What Maya Saw

by Shabnam Minwalla

  ‘Better than crows,’ Maya agreed.

  Mrs Anand served warm brownies topped with scoops of vanilla ice cream, and said, ‘Actually, I have a better idea. You won’t like it, Maya. But if it’s such an important assignment it may be worthwhile.’

  ‘What?’ Maya asked, digging into the chocolate brownie that her mother baked so perfectly. ‘This batch of brownies is really super. But what’s your idea?’

  ‘Mr Ranglani might know,’ her mother said. ‘He deals with houses all the way from Colaba to Dadar. I know he’s not your favourite person but he really knows the city. He’s helped me out on at least two occasions.’

  ‘Who’s Mr Ranglani?’ Lola asked.

  ‘He’s a bottle of Parachute Coconut Oil dressed in a suit,’ Maya snapped. ‘The man in the ground floor apartment who keeps trying to chat us up.’

  ‘He’s a real estate agent whom Maya dislikes,’ Mrs Anand said. ‘He has an office in our building.’

  ‘An ILLEGAL office in our building,’ Maya frowned. But she had to admit that her mother was right. Mr Ranglani just might know. He was the kind to slink his way through every crack and crevice in the city.

  Lola laughed. ‘Is he the permanently smiling owner of Relax Real Estate? The one in the pink shirts and tight suits? He seems very friendly.’

  ‘Yes,’ Maya admitted. ‘That’s the one. He’s not friendly. He just wants to sell you a house and get a fat slice of your savings for himself. But still, he might know about the Lakshmi statue. We can ask him, I guess.’

  Maya and Lola helped Mrs Anand clear the table, then galloped down the stairs, fuelled by brownie-energy. ‘I’m not sure how to do this,’ Maya grumbled. ‘I spend my whole life avoiding this man. Now we’re walking straight into his oleaginous clutches.’

  ‘Ooh, lovely word,’ Lola laughed. ‘You are so good for my vocab. And I am so good for your wardrobe.’

  Mr Ranglani was on the phone when the two girls peeked into his office, but his pudgy, beringed hand waved and fluttered and danced about and made it clear that the girls were most welcome. A minute later, Mr Ranglani ended his call and spoke in buttery tones. ‘Welcome, welcome to my humble office,’ he said, handing a card to Lola. ‘Why you don’t come in and make yourself comfortable? Take some tea?’

  ‘Thanks Uncle,’ Maya said curtly. ‘We just wanted to ask you one question.’

  ‘Uncle,’ Lola cut in smoothly, ‘we need to find something for our college assignment and Maya’s mother said that we should ask you. She said that nobody knows Mumbai like you do. She also said you are really helpful.’

  Mr Ranglani turned as pink as his favourite ice-cream mithai. He straightened his suit, patted his sweat-beaded forehead and preened. ‘So kind,’ he said, leaning out of the window. ‘But we are put on Earth to help only. How I can help you? I have seen houses, offices, shops in every gully from the Colaba to the Dadar. I am at your service.’

  ‘Uncle,’ Lola explained, ‘we are looking for a Lakshmi statue somewhere in Mumbai. This statue stands on a lotus, somewhere high. Not in a temple. In the open. We have to find it. Have you seen anything like it?’

  Mr Ranglani wrinkled his brow and stared into the distance. ‘Are you talking about statue in Fort?’ he asked.

  Maya and Lola held their breaths. ‘It could be,’ Maya said. ‘What is this statue? Where is it?’

  ‘You are sure you will not take tea?’ Mr Ranglani asked. ‘I can order onion pakoda also. Fresh they are frying.’

  ‘No thank you, uncle,’ Maya replied in a saccharine-sweet voice. ‘Can you tell us more about this statue please?’

  ‘There is Lakshmi Devi in Fort,’ Mr Ranglani said, reaching out for a dog-eared notebook and leafing through it. ‘On top of building. Right opposite office that I helped Mr Mehra to find three years ago. Yes, yes. Here it is. PM Road in Fort. Just go to the PM road, walk a little and look up. You will see her on top of one of buildings.’

  Mr Ranglani paused and, for a moment, his greasy smile dissolved into something more genuine. ‘The first time, I was also very surprise. She is very beautiful, standing there in middle of roofs and crowds. So spritual.’

  Maya and Lola thanked Mr Ranglani, but the businessman was determined to get his pound of information. ‘Where you stay?’ he asked Lola. ‘Ownership or rental?’

  ‘My family’s moving from Bangalore,’ Lola said, as Maya gave her a painful pinch.

  ‘You have found house?’ Mr Ranglani quivered with anticipation.

  ‘Not yet,’ Lola admitted. ‘My parents are coming after a month and will start looking then.’

  ‘I can show them both ownership and rental,’ Mr Ranglani switched to his sales patter. ‘You send them my card by WhatApp. I will find beautiful 2 BHK, 3 BHK even 4 BHK just next to your friend. There is a flat going in Prem Nivas only.’

  Lola made all the right noises, but Mr Ranglani was not fooled. He insisted that his card be photographed and dispatched to Lola’s parents instantly. Then he waved with his pudgy fingers as his visitors hurried away. After which he crunched his way through a plate of onion pakodas and wondered which building would best suit Lola’s family.

  ‘Something high-class in Colaba or Peddar Road,’ he decided, thumbing through a list on his gold Samsung. ‘That will suit.’

  CHAPTER 26

  Sir Phirozeshah Mehta Road was in a patch of the city that Maya knew well. Her mother shopped at Bombay Stores. Her father drooled over the Butter Garlic Crabs at Mahesh Lunch Home. She herself adored the apple pies at tiny, eccentric Yezdani Bakery.

  ‘I can’t understand how I’ve never noticed this statue. If it’s there at all,’ she said for the 20th time as the taxi dropped them at the mouth of the chaotic street. ‘That Ranglani is not to be trusted.’

  The girls walked past vendors selling earphones, radios shaped like bananas and envelopes adorned with roses. ‘I can’t see anything. Can you?’

  Lola just ploughed past the pedestrians till she reached a quieter stretch of pavement. Then she said, ‘Now. One, two three.’

  Both girls looked upwards and their hearts sank. All they could see were once-handsome buildings defaced with wires, corroded ACs and higgly-piggly hoardings. Then—without any drumrolls or drama—they spotted her.

  High above the buildings and bustle, on a pedestal made of stone, loomed a stone goddess. Lakshmi on a red lotus against the smog-blue sky.

  The Goddess was painted a milky cappuccino and exuded strength and serenity.

  ‘The Goddess of Wealth stands so high,’ Maya murmured, looking up with awe.

  ‘A lotus grand raises her to the sky

  She grants favours to the building below

  While I watch all those who come and go.’

  ‘She’s gorgeous,’ Lola said.

  ‘Hidden in plain sight,’ Maya agreed. ‘Somehow, I feel more positive about things now.’

  The two friends gazed at the goddess and then returned to the problem at hand. ‘What does the last line mean?’ Lola asked. ‘Who watches all those who come and go?’

  ‘Let’s cross the road so we can get a closer look at the building,’ Maya suggested, and they darted between the handcarts and cars that clogged the road. Seconds later, they stood at the entrance of Lakshmi Insurance Building where men with briefcases and women with files rushed in and out of a doorway leading to a dark, uninviting foyer festooned with cables.

  ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ Lola asked.

  Maya was about to reply when her eyes fell upon carvings on either side of the entrance. Two art deco stone elephants stood as silent sentinels at the busy doorway. ‘Elephants,’ she whispered, as her synapses zinged and fizzed and made connections. ‘The elephants watch all those who come and go.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lola said, sounding blank. ‘Elephant?’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Maya was almost jumping. ‘I don’t think I told you, but there was also an elephant on the Standard Chartered Building. On the shield. I thought the answer was Ind
ia. But the answer could have been Elephant as well. Sorry, I’m babbling. I’m not making sense.’

  ‘You’re not,’ Lola agreed. ‘So take like a deep breath—as they say in yoga—and start again.’

  ‘We can do better,’ Maya said, glancing at Lola’s brown wedge heels that matched her funky linen palazzos. ‘If you can manage a 10-minute walk you can see the Standard Chartered Building for yourself.’

  Lola looked down at the three-inch elevation. ‘I can manage 10 minutes,’ she said. ‘These are quite sensible by my standards. But maybe I should switch to flats till we’ve defeated those Shadows.’

  The familiar dread swamped Maya again. For a brief moment, she’d forgotten why she and Lola were rushing across the city solving clues. Again the taste of death filled her mouth.

  Lola sensed the change in mood and walked without chatter, past Gothic buildings and Flora atop her fountain, stone wreath in hand. Eight minutes later they were in position, sandwiched between yellow school buses and taxis, and trying not to inhale the urine-infused air.

  ‘There,’ Maya pointed to the buff-coloured stone building for the second time that day. ‘The statues of Britannia, India, China and Australia are right on top of the building. Then just below them, on the white triangular part, there’s a carved shield. Australia is represented by a sheep. China by a pagoda. India by—’

  ‘An elephant,’ Lola exclaimed. ‘You’re right!!!’

  ‘But what does it mean?’

  Lola shook her head. ‘Maybe we’ll figure it out at the Bhau Daji Lad Museum tomorrow. But well done, us. We clearly are the most gifted clue crackers in Mumbai.’

  ‘I jolly well hope so,’ Maya said as Lola’s phone beeped.

  Lola checked her message. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘It’s like already evening. I’ll message you at night. Byeee.’

  Lola hopped into a taxi, and Maya tumbled into another. Feeling exhausted but restless, she pulled out her phone and dialled Veda. No answer.

  Near Regal, she tried again. No answer.

  Half an hour later, after another long shower and glass of Appy Fizz, she tried yet again.

  This time, Veda answered. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Veda?’ Maya asked, surprised. ‘What happened? Are you fine?’

  ‘What do you care?’

  ‘What’s happened? Why’re you so upset? I have so much to tell you?’

  ‘Please. Stop pretending,’ Veda was shouting. ‘You make me sick.’

  ‘Can you please just tell me why you are so upset?’

  ‘I saw you … with … Aniruddh.’

  ‘Who?’ Maya was speechless.

  ‘Stop lying. I saw you with him.’

  ‘Who Is Aniruddh?’ Maya asked slowly and clearly. ‘I was with Lola, and we managed to crack the Goddess clue.’

  ‘Fine. Then you don’t need me anyway. You have your heehee haha friend. And you have Aniruddh. So what do you need me for?’

  ‘Veda. Who the hell is Aniruddh? I have no idea.’

  Veda took a long ragged breath. ‘Oh, so you go around kissing boys without even knowing their names?’

  ‘Oh,’ Maya said, as Veda’s fury began to make sense. ‘That. In the chapel. I wanted to tell you what happened. That … that … creature attacked me. He’s a Shadow. It was just horrible.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I’ve known Aniruddh for more than a year. He’s always been normal,’ Veda’s voice faltered. ‘You’re really disloyal. How can you do this to me?’

  Maya was silent for a moment. Scraps of that conversation between Veda and Amara in the Zoology lab—could it only have been five days ago—returned to her. Hadn’t they been talking about a boy named Aniruddh? Didn’t Veda have a crush on him?

  Maya felt chilled to the bone.

  Poor Veda. Imagine pushing open the chapel door and finding the boy of her dreams and her sort-of-friend in a clinch. No wonder Veda was freaking.

  ‘Say something,’ Veda yelled. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to explain yourself.’

  Maya used her most soothing, school-counsellor-type voice. ‘Veda, listen to me for a minute. I was waiting for you in the chapel when a boy entered. He was sitting on the pew and praying and I was looking at the saints. There was a horrible smell and I was trying to leave when he grabbed me …. and … and … Veda, he smelt like a dead body. I don’t know what I’d have done if Professor Charles Brown and Lola hadn’t come.’

  ‘Professor Charles Brown?’

  ‘That British professor who talked to us about the plague.’

  ‘I know who he is. I may be upset, but it doesn’t mean my brain has disintegrated,’ Veda said, sounding more like herself. ‘Did he see what happened to you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay,’ Veda sounded close to tears. ‘I still hate you. But tell me what you and your BFF discovered.’

  Maya wanted to comfort Veda, but she knew it would be as foolish as hugging a cactus. So instead she related the story of their quest for the Goddess on the Lotus. ‘Lola and I are meeting at the gate of the zoo at 10 a.m.,’ Maya said finally. ‘You’ll be there too, won’t you?’

  Veda hesitated for a moment, then said a grudging ‘Maybe’ and hung up.

  Maya tried to plunge into an essay. But her studious intentions flew out of the window when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Sanath. ‘You’ll be glad that I did my bank work today. All OK?’

  For the rest of the evening, the essay took a backseat to treacly songs.

  ‘Dear future husband,’ Maya sang with tuneless zest.

  ‘Here’s a few things

  You’ll need to know if you wanna be

  My one and only all my life’

  All of which was most Un-Maya-like.

  ‘Gosh,’ she thought. ‘Maybe I am becoming like other almost-15-year-olds. Not bad.’

  CHAPTER 27

  Maya had visited the zoo often as a child. She’d always avoided the monkeys and spent ages with the elephants.

  It seemed strange to return to the scene of those long ago picnics, which invariably ended in scraped knees, heat rashes and sticky accidents with orange popsicles. It seemed even stranger that she would not be visiting the gentle elephants and greedy deer.

  Byculla, with its flyovers, markets and rumbling trucks, was hardly the ideal location for a zoo. Once, though, it had sprawled on the lush outskirts of the city – never imagining that it would one day be the throbbing, smelly heart of the metropolis.

  A few metres away, a vendor spread a blue plastic sheet on the pavement and arranged a dazzling variety of keychains. Minion keychains and Angry Bird keychains. Religious keychains sporting Oms, Allahs and saints gazing devoutly towards the heavens.

  ‘Saints all over the place,’ Maya thought idly, and waved as Lola hopped out of a cab, dressed for a day of adventuring in jeans and pink sequined trainers.

  Lola bounced up to Maya and gave her a quick once-over. ‘We really need to go shoe-shopping,’ she said, frowning at the beige bellies. ‘But your denim skirt and white crop top look good. What’re we looking for? What’s the clue? Remind me.’

  Maya checked to make sure that no one was listening, and recited the third stanza in a low tone:

  ‘I spend my days with a consort and his queen

  And the history that Bombay has seen

  On a verdant island I once lived

  Before I was smashed to bits’

  ‘Okay. So we’re looking for something that lived on a verdant island before it was smashed to bits,’ Lola said. ‘Can’t be too many of those around. Come on, let’s go in. What’re we waiting for?’

  ‘Veda,’ Maya confessed.

  ‘Oh,’ Lola looked crushed.

  ‘I had to call her … I couldn’t leave her out …’

  ‘Totally. But she’s a bit scary.’

  ‘She’s not so bad actually,’ Maya said, managing to lie without a blush. ‘She was very upset when I spoke to her yesterday because she thought … Oh, ther
e she is.’

  Veda walked along the pavement, looking red-eyed and deflated. ‘Sorry I’m four minutes late,’ she said, looking at her wristwatch. ‘I had to wait a long time for the bus.’

  The unlikely threesome joined the wafer-munching families and straggling lines of schoolchildren and walked through the curly-swirly metal gates. But while the crowds headed in the direction of the turtles and crocodiles, the girls took a sharp left past manicured hedges and made their way to a modest colonial building. It was painted a greeny-grey, with white details. It had long, narrow windows and shallow steps that led up to the arched entrance.

  The Bhau Daji Lad Museum. Once the Victoria and Albert Museum.

  Maya was climbing the sun-drenched steps towards the ticket counter, and digging in her purse for a 500-rupee note, when she heard a sharp exclamation. She turned, and her jaw dropped.

  Veda was standing on the third step, pointing to a large stone figure on a patch of lawn in front of the museum. It was a bit disfigured, like something a child might fashion out of clay. But it was definitely an elephant.

  Lola joined her and, screwing up her eyes in the harsh light, read the plaque. ‘This stone elephant stood at the entrance of the Rajabunder Jetty of Gharapuri or Elephanta Islands. The elephant symbolised royalty as the Rajabunder jetty was used exclusively by the local Rajas. In 1864 the British attempted to carry the elephant back to England. The crane, however, broke and the elephant shattered into several pieces. The fragments were brought to the Victoria Garden and were reintegrated by Sir George Birdwood, the curator of the erstwhile Victoria and Albert Museum.’

  Maya spoke into the excited silence. ‘Verdant island. Smashed to bits. It all fits.’

  ‘The answer to all three clues is Elephant,’ Lola said slowly. ‘We’ve figured it out.’

  ‘Only, I still don’t understand what it all means,’ Veda protested, determined to play the part of a sopping wet blanket. ‘Do you?’

  ‘We’ll figure it out. Let’s get out of the sun and celebrate with a coffee,’ Lola declared, hipping and hopping down the stone steps. ‘We, the Magnificent Clue Cracking Sisters, will figure it out.’