. They don't care. They don't care. They are doing so well. Their love and love, it is difficult to love and live together.

They would be awake until three o'clock almost every day, returning from her father's house. But that day she did not think about the window of the house. She said that in shame and grief. The big argument had gone. In the middle of the night, they could not come, and they had been sleeping for a long time.

The sleep was coming. It was as if the sleep had been more than it had been left. The awakened eyes were a little shimmering and the back of the neck was soft. Gopal read the book with attention. He was annoyed when he could not read. He did not say anything, but he was annoyed. When Meenka returned to the bed, she sat down, till she got up to read the book, Gopal's head warmed up. It seemed that the quiet and wise man had changed, and he had eaten alcohol. Meenka looked at herself, would she leave? Will she not come home tomorrow? Day after day? The sleep broke, and one person hurt, why—the body is not good! Yet if he needs a word. In the middle of the night, Gopal broke his sleep, the day when his own sleep did not come for any unknown reason, or suddenly broke his sleep, and the heart became strange and painful. But it is difficult to say whether the time to fix the machine's parts is long.