Swimming in the Monsoon Sea

by Shyam Selvadurai

  Once the car had left, Aunty Bundle stood for a moment in the driveway, not looking at Niresh. She straightened the neckline of her blouse and pushed her handbag up under her arm. Then, with a deep breath, she came towards them.

  “Hello, dear, how are you?” She smiled, but did not look him in the eye as they shook hands. “I am very pleased to finally meet you. I’m sorry I have not had you over before, but what with my work and everything, I haven’t had a moment. Now come-come, Amrith, let’s go and see your uncle.”

  And with that, she hurried ahead of them into the foyer.

  His uncle was expecting them on the terrace and Aunty Bundle led the way up there. Niresh and Amrith followed in silence.

  When Aunty Bundle saw his uncle across the terrace, she was still for a moment, a great sadness passing over her face. She struggled to compose herself, then walked across to him, her head held high.

  His uncle rose slowly from his seat, straightening his shirt, flattening his hair.

  When Aunty Bundle reached the table, they both stood staring at each other.

  “Hello, Mervin.”

  “Hello, Bundle.”

  In the pool, some children were calling to each other in a foreign language. There was a tinkling of glasses and ice from the bar.

  “Thank you for inviting Niresh to spend the day,” his uncle said. “It is very nice of you.” There was a sheepish expression on his face.

  “It’s a pleasure. The boys seem to be getting on so well, it would be nice for Amrith to have his cousin come home.”

  She smiled at Niresh and Amrith. “Now, why don’t you boys walk around a bit and leave us adults to catch up?”

  They left them alone but, without a word being spoken between the cousins, they did not go too far, as if fearing something bad might happen in their absence. They stayed at the other end of the terrace, making feeble attempts at conversation, but all the while looking in the direction of the adults.

  His uncle and Aunty Bundle did not appear to be saying very much. They sat in awkward silence, every so often exchanging a few words. After a while, Aunty Bundle got up and shook his uncle’s hand. She came across the terrace and, as she drew near, Amrith could see how tense she was.

  When they were in the car, Aunty Bundle leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. A sweat had broken out on her forehead and she scrambled through her handbag, took out her handkerchief, and mopped her face. Her hand was shaking.

  Aunty Bundle dropped Amrith at the gates of their house, saying there was one more errand she had to run.

  When she came home, an hour later, the rest of the family were out in the courtyard. Her sarong was dirty from kneeling in soil; she had been to his mother’s grave. Yet, instead of returning with red eyes, as she usually did, she was almost smiling. This meeting with his uncle had been difficult, but it seemed to have brought her some reconciliation with the past.

  Uncle Lucky was seated in a Planter’s chair having a drink and, attracted by the radiance of her face, he took hold of her hand as she went by.

  Aunty Bundle laughed as if she were a girl, and pulled her hand away. “What is this, men, embarrassing me.” She passed on into the house.

  Amrith looked after her and felt a grudging respect.

  11

  Kassanava

  The next morning, Amrith had dressed and eaten his breakfast before anyone else. After Mendis went to pick up Niresh, he wandered around the courtyard, then went to his room, only to come out again.

  Selvi passed by and caught him dawdling under the jak tree. “Waiting for your boyfriend?”

  He gave her a disdainful glare.

  She giggled and went on her way.

  Mendis finally returned with his cousin. Amrith rushed forward to greet Niresh as he stepped out of the car. They grinned at each other and shook hands warmly, Amrith trying not to flinch at his cousin’s grip.

  Eva, Zsa Zsa, and Magda had come running out of the living room, wagging their tails. They crowded around the stranger.

  “Just ignore them, Niresh. Shoo! They’re a real nuisance.”

  But his cousin had got down on one knee and was saying in a high silly voice, “Well, hello, girl. Yes, hello to you too and you too.”

  The dogs were beside themselves. They rolled over on their backs, stuck their legs in the air, and made pedaling gestures, their tongues lolling out foolishly as Niresh scratched their stomachs.

  Aunty Bundle was approaching and Niresh stood up.

  “Hello, dear, welcome-welcome.” Her smile was genuine, unlike the last time they met. She shook his hand and then, seeing that Niresh was hot and sweaty, she said to Amrith, “Haven’t you offered your cousin a glass of thambili, yet? Ttttch, how inhospitable. Haven’t I taught you children anything? The boy is not used to our climate, nah.” She beamed up at Niresh. “Have you had thambili before?”

  “No, ma’am, I haven’t,” Niresh said, his voice and demeanor deferential.

  “It’s coconut water. Very good for quenching thirst. Now, do you eat crabs, dear?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “Good-good. I’ll send my Mendis to the market for crabs. There’s a new moon, which is the perfect time to get them. They don’t scurry about, as they would under a full moon, and so will be nice and succulent.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. That would very nice.”

  She smiled up at him again. “You must call me Aunty, dear. In Sri Lanka, that’s how we address older people.” She touched his arm. “Now you must treat our home as yours.” She bustled back into the house, calling, “Jane-Nona! Jane-Nona! I need the shopping list.” The dogs followed after her.

  His cousin was charmed by Aunty Bundle.

  “Mala, Mala, hurry, men, we’re going to be late.” Selvi sauntered into the living room, looking back, calling to her sister. She was pretending not to have seen Niresh.

  Niresh became a little uneasy. Amrith had assured him that the girls had forgiven him for teasing them, although they really hadn’t.

  “I’m coming, men,” Mala yelled, also for effect, and hurried across the living room with her cloth bag over one shoulder.

  They came out into the courtyard and stopped, pretending to be surprised to see Niresh. Their charade irritated Amrith.

  “Mala, Selvi,” he said, “this is Niresh.”

  “Oh, hello.” They nodded at him coolly, standing at a distance.

  “It’s great to meet you guys.” Niresh went towards them, with his most charming smile, and offered his hand.

  They shook it after a brief hesitation.

  “Listen, I’m sorry for what I said on the phone the other day.”

  “We didn’t care.” Selvi glared at him.

  “Yeah,” Niresh said, smiling, “I know, you guys are good sports. But, anyway, I felt I should apologize.”

  “We have a nickname for you,” Selvi declared.

  “Akka, don’t.” Mala suppressed a smile.

  “Oh, yeah?” Niresh grinned, knowing this was his punishment. “What?”

  “Kassanava. It’s Sri Lankan for ‘Casanova’.”

  The girls giggled and even Amrith couldn’t help smiling. “Kassanava” meant “an irritating itch.”

  Niresh grinned gamely and bowed to concede that he accepted this nickname as penance. And now the air was cleared between them.

  “So, I hear you’re both big fans of Shaun Cassidy,” Niresh said. “I think he’s amazing, too.”

  “You do?” Selvi hugged her books to her chest, thrilled to meet a fellow devotee.

  “Yeah, sure.” Niresh nodded with great enthusiasm, his hair bouncing up and down.

  Amrith was, as always, astonished at how smoothly his cousin lied. He had made a gagging noise when Amrith mentioned Shaun Cassidy.

  “He’s super popular in Canada,” Niresh continued. “I’ve met Shaun in person.” His chest expanded. “He was signing records at this store downtown and I went and lined up and got my record autographed.”
r />   “You met him in person?” the girls cried.

  “Yeah, sure. I stood with him and had my photo taken. He’s such a cool guy. He even put his arm around my shoulder when they were taking the photo.”

  Selvi and Mala were in awe. The possibility of them ever meeting Shaun Cassidy was nonexistent. And here Niresh had actually been touched by the star.

  “Have you seen The Hardy Boys Mysteries on TV?” Niresh asked.

  “You have seen Hardy Boys!” Selvi sighed.

  “We’re dying to see it,” Mala added, “but we’ll never get it here until we’re probably twenty.”

  “It was great. Everyone in Canada was watching it. Do you know Shaun Cassidy’s going to be in a new series, this fall?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s called Breaking Away.” He began to tell Selvi and Mala whatever little he knew about it. They listened, eating up every word.

  Amrith was beginning to feel annoyed at the way his sisters were monopolizing Niresh and he was glad to see Aunty Bundle come out into the courtyard.

  “Girls, girls,” she called to them, “let’s get along.”

  Selvi and Mala followed their mother reluctantly.

  The moment their backs were turned, Niresh winked at Amrith.

  He grinned back, feeling his resentment disappear. “Selvi’s probably going to tell her friends about you the moment she gets to tuition,” he said in an undertone, as they smiled and waved to the girls while the car reversed onto the road.

  “Are her friends good-looking?” Niresh asked.

  “Yuk, no.”

  “Real dogs, eh?”

  “Yeah, real dogs.”

  Once the car left, Amrith led Niresh into the house to get him a drink. As they went across the living room, he told his cousin how he referred to Selvi’s friends as the SNOTs.

  Niresh roared and gave Amrith a mighty clap on his back to show his approval.

  In the pantry, as Amrith poured out a glass of thambili, Niresh asked, his head to one side, “So your sisters really don’t have boyfriends?”

  Amrith shook his head.

  Niresh frowned as he pondered this. Amrith could not tell if his cousin agreed or not with the rule.

  After they had finished their drinks, Amrith gave Niresh a tour of the house, trailed by Eva, Zsa Zsa, and Magda.

  Their house had, of course, been built by Lucien Lindamulagé. He often brought architecture students over to show them the house. Amrith had heard the architect’s tour often and knew the features of the house well. As he took his cousin around, he pointed out how the house was modeled on precolonial homes — that unlike Western architecture, the rooms opened into each other and out to the gardens and courtyard, to allow for the maximum flow of air, thus keeping the house cool; the way one could stand anywhere and there would be a sense of vistas opening up all around, the darkness of interiors contrasting with the brightness of exteriors; the way Amrith’s room was entered from a door in what seemed the boundary wall but, instead, led to new quarters — a representation of the women’s quarters, the zenana, with its secluded walled garden. He showed Niresh the century-old doors and windows that Lucien Lindamulagé had scoured the country to find. Amrith pointed out how, above each window, there was a rectangle of intricately carved wood latticework, known as a mal lallie, which let in cool air even when the window was closed.

  He led Niresh up to the terrace and his cousin’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the aviary. When Amrith told him it was his birthday gift, Niresh shook his head and said, with a laugh, “Man, you’re spoilt.” He took Niresh inside so he could feed Kuveni a piece of mango.

  Jane-Nona made her famous crab curry in honor of Niresh’s visit, with her own combination of roasted spices ground into a paste, coconut milk, murunga leaves, and tamarind to give it a nice tang. Aunty Bundle and Uncle Lucky showed Niresh how to eat the crabs using his teeth to break the softer parts of the shell, how to suck out the flesh from the legs.

  For a while they were silent, enjoying the crabs, then the girls began to ply Niresh with questions about Canada. Had he eaten at McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken? Did the burgers and fries and milkshakes and chicken and coleslaw taste as extraordinarily delicious as they had heard and read? They had not received replies to the questions they had sent through Amrith, and so they asked Niresh if he had seen A Little Romance. Did he go to a school that had both boys and girls in it? Did people have their own personal lockers in his school? Go to proms? Drive cars? Go on dates to movies?

  Amrith could tell his cousin was surprised by their fascination with mundane things. Yet, he gamely answered their questions with great seriousness and, after a while, Amrith got the distinct feeling that his cousin had begun to exaggerate the glamor of Canada. He wondered, for the first time, if everything his cousin said about Canada was true.

  Niresh was on his best behavior with Aunty Bundle and Uncle Lucky, but he relaxed enough to start calling them Aunty and Uncle.

  While they were having dessert, Selvi asked Niresh if he would like to come to the club that afternoon for a swim. His cousin was keen and so Amrith had to agree, even though he did not want to go. Selvi’s friends were probably going to be there. Niresh would be even more monopolized.

  Mala was not joining them as she had to visit the tailor and be measured for her party dress.

  On the way to the club, Selvi taught Niresh how to say, “hello, how are you,” in Sinhalese. Mama loku gembek. She wanted him to greet her friends this way.

  What she was really teaching him was, “I am a big frog.”

  Amrith was beginning to read his cousin — when his eyes were particularly wide with innocence, he was usually lying or leading someone on. Niresh knew he was not learning a Sinhalese greeting. Yet, he attempted the phrase over and over again, with great sincerity, as if keen to get it right.

  He treated Selvi to a joke — “What do you get when you cross an ostrich with a Big Mac? A bird that buries its head in a sandwich.” He roared at his own wit, not noticing that Selvi looked at him a little askance.

  The Lord Louis Mountbatten Club was a white-stuccoed building with a pillared portico and magenta bougainvilleas climbing up its walls. It had been White Only until about twenty years ago. Even after Independence, it had remained restricted for a while, and any white sailor in town, no matter how low his rank, could get a locker at the club, while even the prime minister was not allowed to enter. Now, most of its members were Sri Lankan.

  Once the car had dropped them off, Amrith signed his cousin in and led Niresh through the building, with its high ceilings and arches. A series of French windows opened out onto a terrace, with rattan chairs and wrought iron tables on it. His cousin seemed impressed by the club with its liveried waiters who rushed back and forth.

  Selvi was hurrying ahead of them, down the steps that led to the garden and the swimming pool. The SNOTs, on seeing Selvi, leapt up from their lounging chairs and looked eagerly past her for the cousin from abroad.

  “Let’s go check out the babes.” Niresh grinned at Amrith.

  Amrith smiled thinly. All through lunch and in the car ride here, he had barely had a chance to say a word to Niresh.

  As they walked through the garden, Selvi’s friends adjusted their clothing nervously. They had taken extra trouble with their hair, and even wore a bit of makeup.

  “Now, Niresh,” Selvi commanded, “say hello to my friends in Sinhalese.”

  With sincere goodwill, he offered his hand to one of them. “Mama loku gembek.”

  The girls shrieked so loudly that people on the terrace turned to look at them. They began to laugh, holding on to each other, saying “mama loku gembek,” over and over again, all the time giving Niresh little covert glances. It was clear they found him, if not handsome, at least glamorous for being from abroad.

  Niresh winked at Amrith. The joke was on the girls.

  Niresh and Amrith already had their swimsuits on and they went to the men’s room t
o take off their clothes and hang them up.

  When they came back to the pool, the girls were still changing. Niresh gestured towards a pillar not far from the pool. They hid behind it and grinned at each other.

  Selvi and her friends came out in their bathing suits. They stood at the edge of the pool. Niresh gave Amrith a signal and, yelling at the top of their lungs, they rushed at the girls, who spun around shrieking. They cried out as they were pushed in, then wailed, coughed up water, and berated the boys. Amrith and Niresh leapt in after them, making them shriek all over again.

  Soon a water fight was in progress, Amrith and Niresh trying to swim underwater and grab their legs, the girls kicking out and splashing them as they tried to escape. All of them were reveling in a game they knew they were too old to be playing.

  They got raucous and Nandasena and Mrs. Kuruvilla, the attendants at the men’s and women’s change rooms, came down to tell them to be quiet or they would complain to their parents. The generosity of their tips and New Year gifts depended on their making sure decorum was maintained when the parents were absent.

  Niresh broke away from the girls. He signaled to Amrith and they swam to the deep end. They clung to the side rail. Niresh shook the hair out of his eyes. “Man, I really need a smoke.”

  He and Amrith went off to the change room. They wiped down their bodies, grabbed their T-shirts, and Niresh put a packet of cigarettes into his pocket.

  There was a shed in one corner, where the pool cleaning equipment was kept. They slipped into the narrow space between it and the parapet wall. Niresh lit a cigarette, drew on it hungrily, and breathed out a long stuttering breath.

  “Boo!” Selvi and her friends stood staring at them.

  “Shit.” Niresh hid his cigarette behind his back.

  “Give us a puff,” Selvi said, holding out her hand.

  “No way.”

  “Yes way. Otherwise I’m telling my parents you made Amrith smoke.”

  After a moment, Niresh grinned, knowing he was defeated. He held the cigarette out. Selvi drew on it and immediately began to cough, bending over and clutching her chest.