Book Blurb: One utterly ordinary day, thirty-three-year-old Tanaya realizes that she is stuck in a perfunctory marriage, nursing a resentment at having to live life like a rolling stone and in an impulsive moment, decides to leave her indifferent husband and uninspiring apartment to go back to where it all began: the sleepy town of Tezpur, Asom. Back home, in company of family, friends and unavoidable wagging tongues, Tanaya is forced to face her indecision and confusion, even as she tries to find answers to the unsettling questions running in her mind. Dealing with the aftermath of a decade-long heartbreak, coming to terms with new revelations, when she reaches the fork on the road, will Tanaya be able to make the right choice?

I had never booked a ticket on my own before, and as I waited for the website to take me to the paymentportal I felt my hands start getting clammy. I keyed inthe numbers, double checking each digit, and waited with bated breath, wondering if there was any way the system would know I wasn’t the owner of the card. Then it asked me for the OTP, and I panicked. How on earth would I know what the OTP was? What if the OTP wassent to Nibir’s phone? Think, think, all parts of my brain now told me in unison. In times of crisis my brain didn’tusually let me down, and I suddenly remembered the dongle Nibir had shown me sometime back. Trying to retrieve it within the specified time, I scurried to the closet and dragged out the briefcase where we kept all our important documents. I ruthlessly tossed all papers on the floor until I finally found the innocuous little thing right at the bottom. Thank you Murphy, I silently cursed; of course that had to be the last thing I found in the briefcase. With freedom just a tiny button and a random generated OTP away, I rushed back to my laptop, clutching the dongle in my hand. The moment I sat down on the floor though, the website told me my session had expired and that I had to start afresh. I groaned and raised my hands heavenwards.

Twenty minutes later, my tickets to Kolkata and then to Guwahati were booked. I checked my email thrice to make sure everything was in order, that I did have the itineraries, and then slumped on the floor taking all of it in. The adrenaline rush, that had driven me all this while,now left me feeling drained. I knew I had to take a few minutes deep breathing and indulging in the proverbial lull before I plunged head on into the storm that was certain to follow. Just as my breathing finally slowed down to normal my phone started ringing, and the moment I saw Nibir’sname flashing on my screen the sirens started wailing in my mind again. Why would he be calling me? It took my confused brain a few tries to come up with an answer that made sense. But of course, in my haste I had forgotten that it was after all Nibir’s credit card and that he must have received an email notifying him of any transaction made with the card.

It didn’t take me very long to decide what I had to do.Telling him the truth was out of question. So was lying to him. I decided to take the middle route yet again, by telling him the truth but not the whole truth. I just hoped he wouldn’t be able to call out on me. I was hopeless when it came to not telling the truth.

‘Hello?’ I said into the phone, my heart drumming a million beats inside my rib cage.

‘Hey, quick question, did you just use my credit card for some hefty transaction?’

He had always been a man to cut straight to the point.

‘Umm. . .Yeah. I, umm, I just booked tickets to go home next month. I was about to call you and let you know. . .’I let the sentence drift in the static between us. I surprised myself by how calm I sounded; given how my heart was struggling to break free, to make me blabber like an incoherent madwoman.

‘Is everything okay? You sound a little off. . . .’

Had it been some other time I would have smiled.This was so Nibir. No questions about why I was going home, or why I didn’t wait for him to come back from his conference. Not even a hint of rebuke for spending all that money on a whim. Just unadulterated concern for my wellbeing, and that’s what made it a million times more difficult for me.

‘Yeah! All okay!’ I forced myself to be chirpy. ‘Just missing home is all. You know it’s been a while. I know I should have probably asked you first. . . .’

‘No worries,’ he said, although I could hear the worry in his voice right away. His tone became brisk. ‘I have to rush back in. I just got the mail and wanted to confirm the card wasn’t stolen or something.’

‘No no!’ I even managed a fake laugh. ‘You go right ahead, we’ll talk when you get back home.’

We said our byes and disconnected the call. I let myself breathe again, and throwing the phone away from me as though it was contaminated, sat down on the floor.I felt one hot tear drop sting my eye, one traitor teardrop threatening to open the floodgates, and before I knew it, everything I had been holding in surged out of me in massive waves, making me heave along with it, threatening to tear me down with its brutality. The tears left me gulping and gasping for air, and still they wouldn’t stop. I wept because I had failed as a wife, wept for the starry-eyedbride who earnestly believed that she’d found her happily ever after, and I let myself weep for the years of my lifeI’d spent unhappy, letting regret eat me up inside.

After what seemed like eternity, the tears finally stopped. I sat up straight, gathering the scattered broken bits and pieces of me, and braced myself for everything was about to do. I went about mindlessly sorting through my stuff so I could decide which part of this life I was carrying with me and which ones I would leave behind. All that crying was cathartic, and I felt almost detached asI started packing. I know I had a lot to reflect upon, a lot of soul searching to do, but all that would have to wait.I had three hours left before I had to reach the airport,and five years of my married life to pack in two suitcases weighing not more than thirty kilos.