Fort @ Forties

“You could have stopped her from going,” I said.

It was extremely uncomfortable to keep quiet while the couple was intensely arguing over a petty topic. Refraining from taking any sides made it even harder. Felt like trapped. I traveled to Mumbai for the weekend to visit my college friend’s house. Sunil and his wife Anupa were my college mates. Both Sunil and Anupa got married shortly after securing their jobs, and they currently have a family of four. Their children were now enrolled in college, while we were in our middle age.

Middle age is an intriguing phase. We have achieved the material goals we had dreamed of. However, the satisfaction we expected to accompany this achievement is far behind us. We possess the financial means to pursue our childhood or college aspirations, yet we often lack the necessary time or energy to accomplish them. We suddenly realize we have very little time left to do anything. Spending time with gregarious children, elderly parents, or pursuing our own professional or social goals is crucial. But what gives solace at this time is the company of friends who share similar feelings. Everyone else, with the exception of my school or college friends, seems to misunderstand me.

I spent a wonderful evening with Sunil and Anupa and went to bed late after a long time. When I woke up, I found Sunil and Anupa arguing over the kids. It’s pretty normal for any couple. Suddenly, the situation took an aggressive turn. Anupa departed from the home, declaring her intention to never return. Sunil was also enraged, and neither of them seemed to notice my presence.

The anger appeared to stem from a different issue than the one they were arguing about. Sunil’s emotional outburst was seeking a way out. Sunil made a wrong statement. Anupa reacted wrongly. This made it simple to burst and flow all over the place. Creating newer reasons, occasions, and eruptions.

I was sitting there knowing that I would not get my morning tea unless I helped settle this matter. Of course a selfish motive, but hopefully a worthy action. I tried to speak with Sunil to understand what was going on. He provided numerous explanations for his anger and the unreasonableness of Anupa. Nothing surprised me, as I have been married for two and a half decades too.

Sunil spent a quiet hour venting for the first few minutes before engaging in introspection. He got up and said, Let’s go get Anupa back. I said, You carry on; I will wait. He insisted that I accompany him, and we proceeded to the car. I said to him, “You know where she is.” He responded with a nod. I was slightly taken aback and wondered, is this part of their routine? In the meantime, I became lost in my own thoughts. I started reflecting on my argument with my wife just before I left for Mumbai. I had a terrible fight the night I left. She complained about how I care about the entire world. I understand the ununderstandable but never bother to understand what she wants. Her desires, interests, and likings are of my least interest. However, I departed for Mumbai without bothering to send her any messages. She was sobbing in the bedroom as I departed for the airport. I should have attempted to reconcile with her before departing.

Suddenly, I snapped out of my thoughts when Sunil stopped his car in front of a flower shop. He bought a dozen yellow roses. I was surprised to learn that even Anupa, like my wife, enjoys yellow roses.

Then, as we proceeded, I inquired, “Where are you going?” He inquired, “Do you recall where you first met your wife?” Of course, I replied, “The Luwak coffee shop at that corner.” Sunil then stopped the car near the Luwak coffee shop. I was surprised to see my wife sitting there with Anupa. Sunil handed over the roses to me to make it up with my wife.

An orchestration done by friends to heal my wound.

After a certain age, friends become our pillars of support. They stand tall to protect us every moment, no matter what’s going on in their life.