Monsoon Memories

by Renita D'Silva

  Preeti reached across and laid her hand on Deepak’s. ‘She sounded so distressed, Deepak. So unlike herself.’

  The sniffling. Aunt Anita didn’t have a cold. She had been crying.

  ‘Divorce. How could she even think about it? After everything that’s happened…’ Deepak ran his fingers through his hair.

  An image of Mrs. Gupta, her button eyes bulging, ranting on about the pathetic decline of Indian morals flashed before her eyes. The cloying scent of rasagullas mixed with the spicy smell of congealing mutton curry rose to her nostrils, making her uncomfortably aware of her heavy stomach, too full of pulao and mithai and noodles.

  ‘I didn’t know anything was wrong. Last time I spoke to her, she and Uttam seemed so happy and were planning so many things together. Mind you, that was a year ago...’ Preeti sighed. ‘I should have called her. But you know how it is; you blink and a year’s flown by...’

  ‘This will be the last straw for Ma… She’s already so fragile…Whatever happens, we should try and keep it from her. Reena, when you talk to Mai, not a word, okay? Don’t even mention that Aunt Anita is staying with us.’

  ‘Okay.’ Reena nodded her assent vigorously.

  Preeti laid a hand on his arm. ‘Deepak, Anu’s in a state. She’s turned to you for comfort. Be nice to her. No lectures about how she’s destroying the family name—promise?’

  ‘I’ll try.’ Deepak looked sheepish.

  Preeti’s voice, tentative: ‘Family name, honour… It doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does, Deepak. People will talk for a bit, and then forget, move on to the next thing…’

  Bang. Deepak brought his hand down on the table, hard, making the dishes clatter, the congealing curry spill. ‘It does to me. To Ma. In Taipur, it is a big deal. We, the Diaz family, are a big deal. You know that, Preeti. We cannot allow anything to sully our name. Not a whisper of a rumour. Nothing. As it is, Anu caused enough talk, insisting on marrying Uttam, upsetting Ma, reducing her to half of what she was, leaving her open to insults and barbs. Anita took after Ma, they said. Da married beneath him, they said. Do you know what it did to Ma, being voted out of the parish council committee when Anu married Uttam? She doesn’t show it, just holds her head up high. But I know… I know… And now…’ He laid his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, what a mess...’

  From where she was sitting, Reena could see the top of her father’s head, and it shocked her to find a little bald patch around his crown. ‘What does it mean to marry beneath you?’ she asked.

  Her dad looked up at her, eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he was going to fob her off. Then, he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘You are growing up; you need to know,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Preeti? Shall we tell her Mai’s story?’

  Her mother nodded.

  ‘Come, sit here,’ her dad said, patting the chair beside him. ‘Your Mai’s father was an alcoholic, her mother a shrew. Her family was the laughing stock of the whole village. Her father used to drink and sleep on the street. When she was ten, a bus ran over him. Her mother was so grief-stricken that she went mad, literally lost her mind. Your Mai had to grow up in a convent.’ Her dad paused to take a breath.

  Poor Mai, thought Reena. To lose her parents like that when she was just a year younger than Reena; to be sent to live in a convent, of all places!

  ‘The nuns kept bees and used to sell honey, the sweetest honey in all of Mangalore,’ continued her dad with a faraway look in his eyes. ‘Your Ab saw your Mai when he went to buy honey and fell in love with her. His parents were not happy with his choice as his family was one of the oldest and most revered in Taipur. They wanted him to marry a girl from a good family and not Mai. They thought he was marrying beneath himself—you understand?’ Her father’s eyes met hers. She nodded.

  ‘For your Mai, this was the best thing that had ever happened in her life. She had found respectability. She vowed that she would never do anything that would sully the name of Taipur Diaz; that her family would be the pillars of society.’ Her dad smiled gently at her. ‘And that is why status is so very important to your Mai.’

  This close up, Reena could see the dark circles under his eyes. ‘And why is it so important to you, Dad?’

  ‘I love your Mai,’ he said simply. ‘I do not want to see her hurt. She has suffered enough in her life. If status is what matters to her, then status is what I will strive for.’

  Her dad sometimes spoke like a character in a book, thought Reena.

  Preeti reached across and stroked Deepak’s arm. ‘Ma won’t find out about Anita wanting a divorce, Deepak. This is Bangalore, not Taipur. News doesn’t get around as quickly. And these legal proceedings, they take so long anyway. It will be a couple of years before they are divorced. Anything can happen by then. They may decide not to get divorced at all.’

  Deepak looked up. ‘You think? Maybe once she has calmed down...’

  ‘When she comes here I’ll have a chat with her, find out if she still loves Uttam. She must do. It must have been a lovers’ tiff, strong words exchanged. The word divorce would have been bandied about. You know how fiery Anita is, how proud. Things must have ballooned out of proportion...’ When her mother put it like that, Reena could almost believe the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

  Her father seemed to think so too. He reached across and gave her mother a hug. With his other arm he pulled Reena close.

  ‘I am lucky to have you, you know,’ he murmured.

  ‘You are,’ smiled Preeti, ‘Well, there’s a lot to be done before she arrives. Spare room to be made ready, sheets to be washed, excuses to be thought of to give nosy Nupur next door before she starts spreading rumours. Bedtime for all, I think.’

  As Reena walked to her room, she heard her dad whisper, ‘Thank you, Preeti. You are so special.’ She turned just in time to see her mother blush before she disappeared into her dad’s bear hug. At least, she thought, her mum and dad were not in danger of divorcing any time soon.

  UPDATE: Aunt Anita’s love marriage caused a huge furore. But she wasn’t expelled from the family, she wasn’t forgotten. So what did Shirin do that was even worse than marrying a Hindu? (NOTE: Word ‘furore’ which sounds like something a lion would make, copied from the new Thesaurus—eleventh birthday present. Eugene Ma’am, this detective’s English teacher, who’s always urging this detective to use different, better words, will be pleasantly surprised when she slips this word into her next essay.)

  Plan C: Find Aunt Anita and ask her about Aunt Shirin. Find Aunt Anita—Achieved. (She’s coming here!) Ask about Aunt Shirin: See below.

  Next Stage(s): Show Aunt Anita the picture and ask her about Aunt Shirin. Find cause of rift and try to fix it. Reunite Aunt Shirin with family, especially niece who was instrumental in bringing about the reunion. Hitch: Aunt Anita may not be in the mood to answer questions, on account of wanting to divorce Uncle Uttam. Note: Proceed with caution taking into account Aunt Anita’s fragile emotional state.

  She dreamt of a little girl in pigtails with mournful eyes and a face that Reena shared. The girl hovered in a corner, scared, covering her ears with the palms of her hands, as a couple argued relentlessly beside her. The couple was Aunt Anita and Uncle Uttam and they were shouting at each other, hurling insults. Suddenly, Aunt Anita turned and the girl realised it was not Aunt Anita at all, but a monster with gleaming eyes and a mouth that breathed fire. The girl screamed and screamed...

  ‘Shh... Reena, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s all right, sweetheart...’ She was being enveloped in her mother’s arms; a warm, safe haven, soft as cotton candy. Her mother smelled of the sandalwood talcum powder she smothered herself in after her shower every night. Her hair was loose, messy. The bindi that she had worn last night and forgotten to remove was awry on her forehead. She was wearing her favourite housecoat,
a canary yellow one with faded blue flowers. Reena snuggled deeper into her arms. She wished she could stay there forever, but already she didn’t fit as neatly as she had the last time she had had a nightmare, and at the thought, the sobs which had died down to hiccups started afresh.

  ‘Shh... Rinu, it’s all right, shh...’

  ‘Mum,’ between hiccups, ‘will you sleep here tonight?’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart. I’m here, right next to you, okay? Shall I sing you a lullaby?’

  ‘No,’ Reena interjected quickly.

  She felt her mother grin as she settled down beside her. ‘Surely I can’t be that bad? When you were a baby you quite liked my lullabies’

  Reena smiled despite her tears. ‘I used to fall asleep as quickly as possible just to escape having to listen to your singing efforts.’

  ‘That settles it then,’ her mother laughed, ‘Sa Re Ga Ma...’

  ‘Preeti, stop that,’ shouted Deepak from the other room. ‘Can’t a man get some peace in his own house, without having to endure his tuneless wife break into song in the middle of the night?’

  ‘That’s it. You’ve hurt my feelings, you two. From now on, even if you beg me to sing, I won’t.’

  ‘There is a God!’ sang Deepak. ‘Goodnight.’

  Reena’s sobs dissolved into giggles and she fell asleep in the warm cocoon of her mother’s embrace.

  The next afternoon, Bangalore experienced freak thunderstorms which caused havoc in the city and perplexed the weathermen.

  And Aunt Anita arrived.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Blue-Tinged Shadow

  ‘Shirin, do you have a minute? Marie wants a word.’ Kate was businesslike, preoccupied.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ A shiver of apprehension tickled Shirin’s spine. Marie was Kate’s boss, the deputy head of Utilities, the division they all worked for. She was the one who had handled the issue with Ian.

  ‘Come to the boardroom when you are ready.’ With a little smile and a wink meant to reassure her, Kate was gone.

  Was this because she had rushed home after lunch yesterday, taken the afternoon off? It couldn’t be. She had emailed the Tanner document to Kate first thing this morning. If Kate was annoyed she would have told Shirin herself. She was upfront in dealing with her team. And Marie wouldn’t be involved in something as trivial as this, would she? Why was Marie involved?

  Shirin smoothed her shirt to rid it of doughnut crumbs, tried futilely to rub away the jam stain in the shape of North America on the right knee of her black trousers, picked up a notebook and pencil and made her way to the boardroom.

  ‘You in trouble, then?’ Rob asked as she passed his desk, grinning vampire-like as he bit into an obscenely shiny apple. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed.’

  ‘He fancies you, you know,’ Kate had said to her once.

  ‘Who—Rob?’ she’d asked, a surprised giggled erupting. They were sitting in a café, having a late lunch, celebrating a release that had gone particularly well. The smell of coffee wafted, rich, warm, and Shirin was assaulted by a sudden memory: she and her mother by the roadside shack near Mangalore Bus Station, the man pouring hot sloshing coffee from a great height into their two tiny tumblers. She had swallowed hers in two gulps. It was very sweet and very hot and had scalded her tongue. She had yelped, jumping up and down, gasping and fanning her open mouth with her hands and her mother had said, ‘You look just like Rex,’ and laughed—that rare magical waterfall of a laugh.

  ‘Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you? Don’t you notice these things, Shirin?’ Kate had asked, genuinely curious. ‘Don’t you ever see a man and go, “Ooh, I fancy you”? Aren’t you ever tempted? You and Vinod have been together so long… Back when Dave and I were an item, there were times when I…’

  She’d thought of the tingle she got sometimes when someone looked at her a certain way; when she caught a glimpse of eyes, bespectacled and serious; the feelings a certain smell—lemony musk—aroused in her… and the guilt that engulfed her almost immediately. The impulse, so deeply embedded from childhood to rush to confession, the desire for absolution—even though she hadn’t been to church in years. ‘I am, sometimes.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Kate had breathed, grinning, ‘You are human after all.’ And then, her expression serious, ‘Would you… you know, leave Vinod? If someone came along, swept you off your feet?’

  She’d thought of a different time, a different girl. Younger. Before. The fantasies she’d had, of Chandru the coconut picker, of the boatmen with their gleaming bodies, of Prince Charming whisking her off into the sunset. And then she’d thought of Vinod. His kind face. That smile. ‘I couldn’t do it, Kate. Not to Vinod.’

  ‘Yes. But you wouldn’t be thinking rationally, would you, in the throes of passion? You wouldn’t be thinking of Vinod at all…’ Kate had persisted.

  Wet bodies flattened against the wall, standing side by side, not quite touching. The rain; a wavy curtain in the flickering half light of lamps. The drum roll of thunder. The power cut. Darkness thick as tamarind paste. Their breath punctuating the heady silence: in out, in out, in unison. A burst of laughter, a snatch of conversation drifting toward them on the mango-scented breeze. His face illuminated in a sudden flash of lightning. Very close. ‘Run away with me.’ Guilt. Shame. Vinod. Vinod washing her ever so gently that terrible evening, his tears falling like rain… ‘I love Vinod, Kate.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate had smiled softly. ‘And anyway, Vinod’s a hundred times better looking than Rob.’

  Kate and Marie were already seated when she entered, heads together, poring over one of the many sheets of paper spread haphazardly along the length of the table, designed to seat at least twelve.

  ‘Hello, Marie, Kate,’ she said.

  The bank of windows behind them framed cherry-blossom trees in glorious bloom; a furious burst of pink and white. Snatches of conversation from colleagues on their way to lunch drifted in.

  ‘Shirin,’ Marie stood and reached across the table to clasp Shirin’s hand.

  The tinny music heralding the lunch van followed by the customary two cheery honks on the horn sounded. Chairs scraped and desks were pushed aside as people ran downstairs to bag their favourite sandwich.

  ‘You’re looking well.’ Marie’s smile, behind her designer spectacles was stern.

  The shiver of apprehension ballooned. Was this something to do with the rumour of redundancies whispering through the company? Was she going first? I’ve worked so hard to get here. This is my identity; who I am now. Out loud, ‘Thank you. And you look great. As always.’

  That earned a proper smile. Even Marie—cropped grey hair, no-nonsense suit and uncompromising expression—was susceptible to compliments.

  ‘Now. I’ll get right down to business. You know Jay’s leaving next month?’

  Shirin nodded.

  ‘And that he was handling the CMS account, which is very critical to us?’

  ‘Yes,’ Shirin agreed. I’ll fight like hell to keep my job. She flashed a sidelong glance at Kate. Kate, head bent, copiously studying her notes, hair a red-gold curtain. Kate, what’s going on?

  ‘Well, I’ve talked to Kate—obviously—and to John Watts, whom you were reporting to briefly last November, and to a few of your colleagues. They have nothing but praise for you. All this I find very encouraging.’ Marie looked at Shirin over the top of her glasses, which had slid down to her nose, and Shirin was reminded of her mother putting down her newspaper and looking at her in much the same way one rainy Sunday afternoon aeons ago: ‘Have you been reading those books that clueless illiterate Duja in charge of the lending library lets you borrow?’ ‘No, Ma.’ ‘Then what put you in mind of devils possessing nuns to take over the church?’ ‘I’m sorry, Ma.’ ‘You should be; it’s blasphemy.’ Jacinta picking up the Udayavani, its pages
rustling, hiding her face; had there been a hint of a smile on her mother’s stern visage?

  Why on earth was she thinking of her mother now?

  ‘I have also taken the liberty of looking through your performance appraisals and talking to your staff manager,’ Marie continued, ‘and he agrees with me and Kate here, that you are ready for more responsibility and that you’ll handle it well.’

  What? Had she heard right? Out of the corner of her eyes, Shirin saw Kate smiling.

  ‘So, we would like you to take over Jay’s team and manage the CMS project.’ A long pause during which Marie looked straight at Shirin. ‘As you might be aware, it is an all-male team. Kate assures me that you will be fine, that there has been no repeat...’

  Ian’s accusation slunk into the room; hung there. A blue-tinged shadow. And Shirin was transported back nine years to a room just like this one in the Goodge Street office: Ian standing in one corner, she in the other, Kate beside her, Marie facing all of them. Marie, looking into Shirin’s eyes, as if she could read her mind: ‘Now, Shirin. With your permission, Kate has told me a bit about what happened to you. I can understand where you’re coming from.’ Marie had paused, turned her attention to Ian. ‘Ian, I can see where you’re coming from, too. If someone cringed every time they came near me, if they ducked away from me when I tried to talk to them, acted for all the world as if I was going to harass them, I would be frustrated and angry too. And it would affect the quality of my work.’ Another pause. ‘Shirin, you are hardworking, diligent. No one has issue with your work. But you will be working as part of a team and there will be men in your team, as explained in the contract you signed when you joined CST Solutions. I cannot have this issue every time you have to work with a member of the opposite sex.’ Shirin had wilted under her gaze. ‘And as for you, Ian, I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this. I’m moving you to John’s team with immediate effect.’ Marie had smiled at Ian then, a slight relaxation of her facial muscles, ‘I have reason to believe that you’ve been angling for this for a while.’ A nod at Shirin, ‘Can I speak to you privately for a minute?’ After Ian and Kate had left, she’d said, her gaze boring into Shirin, ‘Kate mentioned that you’ve had counselling before. I would suggest that you take a few weeks off work, go back for more intensive counselling sessions to deal with this issue you seem to have with certain men.’