Test of Time

My husband left for work on the morning of 12th October fourteen months ago as usual like he had done since the last sixteen years. We exchanged our customary kiss half on the cheek and half in the air as he walked out of the door.

My three children, a boy, and two girls, fifteen, thirteen and twelve had left for school. I switched on the radio to my favourite music station and started my usual morning chores, doing up the beds, picking up wet towels, straightened discarded jeans and shirts, gathered empty mugs and Pepsi bottles, books and magazines my brood had carelessly left behind.

It was a bright clear day and things got done quickly after the maid, I call her the highness, made her entrance an hour late, banging away at the pots and pans, cleaning, scrubbing, washing, and chopping with lighting speed.

Children came back from school and chaos prevailed once again till they settled down to do their home-work. I relaxed after a tiring days work with a refreshing cup of tea when I heard the door open. It had to be Jimmy, surprised I looked at the clock.

“Jimmy is that you?” I called out just as he walked into the room. “Heavens is smiling today. What makes you come home so early?”

“Its hell, not heaven!” he complained, a frown on his face. I looked at him closely, he looked upset and gray. My heart skipped a beat, something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?” I asked worried.

“A meeting was called in the afternoon by the Managing Director of all the departmental heads, and without any explanation, five of us were thanked for our contribution to the company and that it was time for us to make way for the junior engineers. Our service was no longer required by the company. Just like that, without any warning.” He snapped his fingers as he said those last few words, and slumped down on the sofa.

I don’t remember what exactly I had said to him or how I had reacted to the news, but I think I said, “Don’t worry darling, I am sure something will work out soon.” Giving him a kiss, we sat together holding hands.

Neither of us had ever experienced this new feeling of helplessness before. The hurt and humiliation showed on his face. As I listened trying to give him my undivided attention my mind began to wonder. A thousand questions raised their heads. Will we have to sell our house? Would I have to go out and seek a job? Will I be able to work after getting used to the luxury and comfort for sixteen years? What if someone took ill and needed hospitalization? What will we do? Where will the money come from? These dark thoughts engulfed my mind, making me weak.

Jimmy had a bad night tossing and turning while I pretended to be asleep. At breakfast, he looked ashen. Children had sensed that something was not quite right and gulped down their milk and had their breakfast in complete silence. Once they left for school, we sat down and talked and neither of us really thought he would be out of work for long.

During the next couple of weeks, we pulled ourselves together. We chalked out a budget to pull us through this difficult time, and tightened our belts to bring in the change required in our lifestyle. It was difficult but we managed. The only problem I faced was having Jimmy at home twenty-four hours and getting in my way, the entire routine of housekeeping went into a spin. Timings and work pattern of daily chores had to be changed to suit his whims and fancies and with each passing day my blood pressure shot up to an unpredictable heights.

Our phone rang often in those early days. Friends and colleagues had contacts and interviews were lined up. This was a new experience for Jimmy and it made him nervous. Every time he went for an interview I wished him luck with mixed emotions. I wanted him to get a job, God knows how I hoped and prayed something worthwhile would come his way, but at the same time I didn’t want him to get a job outside our city. I didn’t want to move, and when an outstation letter arrived with a sorry message I would sigh with relief.

As month after month passed by and being unemployed, we rode on an emotional roller coaster. We kept busy with the hope that the activities would help balance our sanity.

With time hanging on hand, Jimmy took to his hobby which had for years remained invisible from sight. All through the years of busy schedule and travel from work had
kept him from giving time to his very first love, Philately. His passion for his Queen
Victoria, admiration for King George V, fascinated with the Black Penny, and the rare cancellations and water marks of century old stamps, imperfs and blocks of four, was something to be seen and experienced.

He stacked up the heavy albums and bulky Stanley Gibbons catalogues on his writing desk and on the floor, and began his day by gazing at his stamps. He kept busy with a magnifying glass in one hand, a tweezer nearby and an out of bounds sign marked around him. Children were forbidden to come any where near him when he had his beauties in front of his nose, literally. Very soon he began buying and selling stamps, turning it into a part time profitable business which took care of the expenses to some extent.

It was my dream to write, and this was a good time than any other to put my creative thinking to test, so I put pen to paper and my very first short story came to life. I spent the next few days editing and re-writing, changing a plot here or the sequence there. Once I was satisfied with the final proof, I put it on my computer, took a print out and posted it to a leading women’s magazine, hoping against hope that my story would be accepted.

After a few months of waiting, I received a letter of acceptance with a cheque made out for two thousand rupees. We celebrated my success as a writer with the children that evening.

We were both happy with the work we liked doing. Expenses were just the same as before even though we tried cutting down as much as we could. What helped us the most was the understanding and maturity our kids showed. It made it easier to accept and face up each day as it came.

Jimmy realized that it might be longer before he finds a well paying job. The thought was depressing but his mood would take a lift the moment he focused on the crowned head of his queens, their proud and regal profile on the square piece of yellowed paper or sometimes in a mint condition sitting like good old girls under plastic strips in thick leather bound albums.

When Jimmy was not pre-occupied with his beauties, we spent time talking about a lot of things. Men seem to be conditioned by society to value themselves in terms of the job status and earning power. We discussed how to over come this set back. How much further disastrous could this situation get. Getting my articles and short-stories published was not going to pay the bills, medical expenses, and school fees. And besides to keep the hobby turned low key business of buying and selling stamps going, we required ready cash. When I suggested to Jimmy that I should try and get a job he was reluctant but ultimately gave in to my constant nagging.

I tried to find a job. And I tried and tried. Only this time I came home as depressed and frustrated as my husband had. Some of my experiences were even funny, but a decent job was hard to get. I even tried selling encyclopedias door to door but gave it up within a week, defeated by people’s rudeness and doors banging on my face.

Every morning Jimmy and I would search the job vacancy section. I would excitedly send out my resume only to be dejected when no calls came. My husband’s eye would linger over an ad which came out everyday; it read, ‘Experienced drivers holding valid license, wanted for a privately run taxi service. Experience in driving imported cars an added bonus.’ His face ashen he would look at me and my stomach would knot in pain seeing the beaten look in his eyes. His self-esteem had taken a beating.

We kept busy. Pretending the next day would bring us good luck. My husband continued with his philately, attending exhibitions and making contacts with dealers, buyers and collectors. I started to quilt. Shortly I advertised to teach quilting and embroidery. Surprisingly I had quite a few housewives and teenagers coming in to learn the craft.

I should have done this sooner.

Eight months later my health suffered and I had to shut down the classes. I felt cheated and upset, and all my anger and frustration got directed towards my kids and they learnt very quickly to keep out of my way when those dark moods over took my sanity.

As the eleventh and the twelfth month came and went, the phone calls became fewer and fewer and our tempers got hot and testy. We fought about whose turn it was to do the dishes or clean the house and the children got on our nerves.

We hadn’t been to a movie or out to eat in months. Our big outing now was either to a wholesale market or discount sales. After all these months of saving and stretching the rupee we have mastered on making a full proof budget. We pay cash for everything. We will never go back to extensive use of credit cards, or care free spending. A non-vegetarian meal is only for occasions like birthdays or a special celebration, a luxury we all look forward to.

Through all the hardships we have gone through a bond of togetherness grew stronger between us. Jimmy has begun to look at the brighter side of all difficult situations and once again drawing strength from my family I began my craft classes.

Simplicity has brought in much joy into our home. Now more than ever we look forward to having our family and friends come and visit us. We enjoy the time together, talking and sharing.

The worst of times has also been the best of times. Our marriage has been tested. The stressful situation has brought out our strengths and weaknesses. After fourteen months Jimmy is still unemployed. Maybe next week or next month something will turn up. How long will it last? We don’t know.

But we are prepared for the arduous times ahead. We have our beautiful children, our health, and a roof over our head, and a growing respect for each other.

We’ve come a long way since the day Jimmy came home early.