by Saumya Dave
Deepak puts his arms around Natasha. “You look great, beta.”
“Thank you.” Natasha gulps her wine and gives Bina a see-I-told-you type of smile. Looping Deepak into her woes has been her daddy’s-girl tactic since she was a toddler.
Deepak extends his arms and motions for Bina to come closer. Bina’s shoulders drop. Even if she and Natasha find a way to disagree on, well, everything, something about being in her presence just feels so familiar, so comforting.
Natasha rests her head on Bina’s shoulder. “So, Mom, on more important topics, it looks like Chand Uncle is already revved up for the dancing part of the night.”
Bina, Natasha, and Deepak turn to the entrance of the cocktail-hour space, where Mira’s husband is at least three beers deep and showing off his disco moves to a small audience of family friends that includes Kavita, who is uploading a video of Chand’s dancing to Instagram. Chand and Mira will be on many Instagram accounts tonight. They both dominate dance floors at Atlanta wedding receptions and alternate from classic Bollywood moves to a middle-aged version of swing dancing to even the tango.
“Hey, can we join in this group hug?” Zack asks as he and Suhani approach them. They’re both holding glasses of champagne and, as always, are dressed better than the bride and groom. Zack’s in a custom-fitted light gray suit that’s perfect for the balmy weather and Suhani is in a bright-pink-and-gold Anita Dongre lehenga. She’s paired the shimmery skirt and top with a gold choker and bulbous gold earrings. Bina notices a cluster of women gazing at Suhani with equal parts awe and approval. Many of them know and love Zack, but the ones who don’t give him a double take, a common reaction to seeing a white guy so at home among a sea of Indian people. It’s especially entertaining when they hear him speaking in Gujarati.
Out of the corner of Bina’s eye, she sees Suhani reach for Zack’s hand. Zack shifts to face her. His jaw is clenched. Suhani mouths, I’m really sorry. Zack shakes his head, then says I’m sorry back. He looks up and locks eyes with Bina, whose gaze is clearly fixed on them. Shit. Bina turns away quickly and pretends to be lost in the conversation between Deepak and Natasha. The last thing she needs is for Zack to think she’s a nosy mother-in-law. She had a nosy mother-in-law whose meddling made Bina often want to punch a wall.
“Anuj! Get over here.” Zack gives Bina a big grin as if to reassure her that everything is fine.
Anuj asks someone to hold his spot in the bar line and stands next to Bina. They have a collective group hug, the kind they haven’t shared since Suhani and Zack’s wedding.
My family, Bina thinks with a flash of pride. Her people are here. She’ll be okay enough.
“How nice to see you all together!” Jiten’s voice interrupts the moment. Deepak gives him a cheery “Good to see you,” the kind that would make anyone observing them think that they’re still best friends and that their wives still talk every day. Bina isn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused that men can have such simple and surface-level friendships, ones that rarely lead to conflict.
A knot of dread forms in her stomach as she sees Anita and Karan standing behind Jiten. Anita stares at the ground while Karan’s gaze goes straight to Natasha. Bina feels the weight of sadness settle over her. It’s unnatural to not run toward Anita and hug her, tell her how wonderful it is to see her.
“Hey,” Natasha says to Karan.
Go, Natasha! Bina’s proud of her daughter for not letting the sheer awkwardness push her into silence, the way it has for Bina.
“Hello,” Karan says.
“How are you? What have you been up to?”
“Just the usual.” Karan’s curt in a way Bina has never seen in all the years she’s known him. Why couldn’t he and Natasha have worked things out? What was so bad that things had to end this way?
Bina forces herself to bury the questions as Natasha steps toward Karan.
“Just the usual? Are you really going to act like we don’t know each other?” Natasha’s eyes flash before she mutters, “That’s really mature.”
“Mature? Mature?” Karan asks. “You’re telling me about being mature? That’s rich!”
Everyone’s necks turn to Karan, then Natasha, then Karan again. It’s like they’re all watching a painful tennis match. A few wedding guests, including their elderly neighbors, slow down to take in every detail. Bina gives them a look that she hopes indicates there’s nothing to see here.
Natasha steps toward Karan again. “Maybe we can ta—”
“I’m going to grab a drink.” Karan cuts her off and makes a straight dash to the bar.
Bina gives Anita a forced, awkward laugh. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.” The sadness that was in Anita’s eyes at the health fair is still there, but today it’s submerged under a layer of regret. Her silver-streaked hair is pulled back in a low bun, and she’s wearing a silk olive-green sari. The expression on her face and her outfit suddenly make her look older, like the type of woman who has had a difficult life. Bina wants to ask her if she’s okay, if she’s been sleeping and taking care of her self.
Talk to me, Bina wants to say. I’m here for you.
But Anita looks away as if she’s distracted by something on the purple carpet. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Bina understands how a friend can break your heart in a way nobody else can.
Anita nods and puts on a tight smile as she calls for Kavita, who is dipping a samosa in chutney. Bina can’t believe that in a matter of minutes, she, Anita, Kavita, and Mira will be sitting next to one another. For once she hopes the speeches and dance performances are long so she doesn’t have to make too much small talk.
When Anita walks away, Natasha frowns. “You know what? Screw them! All of them! Who do they think they are, acting like we’re strangers?”
“Natasha . . .” Deepak says in his strongest don’t-say-more tone.
“I know. I know,” Natasha says. “God forbid anyone here actually hears me telling it like it is, right?”
“Beta, maybe you should calm down,” Bina says.
And maybe you shouldn’t be drinking when you’re this easily riled up.
“You know what, Mom?” Natasha’s eyes are flashing. “I just don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Natasha stops talking as they’re approached by Pramila and Priya, twin sisters who married twin brothers and all live in a joint family household.
“Natasha, beta!” Pramila says. “We didn’t realize you were here.”
“We saw Karan over there,” Priya adds. “Can you believe you two are going to have an event like this soon?”
Bina clenches her fists. Natasha, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Actually, we won’t. Karan and I broke up.”
“What?” Pramila places a hand over a pearl pendant that Ma would have called gaudy.
“Yup. So we’re not getting married.”
Bina wants to bury her face in her hands. Deepak shoots her a look that says, Stay calm.
Pramila frowns. “I see. I’m sorry about that.”
“Thanks. But I’m good. I’ve accepted I’m probably not ever getting married.”
“Oh, you’re too funny,” Priya says. “You always have been!”
Natasha raises her now-empty wineglass. “I really appreciate that because I am a full-time comedian now.”
“A what?” Pramila cups her ear as if Natasha said I am running away to join the circus.
“I’m focusing on my real passion: comedy. Great, right?”
“Ah, well . . . of course it’s . . . fun.” Priya searches for the right word. “You are so cute.”
“Cute? That’s sweet. I’d hardly say I’m cute. I am, however, going to get more drunk. It was great to see you.”
Bina freezes. The nerve of that girl! She takes a deep breath and commands herself
to calm down as Natasha marches toward the bar, Anuj trailing behind her.
Pramila and Priya are pretending to be busy eating kathi rolls. But the shock in their eyes is clear.
A flush fills Bina’s cheeks as she stammers, “What Natasha meant is, she’s enjoying her time here.”
“Of course.” Pramila nods out of pure politeness.
When they leave, Zack hugs Bina and says, “Wooo! It’s never boring with my family.”
“That’s one way to say it,” Bina says. Waves of humiliation crash over her. Why would Natasha speak this way? She knows how embarrassing it is. Didn’t Bina teach her better?
“Suhani, can you go reason with her, please?” Bina asks.
Suhani nods. “She’s just upset. She needs some space.”
“All we give her is space!” Bina lowers her voice in case any more random people happen to learn about the inner workings of their family.
“By space, I mean a little understanding,” Suhani says. “Maybe we should let her be and, I don’t know, you can go talk to Mira Auntie and Kavita Auntie?”
“I will be talking to them,” Bina says. “We’re at the same table, with Anita.”
“Wait, Mom.” A look of recognition passes over Suhani’s face. “Did you not ever have your Chats Over Chai meeting?”
“No. I’m letting that go.” Bina shakes her head. “It’s not going to work out.”
“Why not?”
“Because it just isn’t.” Bina sighs.
“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?” Suhani raises her eyebrows, sounding more like the mother questioning her daughter.
Bina nods. “It was silly anyway, to think of starting something new when I’m so old. That type of thing is for you youngsters. I don’t even know why I got so carried away with it in the first place.”
“I completely disagree,” Suhani says as she drains her champagne. “You’re in a way better position to start something like this compared to any of us.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you’ve been through more. You have more perspective, more experience, more everything. I think you just need to see that about yourself, too.”
“Oh, please.” Bina waves her hand. “You make me seem so capable. I’m just a wife and mother. Nothing special.”
Bina hopes that Suhani can’t sense her dismay. She had waited for this period of her life, when her kids were grown up, and she could pursue other things. But that plan wasn’t meant for her. And sooner or later, she needs to accept her life’s limits. Disappointment is like any other chronic condition; after a point, you learn to live with it.
“That’s not true at all,” Suhani says. Bina waits for her to argue but Suhani gives her a quick hug and says, “Just think about what I said, okay? I’m going to go find Natasha.”
A minute later, Bina sees Suhani and Natasha hunched over their phones, then laughing with Kavita’s daughter, Sonam, and her boyfriend, Sanjay. Mira’s daughter, Pooja, is behind them uploading a selfie. Anuj and Zack join them a few seconds later.
Bina’s about to look away, but then she sees it again. Suhani reaching for Zack, but this time, Zack brushing her hand, then stepping away from her.
Just as she’s about to text Suhani to ask if everything is okay, the deejay announces that cocktail hour is over and it’s time for everyone to sit down. Anita, Kavita, and Mira are already at the table with their husbands. She can fake a happy smile when she sits next to them. She can fake so many things.
Mira is studying (translation: judging) the white hydrangea and orchid centerpieces. She turns to Chand and pretends to whisper, “I hate it when these young brides and grooms have their friends make so many speeches. We did it right in India. Food, dancing, social time. What these kids here don’t realize is that none of us care if the bride likes cupcakes or the groom likes football! We just need to talk to each other.”
Deepak squeezes Bina’s hand and whispers, “It’ll be fine.” Bina braces herself for an evening of superficial, civil conversation.
But before she even reaches her chair, one on the opposite side of the table from Anita, Mira yells, “Bina! I can’t wait for the next Chats Over Chai meeting!”
“What?” Bina asks, confused.
“Next weekend! I’m so sorry we couldn’t make it to the first one.”
Bina’s not sure if it’s boldness or exhaustion, but she blurts, “Because you were busy at Anita’s?”
Mira’s taken aback. She glances at Anita, who is busy talking to Jiten. “Yes, we were there. But because she was really having a hard time. Not because we don’t care about you.”
“You still could have told me,” Bina says. “We’ve known each other for how long? We shouldn’t have to lie to each other like that. I understand it’s hard being caught between two of your friends, but there should still be room for honesty.”
“You’re right.” Mira takes a deep breath. “We should have told you. I’m sorry.”
Bina feels a weight lift. “It’s okay.” And to her surprise, it really does feel okay. Her daughters were right. Putting things out there in the open was much better than holding them inside herself.
“But this entire plan you have, to build a women’s community, and do something just for us . . . it sounds amazing, Bina. I hope I can get off the waitlist!”
“Waitlist? What are you talking about?”
“The Instagram post all your kids just put up!” Mira holds up her phone. A black-and-white photo of Bina is on her screen. Anuj had taken the photo on his iPhone last year while Bina was cooking. The afternoon light is coating Bina’s cheeks and chin as she’s staring into the distance. A stack of rotlis and a wooden rolling pin are next to her hands.
“They what?” Bina grabs Mira’s phone. There’s a caption under her photo: Our mom is a true inspiration. Many people know her for her warmth and ease with people, how she can become friends with anyone. Others know how she’s always giving back to our community. But above all, our mom is a creator. And with her newest initiative, Chats Over Chai, she’s creating a safe space for women to come together every month and connect on the various things going on in their lives. The first meeting is next weekend. DM if you’d like to be added to the waitlist!
“I, uh, don’t know what to say. . . .” Bina scrolls through the dozens of comments. Why would the kids do this without telling her?
“Say I’m off of the waitlist!” Mira yelps.
“Sure,” Bina says. Mira motions to Kavita.
“What’s going on?” Bipin, Kavita’s husband, asks.
Everyone at their table faces Bina. “I’ve had this idea for us ladies to get together and talk about the things that are bothering us, really talk.”
“Don’t you all talk all the time anyway?” Bipin asks.
“Sure, we socialize. But I want us to dig deep into certain issues that are affecting all of us. We all have this need to make things look so polished and perfect on the surface. And I’m learning that it’s really unhealthy. We have to start learning to be honest and open about the things we sweep under the rug.”
“I don’t know if we need to just air out our private lives for everyone,” Anita says. Even though her lips are stretched into a smile, Bina notices a tightness in her friend’s jaw.
“Actually, I think we sometimes do,” Bina says.
“LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE FATHER OF THE BRIDE!” the deejay booms into the microphone. Everyone claps and cheers.
Before the next speech, Bina lowers her voice and says, “When I was growing up, all I knew was that I was supposed to sacrifice and take care of others, that that was my role. The first time Suhani told me about boundaries, I asked her, ‘What do you mean by boundaries?’ Nobody in India teaches girls about boundaries. And it occurred to me, as Deepak and I were driving here, that if we can talk to each other, all of us, w
e can learn. We can learn from our kids’ lessons, their mistakes, and, you know, from each other. . . .”
She trails off as she sees Mira and Kavita nod with interest.
But Kavita’s husband, Bipin, frowns. “There’s no need for something like that.”
“Well, it’d just be a women’s group,” Bina says. “And actually, Bipin, I was going to ask you if there’s a way we can get a story about it in Samachar in America.”
“I think it sounds great,” Deepak chimes in.
Chand nods and takes a sip of wine. There’s no doubt that he’ll be cut off from any further drinking before the reception even starts.
“I understand what you’re saying, but this really doesn’t sound like the best use of everyone’s time,” Bipin says.
“What?” Bina keeps her voice firm. “Why not?”
She waits for Bipin to respond, but to her surprise, Anita says, “We have so many opportunities to meet and have fun together. I don’t know if we need another one.”
Bina knows she should just let it slide. She should smile and nod politely and move on. They are at a wedding reception, after all.
But something tells her not to back down. Maybe it’s a combination of Deepak’s faith in her, the residue of what happened with Anita, and something bigger, something with force.
“We do need another one,” Bina says. “It’s important for us to stop coming together just to talk about recipes and celebrity gossip. That’s all fun and fine, but we need more. And why are we just there for each other for all those happy milestones—babies, weddings, anniversary parties?”
Bina hadn’t actually thought of that point until now, but when the words leave her, she knows how true they are. “We need to also support each other through our embarrassments and frustrations, our victories.”
“Bina, no.” Anita drops her fork and knife onto her plate. The clink echoes through the hall.
Bina processes the moment as a blur, a hazy collection of sounds and colors, as her best friend’s words sink in.
“Anita.” She keeps her composure. “Do you think you should calm down?”
