“Don’t call me Pri! My name is Priya. It’s not such a long name. And who gave you permission to shorten it?”
“Umm no one. I just think it suits you better,” He said as he tapped my head.
“Don’t touch my hair!” I said as I pushed his hand away.
“Calm down. Anger will give you wrinkles even before you turn 30.” He winked and smiled. Then he swooped up his backpack and casually walked out of class. Thick mop of hair, black sweatshirt, blue Levi’s jeans- The girls swooned over his confidence but I just thought he was arrogant.
He was always pulling my leg. Sometimes he sang “Pri Pri Pri Pri Priya” in front of our friends. His best friend, Manav smiled while he watched us. I liked Manav because he was quiet, reserved and seemed the dependable-type, but we barely spoke because both of us were so shy. I remembered Manav’s smile.
****
That was nearly thirty years ago. I don’t even know why I was thinking of that incident today. This fever is making me a bit delirious…people places, things-all a blur in my mind.
“Grilled sandwich” I moaned, as an image of the grilled sandwich in our college canteen floated in my mind.
“What?” My husband said. He came closer to my bed to hear me clearly. “You want to eat something?”
“No no,” I had zero appetite.
He touched my forehead. “The fever has still not come down.” My body was on fire. He wet a piece of cloth in a bowl, squeezed it out and mopped my forehead. Then he fluffed my pillows, positioned me so I could be more comfortable and pecked me on the cheek.
“I will ask the doctor to come and see you once, ok. The fever should have come down by now. Just ring the bell if you need anything.”
I tossed and turned in bed. I fell into fitful sleep. I woke to the sound of a click on the door.
My husband walked in with a big bouquet of white lillies. I just managed to smile weakly and tried to sit up.He came towards me and said “Happy birthday!” and he gave me a tight hug and made me lay down again.
“I went to get your favorite chicken-soup from Soup Spoon,”he said, lightly kissing my lips.
“Has the doctor come yet?,” he asked.
“I fell asleep, so I am not sure,” I replied.
“Oh let me go check once,”he said, as he went out. I looked at the gorgeous bouquet on the bedside table. A note was peeking out of the bouquet. He always writes me a note on my birthday.
I supported myself on my elbows, sat up and reached out for the note. I unfolded it. On it were the words:
“To my darling wife, Pri.
Without you, I am nothing. Get well soon.”
That annoying boy with a thick mop of hair won me over by the time we finished college.I never thought that that arrogant boy could be so full of love. He has taken care of me for thirty years. And for thirty years, he has called me Pri every single day.
***The End***
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