by Vani Mahesh
‘Sanjay, this is a load-bearing wall. Don’t drill any nails into this.’ Anu’s father patted at the column he was inspecting. As if Sanju was ever going to take a drill into hand!
Sanju nodded. ‘Sure, uncle. I won’t. Thanks for telling me.’ Nobody except Anu knew his fake politeness. But that stood Sanju in good stead with her father. He liked people who agreed with him.
Another hour, another round of coffee, and Anu’s parents were ready to call it a night. Anu’s mother spoke to her privately. ‘Anu, the house is too dusty. Get a maid fast. And, get a cook like Radha. Vicky will need his home food.’
Anu’s irritation suddenly started mounting. If there is no cook, wouldn’t she take care of Vicky’s nutrition? Well, okay, a cook would be good. She was not the cook-tasty-and-nutritious-meal type.
‘Anu, I have kept dinner for you two and some food for Vicky in the fridge. And …’ Her mother added worriedly, ‘… this house is too big. I don’t know how you will manage.’
‘I will be all right, Mummy. You go on now. Daddy is waiting.’
Anu suddenly felt too lonely once her parents left. Sanju was trying to get the TV to work and Vicky was busy drawing in the new book with the new set of crayons he had just got from his grandparents. Anu sat next to him on the floor and started colouring the borders.
‘Mumma! You are not colouring inside the line. Kavitha ma’am will not be happy with you.’ Vicky said all too gravely. That hit Anu—Vicky’s school! They had not talked much about it.
‘Sanju, we have to send Vicky to school. Have to get his TC and get him admitted some place.’
Sanju nodded. ‘Can you ask around tomorrow? I can ask Dave but he has no kids.’ Sanju added after a pause. ‘Can you also call some Internet provider and get us broadband? And a cable connection for the TV?’
These were precisely the things Anu had dreaded. Sanju would be busy at work and she would have to run around to get things done. She missed her old apartment that had everything they wanted and needed. If your life is mostly good, why change it? It is like throwing out a perfectly good pair of old jeans for a new but ill-fitting one.
Anu, all ready for a jog, looked around the property deciding which path to take. In a bid to belong to that fancy place, she had clothed herself in her best pair of tracks. She had dressed Vicky too in his good track pants and a pullover. Even if she thought so herself, Vicky looked beyond cute. It was eight-thirty in the morning and Sanju had left for work. Thanks to her mother storing breakfast in the fridge, Anu hadn’t gorged on Maggi.
Anu was not really in the mood to even walk, let alone jog but she had to get out of the house. She had things to do and a maid to find.
As if by a miracle when she had just about crossed her street, a woman in her fifties clad in a saree appeared before her. ‘Are you the new ones who have moved in?’ The woman asked brusquely in Kannada.
Who was she? Anu sized her up quickly. Her saree was quite nice and bright, the blouse was a perfect match, and she dangled a designer handbag. But she was certainly not a resident, Anu knew, but she decided to be careful. What if she was the poor relative of a resident? She smiled. ‘We just moved in. How about you? Are you from here?’
‘I work here. I thought you may need a maid.’
‘Oh, I do!’ Anu instantly regretted the over-enthusiasm in her voice. That showed her desperation.
‘I have seen your house. I used to work there.’ The woman was all business. ‘I work with my daughter. We can cook and clean for you.’
Really? Do wishes really come true this way? ‘Okay. When can you start?’
‘As soon as we settle the salary. The old owner used to give me eighteen thousand. But that was six months ago.’
Anu’s head started spinning even before the woman finished talking. She used to get ten thousand to teach! Maybe she should take up cleaning for a job.
The woman noticing Anu’s ashen face added. ‘See madam, nobody will work for less than that here. If you want to get only the floors cleaned, I will work for ten thousand. If you want cooking too, then eighteen.’
‘What about washing dishes and clothes?’
‘You have machines for that, no?’ the woman asked suspiciously. ‘If you pay twenty, I will run the machines for you.’
Now Anu got curious. She had to know how this alien land worked. ‘What about folding clothes and ironing them?’
The woman was now losing her patience. Anu was sure she had already labelled her a cheapskate and dismissed her off. ‘Here is my phone number.’ The woman expertly produced a small chit. ‘You call me. My name is Rathnamma. But soon. I have other offers.’
Vicky, bored with that wait, started tugging at her shirt. Anu thought of going back home but the state of it scared her. She made her decision. If they lived in a high-class place, they should be able to afford a high-class maid. ‘Rathnamma,’ she called after the woman. ‘Come back. You can start work now.’
Sanju would have a near heart-attack if she told him about her deal with the maid, but was there a choice?
11
Rathnamma insisted that she go for a walk with Vicky while she worked her magic. Anu agreed gleefully. There was nothing worth stealing in their house. Also, Anu was sure Rathnamma owned a better TV and a laptop than them.
Anu could not believe her eyes after two hours. The house was sparkling. There was not a speck of dust and the woman had made their furniture look decent. Who knew stacking everything up and fluffing the pillows would make such a big difference. ‘Madam, my daughter has made Chapathis and Bhindi curry. I will clean your barbeque area and the patio tomorrow.’
Anu nodded, trying not to look too thrilled. Who was she kidding! That was not her—squealing with delight was her. Throwing caution to air, Anu almost hugged Rathnamma. ‘Thanks so much. You have made it look so good. It even smells good.’
Rathnamma looked a little bewildered with this display of affection. ‘Madam, I brought all the cleaning supplies. You have to give me six-hundred rupees for that.’
Anu felt a little sheepish with her over-enthusiasm. Handing Rathnamma the money, Anu asked, ‘Will you help me unbox these? I will pay you extra.’
Rathnamma agreed. ‘Five hundred per hour, madam. I charge more but you are still new.’ What she actually meant, Anu was sure, was you are poor.
‘Change this furniture soon, madam. The last owner had some really good stuff.’ Said Rathnamma inspecting the house with a slight frown. ‘Nobody has this type of stuff in this complex.’
Anu wondered why she was not even offended by that remark. ‘No. We can’t afford to change anything now. All our money is going towards the rent.’ She refrained from adding, ‘and your salary.’ She was sure Rathnamma too refrained from adding, ‘Then why are you here?’
Sanju almost squealed in surprise. Very unlike him to display emotions. ‘This is neat, Anu! You found someone to clean the house.’
The delight on Sanju’s face was worth what Rathnamma was charging. ‘Well, the woman charges a bomb but she is good.’
‘How much?’ Sanju asked with a bit of panic. When Anu explained the various rates, he fell silent. When he spoke, his voice was low, like it was coming from a cave. ‘Anu, I will cook in the evening and do the dishes. Hire her only for cleaning the house.’
Anu was dumbstruck. Was he for real? When had he ever cooked or cleaned? She almost blurted how she had anticipated this dreadful life even before they moved here. She wanted to add how she knew Sanju would not be able to bear such fancy bills. But she stopped herself. There was no point arguing. She had to lie to him. (White lie - dictionary meaning - a harmless lie that saves someone from hurt. Real meaning - a harmless lie that quickly comes back to bite you in the ass.)
‘Let me negotiate with her. I am sure she was just bandying the numbers and did not really mean it.’
‘Not a rupee more than ten thousand, Anu.’
Yes, sir. Thought Anu, all the while quickly calculating how much she had
in her account. She had to pay the extra eight thousand herself or she could become the Rathnamma of the house.
All the boxes unboxed and the items put away, Anu felt a weight lifted off her chest. Her wallet felt lighter too after coughing up thousand-five-hundred rupees towards Rathnamma’s charges for unboxing. But it was worth the money spent. Now she had the onerous task of finding Vicky a school. The sweet smiling receptionist had handed her a list of four schools, eight tennis coaching centres, two each for archery and shooting arenas. Anu picked a school closest to home. She was visiting them at three that afternoon.
Anu started her Santro after three days. Vicky looked too happy to be going on a car ride finally. It sputtered and coughed a little but then started, as it always did. As she eased it out of the driveway, there were curious glances cast at her. She was driving a cheap relic. Most houses had their Audis, Benzes, and BMWs parked nonchalantly outside. The car of the least denomination in that community was an Innova. Anu couldn’t wait to get out of the complex and get on a public road where a Santro was normal and a Jaguar was not.
The school visit failed spectacularly for both Anu and Vicky. The facilitator, who showed the school around and informally interviewed Vicky, said smoothly at the end. ‘He is a bright child but looks like he has been through traditional schooling. Here we emphasize on overall personality development.’
Anu was tempted to ask what aspect of four-year-old Vicky’s personality wasn’t round enough for her. Instead, she smiled and said, ‘That is wonderful. Personality is everything.’
Then the proud-as-a-peacock facilitator handed Anu the fee chart. The first few rows sounded unbelievably unreasonable. Academic fees—60,000, sports—5,000, Computer lab (Really? For pre-schoolers?)—5,000.
After a lot of these five to eight thousand rupee rows, the sheet continued onto the next page. Building fees—50,000. Fast-track Kids—1,00,000 (What was this anyway?) Scholarship fund—1,00,000.
They were the big ones. As Anu glanced at the total, hidden way at the bottom, the fee per annum came to six lakhs!
‘That is too steep for LKG!’ Anu’s voice sounded a bit too whiney to her own ears. Why couldn’t she say the same thing with more verve? Like she did in Vijaynagar? Were these posh-looking coordinators and facilitators making her nervous?
‘We don’t call it LKG here like in traditional schools. We call it Development Level 2. DL 2.’ The woman corrected Anu. ‘Also, you can pay it in three instalments!’ The woman said brightly. Oh, that is fantastic but the total still remains the same—Anu didn’t say any of those things. What was the point when she knew she was not going to put Vicky there? The usually bouncy Vicky had sat quietly in a corner. As if the whole scenario had overwhelmed him too.
The woman now turned to Vicky and cooed. ‘Vivith, do you like this school?’
‘Vivikth,’ Vicky corrected her. He had an unusually sharp hearing when it came to mispronunciations of his name. ‘I don’t like this school. You are not my friend.’ He stated matter of factly and lurched at Anu.
Anu controlled her laughter but did not apologize for Vicky. Why demean his firmly stated opinion? Politely murmuring a thank you, she started towards the exit. Then she stopped, remembering something. ‘What is Fast-track Kids?’ She couldn’t leave without knowing what it was!
The woman brightened up again. ‘They are our co-curricular partners for maths and science. They even start teaching concepts of Trigonometry by class four!’
That did it. Anu vividly remembered how Trigonometry had tortured her in the tenth standard. That very Trigonometry had made her take Humanities instead of Science. That decision, in turn, had resulted in her mother’s deep disappointment for months. Her only daughter was not going to be a software engineer while every other kid in Vijaynagar was.
Vicky found his bounce the minute they left the school building. What next? Anu felt her panic spread all through her body. The other schools on the list would not be any different from this one. Was every little task going to be this hard in her new life?
12
Sanju came home in a good mood. It was Friday after all. Anu, having gotten over the traumatic experience at the school with a good nap, was in a good mood too.
‘Hey, Dave asked me if we wanted to go out for dinner with him and a few of his friends. I have already agreed. Get ready, babe.’
‘Where are we going?’ Anu had to know every detail. ‘We, as in a few couples? Children too?’
‘I think Mariott.’ Sanju beamed. ‘Dave’s girlfriend is in town. So I am sure it is a couple’s thing. But I don’t know about taking kids.’
‘Can you call and ask if we can take Vicky? If others are bringing their kids, we will too.’ Anu started working out the details in her head. Leaving Vicky with her parents would take insanely long. She could ask Rathnamma but she would charge an insane amount of money.
‘Ask the maid to stay with Vicky. We will have a nice evening out. See, this is the kind of life I was talking about. Living in a luxury house, going out for classy dinners with friends.’ Sanju looked so visibly happy, Anu decided not to point out any negatives to the situation. She could think of many, like for example, the cost of dining at Mariott. But they could afford that. It was just dinner.
Rathnamma’s daughter agreed to stay with Vicky for a thousand rupees for three hours. Anu brought it down to seven hundred. But the fact was, she had begun to lose a sense of money after moving here. Seven hundred would seem exorbitant a week ago but now, after dealing with Rathnamma and the school, it sounded reasonable.
The dinner was all good and friendly when it was just Dave and his girlfriend. Soon the other two couples joined them. Since Anu had already had a cocktail, one of the wives looked familiar but she couldn’t place her. Anu had a strange sort of memory. She could remember incidents even from her past life but not faces.
The woman now stood squarely before Anu and frowned. ‘Oh! You are the teacher from that school in Vijaynagar.’
Anu gasped when she recognized the woman before her. What were the odds! Anu stared blankly and asked, ‘How come you are here?’
The woman gave a short laugh. ‘I want to ask you the same! I heard you are a new resident at Verdant. I am Meena by the way.’
Now the whole conversation from before unravelled before Anu. There really was a small-time god who was playing pranks with her and having a good chuckle at her expense.
‘I heard we are meeting two old residents from Verdant. So, you live here and send your child to Dew Drops?’ Now Anu was truly intrigued.
Meena laughed derisively. ‘That is my friend’s son. My son goes to school here.’
The man who stood next to Meena urged her forward. ‘You can chitchat later. Now take a seat.’ He seemed to be in a terrible hurry to begin drinking.
With everyone’s attention converging on her, Meena bent down and whispered to Anu. ‘I have much to ask you! Later, okay?’
The cool breeze, live DJ, perfect lighting, swaying palm trees—all the pretty things Anu was enjoying thus far lost their allure that second. This woman Meena was trouble.
Anu glanced around to see Sanju nurse his first pint of beer and the other men down Vodka in gallons. Soon Meena and her yes-woman started chugging swanky cocktails one after another. Ginny drank in moderation and so did Anu.
Meena asked Anu where they had put Vicky to school. Anu, hoping for a half-decent conversation, made the mistake of being honest.
‘Yet to find a school for him. Went to Indigo International today morning. Six lakhs for kindergarten! Can you imagine? We paid sixty thousand in Dew Drops.’ Anu rolled her eyes.
‘Oh,’ the two wives exchanged glances with each other. Meena spoke relaxing her bulk into her chair. ‘Don’t even compare the two schools. Indigo is high-quality education.’
Anu was baffled. The nerve of this woman to insult Sumitra aunty’s school. ‘Dew Drops gives a world-class education too. The principal has modelled it after Shantiniketan.’
‘Then why did you move here? You said the school was so fantastic that you sent your son there.’ Meena the Meanie looked at Anu challengingly. The men were in their own world to be a party to this, Ginny squirmed at this attack, Meena’s yes-woman assumed a pose similar to her boss—head tilted, brows raised, lips quirked up.
Anu decided to stay away from that line of conversation. ‘I had my reasons to move. Not because I wanted a better school.’ With that, she picked up her drink and gulped it down.
That conversation tipped the whole balance. Anu could feel how the two women degraded her even more in their minds. Anu was as good as dead to them. They spoke about a new Pilates-with-props program that had started in the community Yoga Studio and they made sure to ask only Ginny if she wanted to join in. Then they spoke about a spa they were visiting with their other friends on Tuesday and again they craned their necks and invited only Ginny. Anu was never one to take offence easily but these women were good! They made sure Anu was miserable. Soon, Meena changed the seating arrangements so that Anu was now pushed to a corner. This sort of adult bullying was all new to Anu. The only time she was bullied was in the sixth standard. A ringleader had taken a dislike for Anu and had made sure nobody spoke to her the entire year. Except that, nobody had disliked her this strongly and openly.
Instead of focussing on what was stressing her out, Anu decided to read the menu. The food sounded good and she made a mental note of what she wanted to eat. When the time came to order the main course, only she and Sanju turned out to be vegetarians.
‘No veg food for us, please!’ Meena declared with aplomb and the others laughed in agreement. Since she knew the place like the back of her hand, she offered to order for everyone. Courtesy Meena the Meanie, while the others enjoyed platters and platters of food, Anu and Sanju had to be happy nibbling on a plate of salad and a small pizza. Meena was the ringleader of the group, all right! It was sixth grade all over again. Anu had to suffer debarment having fallen out of the leader’s grace.
