Mira was grieving. Her eyes were swollen, lips dry, hair disheveled and a line was permanently etched around her mouth. She had PCOD and the weight gain was unsightly. Mira tried new diets every few months.
She was grieving the death of a relationship, that she held primary in her life. Her husband had left them over a month now. Mira wished she was thinner.
Mira counted the days on her table calendar.
She marveled at the sight of her spic and span house. The photographs were picture-perfect. The children, the husband, the dog and the bric brac collected during their holidays together.
Mira dusted each of them, spruced them up when the house was empty.
The children came back from school to the aroma of fresh cake and bread baked lovingly by Mira.
When Nik told her, that the relationship was over. He was not in love with her any longer. Mira knew it was a phase. She baked more cookies and more bread. Hoping Nik would soften towards her.
Nik left. The room was empty. The cupboards without the male fragrance. She locked the cupboard tightly. Placed naphthalene balls in the corners. Knowing Nik would get over his paramour and return to the kids and her.
Her best friend knew Mira was never prepared to let Nik go.
The death of her identity was a blow she was not prepared for. Mira embraced all the shifts and changes because her home was her life.
Today Mira sat on the steps of her home. She waited for her children’s school bus.
Her phone inside was ringing. But Mira did not want to not be disturbed till the kids came charging in to hug her. She lived life with their love.
The phone call was of a guilty Nik trying to reach out to her to say “Mira lose the weight for me to find you attractive again. With the pregnancies, you have lost control. I need to feel desire with you, for me to not sleep with other women.”