The Misfit

She just loved fashion designing. He had strayed into this field because he seemed a misfit everywhere else.

She was the class topper. He scraped through, bumbling about clumsily from semester to semester, helped by his friends and classmates.

She was confident, innovative and eager to learn. He felt embarrassed about his shortcomings and wished for college to get over so that he could get a job in some field, just anything, far, far away from designing.

She got picked up by top fashion designers. He had to get into the sales of a textile firm.

She moved on the clouds, hob-nobbed with the stars. He had to ride his two-wheeler in the dirt and beg for business.

How did their destinies unite? How did it bring them together? What propelled him to propose and her to accept.

To the shock of all their classmates and professors, the two announced their engagement. Everybody who knew the two of them believed their union was destined to be short-lived, a momentary aberration that was destined to be rectified when whatever blinded her was removed and her vision cleared.

But to their shock, not only did they go on to marry but had two beautiful children too.

When she chose to give up her star-studded career in favour of bringing up her children, there was much disappointment of how she had so easily conformed to patriarchal traditions instead of forging a new path, being an inspiration to other women.

He bore the brunt of the silent criticism that surrounded him with humility. She just laughed as she saw her children growing up, relishing the moments. And since she was so good at everything, she blanketed her weary husband and happy children in the warmth of her love and happiness.

"What do you see in him?" some asked.

"You have just destroyed your life," her well-wishers admonished her.

"Such a promising career and you are wasting your life behind the walls?"

She focused on her sons. Her elder one was hard-working, intelligent and inclined towards science. By the time he was in the tenth standard, he was keen on pursuing medicine and dedicated his days to prepare for the exam.

The younger son, now in eighth, seemed to be the eternal clown, light-hearted, barely scraping through -- 'just like his father,' was the clear verdict.

Didn't she ever think of her past? Didn't she have regrets? Didn't she think of the career she was missing?

She did. She missed it very much. So as the children grew older, she upgraded her skills. She often thought of her days in college, the excitement of learning and implementing what she had learned to create new styles.

But she also remembered that night, when she had stumbled on him playing the most heart-touching music she had ever heard. She was up late, studying for the exams. Her room was the corner one and she could hear the faint notes floating towards her in the clear night. She closed her eyes, lost. As the notes rose, she felt a tug to find the source.

She sneaked out and followed the notes. Alone, away from the hostel rooms, he was sitting on a bench facing the boundary wall late one night. She stood without making a sound, letting the music wash over her. When he finished, he remained seated for some time. She let the silence cover her and reach the depths of her heart.

When he finally got up and turned, he was startled and let out a yelp unwittingly, as if he were seeing an apparition. "It's me," she said hurriedly.

"Oh my God! You startled me," he replied and the two giggled. But it seemed profane and disturbed the divinity of the moment. She mellowed. "You played beautifully."

"Thank you."

"I have never heard you play before!"

"I have been warned--to perform well in the exams or else... Was just drowning my sorrows," he said with a chuckle.

"What are you doing here? You should be pursuing music," she urged him.

"I know I am a misfit here. But this is the least I could do though my father is still disappointed that I am not even in textile technology. He thinks... this is not a manly enough profession."

"How did you get admission, though?" she asked curiously.

"Oh... Some influence, last-minute scramble," he replied.

She hated him that instant and walked back to her room silently as if somehow the pot of divine music had been deliberately shattered. During the day, when their paths crossed in college, they were like strangers.

But the next time he played, she couldn't stay back in her room. It drew her to him and, as before, she waited silently. When he finished, she started walking back. 

This continued a few times. One night, his voice stopped her. "Can I know how I offended you?"

She turned to face him. "I believe we must come up only through merit. You have no fashion sense and yet you are here, because of influence. I can't respect you for that."

"And yet you come back every time I play."

"Because you are talented and your music is beautiful. Had you pursued that..." 

He hung his head as he said softly, "You think I didn't want to? But in my family, nothing short of engineering, medicine or chartered accountancy is an acceptable career. I pleaded with my father to enroll me in a music college or at least learn from some master, but he thought it would be a waste of time. Music, he said, doesn't feed mouths."

"But it fills the soul," she replied. 

He grunted. "We cannot live on art and air," he pointed out, maybe mouthing his father's words.

She heard the tremor in his voice and went closer. "I am sorry, I judged you hastily," she said softly.

That was the moment he fell in love with her. But she? She had already given her heart to him that first night she heard him play. She saw beyond his ordinariness in college, a potential star hidden by the clouds of expectations. She saw the weight he carried on his shoulders and wanted to share it. 

When he proposed, she had but two requests, "Promise me you will never try to become a fashion designer." 

He was startled but smiled ironically, "There is no danger of that. No one is going to hire me as one."

She smiled. "The second is, whatever else you may do, you will never stop playing the flute."

He could no longer hold himself back. He crushed her to him and kissed her. When he whispered, "I love you," he meant it more deeply than he had till then.

She too saw him in her younger son and felt proud. She didn't know what the future held, but she could help her son find his footing in something he liked to do. She would encourage him to pursue music, which he loved and was a natural at. She saw the pride in her husband's eyes whenever he listened to his younger son sing. "But how can he survive as a musician? He has to have a career," one day he asked his wife.

"If he does what he is good at, he will find his way," she assured him.

The older son got through in medicine. "It is all because of her," many said. Even he agreed silently though she wouldn't hear of it.

"All I did was let him find what he likes and allowed him to pursue it," she was quick to point out.

"But what about you?" many retorted.

She smiled with a twinkle in her eyes. Who said she wasn't doing what she loved? She was working with fashion designers now that her children were older. But she was doing something more.

When the younger son was 15 years old, their friends received a beautifully designed card inviting them to the launch of her fashion brand. On the occasion, there would be a concert by her younger son, accompanied by her husband on the flute. 

"What? He plays the flute?" they asked stunned.

Those who attended couldn't stop talking about it. "We don't know whom to praise. Her designs, the son's singing or the father's flute. Overall, a very nice evening, well-spent."

Needless to say, the son went to a renowned music school. As she guided her tailors to cut the silk fabric to the required shape, she hoped he would be able to pursue his dreams and lead a happy life.

He? He works as a consultant now. He needs to make time for practicing flue under a master.