Heart of the Matter

          The homo sapien  species  around  me swear  by a deep knowledge that Rabin , my husband , has given ‘ all of his  heart’ to me  . Of that statement , I am as dubious as I am  intimidated . For , having been initiated into a world of logical reasoning from a child I  cannot believe that  Rabin would thrive ( as well as he does ) sans a heart ! A heart is certainly a vital organ in the human body , and is indispensible for one’s healthy  existence . So , when Rabin gives me ‘ all of his heart ‘ it can imply a serious condition  , which I must protest  vehemently  against with all my being . How can I have ‘ all of his heart ‘ ?! I dare not ! I am his dear and truly devoted wife after all ! I cannot profess to accept anything  short  of  his well- being , and certainly not his ‘ heart’ . Again , another reason why I cannot accept ‘ all of his heart’ is perhaps due to  a selfish ,but nonetheless , all the more pragmatic and practical  fact . Born with a large heart , I have carefully tried to maintain that with much grit and determination . And , over the years it has grown , in right proportion and size , to  my bountiful surface area . In the process , I have been necessitated to gobble anzigem  tablets to a dozen . So , in moments of deepest introspection , when I begin to visit upon the starkest truth of life ---, I wonder ----- , ‘Can I afford yet ‘ another heart’  , besides my very  large one ? ‘ Ah ! Rabin may be a selfless dear . He may (supposedly ) wish to give  ‘all of his heart ‘ to me . But is it possible for me to reciprocate like a good spouse --be equally selfless—and accept ‘another heart ‘ --? I can imagine the somersaults of linear images on the screen of the cardiogram ! Ahem ! No such complications , please ! Not when you are batting past half a century !  So in our very happy , married life -- I try to keep the ‘ heart ‘ thing  out . Whenever it props up I look the other way ,--try amnesia , schizophrenia ,and what have you . Sometimes I merely scratch my nose , rub my eyes , rootle into my ears or do anything but look ‘ heart’ in the face . And then, such blessed peace ! ‘ We fleet , we float , we fleetly flee , we fly .’ That is the gait of our life that breezes on with marital bliss ,albeit ,without the matter of the heart .

       The ‘ heart ‘ thing conveniently out of the way ---we were both ,--at once relieved and yes , happy . But curious things can come your way at curious times . It happened on my flight JET CONNECT S2 4363 , flying from Bangalore to Guwahati , at the height of above 30,000 ft above the sea level , amidst billowy white clouds , and  against the backdrop of varied azure hues . I was getting romantic . Suddenly, at Kolkotta , a Maharashtrian family barged into the aircraft .  Their seats were all scattered . Two chirpy teen-aged girls and the mother secured their seats one after another, in a line adjacent to mine .  The father bobbed his head up and down until his wife exclaimed ‘Teekre ! ‘ ( almost in Eureka style ) ! I smiled to myself at the jolly robustness of the family. Then, as the man groggily moved towards my side --, I realized that ‘ Teekre ‘ meant the vacant seat next to mine . The gracious soul in me in the aisle seat went into a flurry of activities to accommodate the man . I started with opening my seat belt , adjusting bag , book , specs ,sandwich , coffee spread out cosily on my ample lap and the folding board . I also made a sizeable number of u-turns , s-turns and l-turns before the man could wriggle in and settle down in his seat . By the  end of it ,it was some achievement ! For, the contenders for space were  both by no means midget sized ! Work accomplished  , I almost felt radiant at the team –work , and deigned to give my co- passenger  smile , as in , ‘ Well done buddy ! We did it ! ‘ That much of civility done with , I began digging into the second life of William Dalrymple’s ‘ Nine Lives ‘  with gusto . But my concentration kept wavering  . I had become the focal point of someone else’s concentration . Every other second, the Maharastrian lady looked back at our row. ‘ At one point she succeeded in  catching her husband’s eye and signalled him about something . Next , she leaned across the aisle , elbowed me out  into a non-entity and began whispering something into her husband’s ears . Soon she needed a gum ,  some  water , her hanky and I know not what ...  from her husband, who appeared only too ready to comply  . These demands were proving a little too disastrous for me as I had to flatten out to oblige her every time . I caught the  eye of a young woman by the window of my row . She was giggling . ‘ Matter  of the heart ! ‘ she mouthed the  words silently at me as  I turned a quizzical look towards her . ‘ Eh!?  Heart ?’ I jumped up in horror ! ‘  At this age ? ‘ I mouthed back . ‘Why not ?’ My new  airborne  friend rolled her big eyes at the  duo  and whispered , ‘chweet na ? ‘ ‘na ?’ I was quite horrified by now . I truly can’t be confronted with the ‘heart ‘ thing all alone at the dizzy heights 0f 36 ,000 ft. above  ground ! I have to look beyond---, above , below , to the ieft , the right , anywhere--- . I decided to opt for ‘Nine Lives ‘ The detachment of the Jain Tirthankaras or the Tantric meditation of the Theyyam dancers of Kannur were the perfect means to salvage myself in the situation . But my errant thoughts deceived me .  Are these matters of the heart contagious ? Er, like flu , or viral fever -- ? I really do not know . The duo was  coming together again . . . the girl by the window was thoroughly amused .She drew  hearts in the air and grinned at me . I shook my head utterly dazed . Can I be affected in any way ?  Oh ! God ! I will not know how to handle it ....not at fifty plus ! I let out a fervent prayer . Let Rabin stand at the airport to receive me with a bunch of red roses or even a casket of chocolates ! ( I can suffer them too well ) ! But , Lord ! let him not offer me his heart ! Plainspeak.....  I simply would not know what to do with it ! That’s the heart of the matter of ...er , the heart .