Swapna stared at the phone once more in disbelief. Was this a dream? No, there was her mother being her busy self and chattering. But Swapna's senses weren't responding to the gossip her mother was gleefully sharing. The photo, the photo...All she wanted was to be back home right then and strangle Bhaskar, her husband, whose happy face in the photo dared her to do it.

She had left him in his usual busy state to visit her parents barely a week ago. She was happy to get away from the routine till a friend had dropped a bomb. She forced herself to look at it again; a jubilant Bhaskar with a young smiling girl with her hands on his shoulders. Swapna looked away again in disgust. How could he do this! She thought she wanted to cry but she couldn't summon any tears. It was as if she knew in her heart that he would do it one day. But how many times had they both talked about it and pitied other couples who went through it? Bhaskar was always vehement about it; it was wrong to subject one's partner to such an agony. And now? Agreed that they hardly talked to each other these days much less anything else but he should've at least said something! Was there a hint anytime? She struggled to recollect. May be he was a bit moodier than usual but she was tired of his moods  after dealing with them for so long. Was he doing it just to get her attention back? She couldn't imagine herself standing next to him again. She suddenly felt old and left out.

Her eyes wandered to the photo again. That girl...couldn't she have stopped him? Put some sense into that old head of his? Couldn't she figure that he would have children of her age and a wife who...now tears of self-pity rolled down her cheeks and disappeared into her mass of grey hair, which she had opened to oil . A sob escaped from her, startling her mother who was still talking. "What happened, tell me!", she shook Swapna's shoulders, as her tears became a stream. "Oh, it's terrible, Amma...Bhaskar has gone and dyed his hair black!I don't know what to do....."