Ladies Coupe Read Online Free Page B

offered the bar around.
    Akhila took a piece of the Kit Kat and tore off the silver foil. Margaret shook her head ‘Not for me. I have to watch my weight.’
    Janaki shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why do you need to watch your weight? You are slim enough.’
    ‘I used to be fat. Not plump, mind you. Really fat,’ Margaret said. ‘When I went on a diet, I had to give up a whole lot of things and now I think I have lost the taste for chocolate. I used to love it. Not anymore …’
    ‘I don’t eat chocolate either,’ Prabha Devi said, passing the chocolate back to Janaki. ‘My son is seventeen years old but he is still like a three-year-old when it comes to chocolate. Each time my husband goes abroad on business, he brings chocolate back for my son. My daughter stopped eating it when she discovered that it was chocolate that was causing her skin to erupt. Sometimes I think she spends all her time in front of the mirror checking her face for a pimple or a blemish. Now she demands that my husband bring her back make-up from a store called Body Shop.’
    ‘What does he do?’ Janaki asked.
    ‘We have a jewellery business,’ Prabha Devi said. ‘I shouldn’t be saying “we”. He has a jewellery business. I am a housewife.’
    ‘Nothing wrong with that. I’m a housewife too,’ Janaki said. ‘What about you?’ she said, turning to Margaret.
    ‘My husband is the principal of a school. I teach chemistry in the same school,’ she said.
    ‘Do you find yourself arguing about everything?’ Prabha Devi giggled and then suddenly, as if conscious what she had said, covered her mouth with her hand and tried to explain, ‘It’s not just the house; you share a workplace too.’
    ‘We had our problems at first but now we know enough
to deflect tension when it occurs. To separate the school life from our home life. It took us a long time but we manage pretty well now. Guess what? My daughter studies in the same school too!’ Margaret said with a chuckle.
    ‘What does your husband do?’ the elderly lady asked, cocking her head at Akhila.
    ‘I am not married,’ Akhila said.
    ‘Oh.’ Janaki lapsed into silence. Akhila could see Janaki thought she was offended. She took a deep breath.
    ‘I am forty-five years old and I have always lived with my family,’ she said.
    Prabha Devi turned towards her. But it was Margaret who spoke first. ‘Do you have a job?’
    She nodded. ‘I work for the income-tax department.’
    ‘If you don’t mind me asking you, why is it that you didn’t marry?’ Prabha Devi asked, leaning towards Akhila. ‘Did you choose to remain unmarried?’
    What am I going to tell her? Akhila wondered.
    Suddenly it didn’t matter. Akhila knew she could tell these women whatever she chose to. Her secrets, desires, and fears. In turn, she could ask them whatever she wanted. They would never see each other again.
    ‘I didn’t choose to remain single. It happened that way,’ she said. When she saw the curiosity in their eyes, she elaborated, ‘My father died and I had to look after the family. By the time they were all settled in their lives, I was much too old to marry.’
    ‘You are not all that old,’ Janaki said. ‘You can still find yourself a good man. The matrimonial columns are full of advertisements by men in their mid- and late-forties seeking a suitable mature woman to spend their lives with.’
    ‘If you ask me, those men are looking for a housekeeper – someone to cook, clean and fetch for them. If she is happy the way she is, why should she marry?’ Margaret asked.
    ‘Are you happy?’ Prabha Devi asked.
    ‘Is anyone happy?’ Akhila retorted.
    ‘It depends,’ Prabha Devi said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It depends on what you define happiness to be.’
    Akhila leaned toward her and said, ‘As far as I am concerned, marriage is unimportant. Companionship, yes, I would like that. The problem is, I wish to live by myself but everyone tells me that no woman can