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A New Life By- Pratibha Kelapure At one time Pratibha's signature line read, "a mother, a poet and an engineer-- in that order." At the age of fifteen, she completed Rashtrabhasha Prachaar Samiti's Pandit degree with first place in the state of Maharashtra and discovered her passion for literature. Later on though she followed well traveled road to a science degree, marriage and move to bay area - California, where she has lived for past 22 years. She is a software engineer by profession, and a piece of code with imaginative, meaningful variable names moves her to tears. She retains a child's naivete, curiosity and sense of wonder about the world around her. Kindness is her philosophy in life.

"What happens between me and John is nobody's business." Debbie said with eyes pointed at my meek face. Her dirty blonde permed hair was draping her face, and her green eyes were looking straight at me. Those eyes reminded me of my cat's eyes, when I accidentally stepped on her tail a few days earlier. I looked at Marie Angela as if to ask her to come to my defense. Debbie's outburst was the result of my not-so- thoughtful remarks about John and Debbie's disagreement of last few days. Marie just shrugged her shoulders, picked up her notepad, and started walking to the meeting room. I followed quietly.

"Why was Debbie so sensitive about my remarks? I was really concerned about her." I said.

"I know that." Marie said. "But things are a little different here. One does not comment about other people's private lives." Marie provided the analysis of the situation.

I was new to this job, and to America. Within a few months on this job, I had made a few friends, mostly my co-workers. Sharing meals and a few laughs was enough for me to consider everyone my friend, and I did not see anything wrong in advising Debbie about her argument with John. That was my mistake.

"Debbie will get over it." Marie said. "She is going though a rough time in her life. With her ongoing divorce and custody battle, things are difficult."

"Doesn't John mind that Debbie has a nine year old daughter?" I asked.

Marie shrugged her shoulders again. This was a signal that she had had enough of this conversation. I retreated to my desk.

It was 4:30PM, I would have to leave very soon. The evening dinner was just a thought in my mind yet. I needed couple of hours to make it materialize on the dinner table. However, before that, I had to maneuver the manual transmission of the car and navigate myself to Prakash's work. A new couple, just starting out, we shared the car. It was a chore I dreaded every day.

At 5:15 I finally started. I pulled the car in front of Prakash's office building and waited. The flowerbed around the huge signpost was soothing to my tired eyes. The radio was softly sending out melodies in the air. Oblivious to all my impending chores, I relaxed.

"Shubh Mangalam Sawadhan," the priest proclaimed. I felt grains of yellow and red rice sprinkled on my head. My hair, heavy with number of flower garlands welcomed those grains. I turned around and looked at my mother. She had tears in her joyful eyes.

"Don't look back," she whispered, "You are starting a new life, make all of us happy and proud."

I nodded and dropped the marriage garland around Prakash's neck. It landed on his ear and was stuck there.

"What is this? You stopped car too close to the curb, you are going to ruin my tires." Prakash welcomed me.

Startled, I hurried out of the car and started to walk towards passenger seat. We had this rule. When Prakash was with me, he always drove. We both preferred it that way.

I never knew what kind of mood he would be on any given day. Actually, it wasn't that unpredictable, I knew he would be angry about something, it is just I didn't knew what would be the reason on a given day.

"So what should I make for dinner?" I asked as we entered the freeway. "I got to help the new girl to learn the oscilloscope today." Was what I wanted to say.

"Anything, I don't care." Prakash mumbled. I could see his temples throbbing.

"Careful, you are too close to the big truck ahead." I squeaked. I bit my tongue, but it was too late. I had already crossed the line.

"Shut up you good for nothing Bombaywali."

Instinctively, I sunk deeper in my seat and tried to come up with a tasty menu, which I can prepare, in the shortest amount of time possible. I knew only way for Prakash to snap out of this mood was to serve some of his mother's popular dishes.

The evening dragged on. I burned the rice and had to start all over again. The chapati flour was all over the counter. The coriander leaves were clogging the drain. Fortunately, Prakash enjoyed the chutney and the sabji. I thanked my lucky stars for the night.

Rolling on my side, I could see the moon shining through the window. "Come home early, don't make us worry," said Nanaji.

"Yes, all right." Prakash mumbled. I smoothed the pleats on my new silk sari, put on my new high heel sandals, and hurried out.

The moon was bright, the air was light and my steps were quick. "Aaa jaa, aai bahar..", A loud speaker was soaking the air with popular Hindi film songs. It was the first time; I had gone out with Prakash alone since the wedding. The guests had slowly left. I loved riding on the back seat of the scooter. Holding my arms tightly around Prakash's stomach made me feel really close to him. Was that the evening, I had thanked my stars the first time?

The Moonlight was shining across the wall. I could see the silver frame with Meena work, with our wedding picture. "You are starting a new life." My mother's words rung in my ear like hot wax.

I thought of Debbie, John, and Marie Angela. Marie Angela was forty years old. She was filling out the forms for insurance claim, and I happened to overhear her conversation with the claim adjuster. Noting the surprise on my face, Marie said, "I didn't start working till my kids were in middle school." Well I wasn't surprised to find out that she was forty and starting a new job. I was stunned at the physical shape she was in. She had a trim and well-maintained figure. Her dark hair was neatly curled and her skin had the appearance of porcelain. Her dark eyes were sharply watching the world from behind the mascara-clad eyelashes. She tapped her long and bright read nails, when she used calculator.

Frankly speaking, I was in awe of Marie Angela and Debbie. So free and independent. Marie was so sure of all her actions and words. And Debbie, in spite of all her personal troubles, she was so confident on the job. I saw myself in stark contrast to these two women. Always shy and soft-spoken. I had to repeat everything at least twice in the company meetings. Every time I spoke, I could see my manager, Mike concentrating intently on my words, with his deep blue and narrow eyes. However, his best efforts would fail and he had to ask me to repeat my answers.

Well, at least he tried to understand me. Prakash would get so impatient with my mumbling in the social gatherings. I rolled back and facing the wall fell asleep.

"Good Morning!", Debbie greeted me at the elevator door. No signs of yesterday's little incident. She was as breezy as ever.

"How are you today? Did you crazy newlyweds stay up all night?" She teased. The dishes in the sink flashed before my eyes. Oh, no, I didn't get a chance to clean the sink. Now tonight, I have to start from cleaning. I cursed myself.

"Oh, last night we went to see a movie and it got late." I lied instinctively.

"You know today is the day my divorce is final." Debbie said.

"I am sorry. But I guess that is what you wanted." I said.

"I don't own my home no more." Debbie lamented, "I had owned that house since I was twenty."

No matter how much Debbie wanted the divorce, the loss of her house and the family home was hard to take.

"You know, since I separated from Ron, no one had put me down. No one had made me feel little." Debbie said.

"What about John?" I asked.

"I don't owe anything to John, and he doesn't owe anything to me. We are just friends." Debbie responded.

"Hmm!" was the only word I could get out of my mouth.

So, she wasn't depending on John even for emotional support? That was a revelation to me.

"Your husband and his family are your family now. You are beginning a new life." Aunt Shama had told me the afternoon before my wedding day. She was drawing a mehandi pattern to my hand and had me as a captive audience. The wedding was impending like a doom over my head. I wasn't against the marriage. It was just too surreal to me. I had just finished the B.Sc. Finals and was looking forward to attending graduate school. I also was looking forward to have my own income. I did not have any definite plans for these goals, but that was how it was. We just went ahead, The smart ones went to medical school, others went to college, B.sc, M.Sc, Ph.d and finally an academic position in a university or a job as a Bank Officer. That was what the girls did. A brave few went to engineering schools. I assumed I would do the same. Now this marriage! On one hand, I was very happy but somewhere something was not right.

A new life, but where was my old life? Did I have a life before the marriage? Sure, I lived before the marriage, so obviously I had led a life, but was it my own life?

"Maya, did you write the last check at the store?" Prakash asked. "You did not enter it in the checkbook." Oh, the joys of joint checking account! Do Marie and her husband have a joint account? What about Debbie? Does she still have joint account with her ex-husband? Useless thoughts fluttered through my head. I shook my head and filled in the missing check entry in the checkbook.

"Maya, we are celebrating Debbie's birthday on Friday." Marie Angela said.

"Can we go together to but the gift?" I asked. Marie's help in these matters was invaluable.

"I am going to get her mats for her kitchen sink and some drains for the dishes." John said, "She just stacks all the wet dishes on the counter. I had to eat out of wet plates the last whole week." It was no secret that John was living in Debbie's apartment. I wondered how her nine-year-old daughter liked it.

"I already got her a screwdriver set, but I need to get a few more things." Marie declared.

Screw drivers, sink mats? Whatever happened to nice perfumes, sweaters, and jewelry?

On Friday, I was pleasantly surprised to see Debbie appreciating all the gifts. It wasn't just an act to be thankful, but she was genuinely pleased to get all those gifts. I suppose starting out from scratch calls for a different sets of rules.

I realized that Prakash and I shop for these items on the weekends and then do the repairs around the house. However, no one had though of these gifts in our social circle. I had enough dinner plates to serve up the entire neighborhood. Cooking and eating were the main forms of entertainment for us. Another revelation.

"Maya, you must come for the dinner party for the bridal shower for Ashok and Geeta. I am giving you a month's notice, so don't come up with an excuse." Ordered Shobha. Shobha had assumed the position of the matron of out little friend circle. Actually, Ashok and Geeta were married in India six months ago. Geeta was finally coming to US. The green card had taken a little longer than Ashok would have liked. Another wife to host dinner parties, the men in the group must have thought.

Another wife to start a new life in the land of the opportunity, the American land.

"You know, I have decided to move to San Diego, to be close to my parents and family." Debbie announced on Monday. "Moving? Just like that?" I asked.

"Not just like that. I have been thinking about it for a while. It would help me if my parents could supervise Lisa, while I work." Debbie said. "Also my being there would help them out financially."

I knew it made sense for her. It was just like Debbie, to make a sensible decision and then execute it.

"Well, the divorce is final. I got this promotion here and Mike has referred me to a great company in San Diego. I need to turn a new leaf. Start a new life." Debbie said.

It all made perfect sense. A new life of her own. A full fledged a authentic life of her own.

Driving home that evening, I did not ask Prakash, about his preference for dinner menu. Going back to my old life, an old life that was led by my mother, her mother, and her mother, I sat looking outside of the window, looking for any sign of new life.

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