After the Storm

by Lakshmy Ramanathan

  The woman looked too stunned to reply.

  ‘Don’t worry … I won’t run away with them,’ Meenu said with a laugh trying to lighten the situation. ‘There are five more people ahead. I am sure you’ll make it back by then.’

  The mother nodded away.

  ‘And should I get you a ticket?’

  ‘Yes to Adyar please.’

  ‘I am going beyond, to Besant Nagar. Shall we share a cab?’

  ‘That would be such a relief! It’s sooo la—’ was all the mother could get in as the baby had started bawling again.

  Meenu shooed the two away and stood in line.

  When the airport taxi turned a right to the Taluk office main road that headed towards Raj Bhavan, the Qualis began to navigate the roads at a snail’s pace. Thankfully, the roads turned better once they steered left to Sardar Patel Road and remained that way all the way to Adyar. After dropping the mother and child to a much relieved family, Meenu directed the driver to her house.

  Even in the pitch darkness, she could make out the waters that had entered many homes, catching and winking back the fuzzy orange light of street lamps. As the taxi drew closer and closer to the beach, the Mushroom loomed into view. She got down, paid the driver the extra Rs 250 he demanded and opened the gates.

  As she stepped in, the waters lapped around her ankles in a sort of soppy welcome. She quickly jogged towards the mound and up the stairs to the entrance door. She entered the room with her bags and without switching the lights on. She knew her room well enough but when she turned around, she noticed a lone orange flicker at the end of the room.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she asked, sounding alarmed.

  ‘Me…’

  ‘Who? Ra … Rakesh, is that you?’ she asked in a stunned voice.

  She walked slowly towards the window and there by the stream of moonlight that came in through the curtains she traced the tilted head and tousled hair that she had come to adore over the past few months. He was seated on the ledge by the bay window, his legs stretched out, wearing jeans and a shirt barely tucked in.

  As she went nearer, he folded his legs and taking that as cue, she sat down next to him feeling his eyes on her immediately. But it was not one of those leisurely, lingering stares he had often reserved for her but an intense, searing stare.

  Then in a voice that appeared distant he said, ‘I am sorry, I’ll find another room.’

  ‘Stay,’ she said, her voice a bare whisper.

  But he got up tucking the laptop under his arm.

  ‘Rakesh oru chance kodu to explain properly,’ she said, getting up.

  Rakesh whose face was inches from hers turned to the side and took a puff at his cigarette.

  ‘Meenakshi, you don’t owe me or anybody else any explanation. You have made it amply clear that you are trying to have fun.’

  ‘Yes, but my idea of fun is not two timing! I haven’t been out with anyone since I ran into you in Mumbai and I remember that day because I had come for the puja.’

  Seeing that Rakesh wasn’t going to add to the conversation, she continued, ‘That very evening I fought with Rathore. I realised that I had to break all ties with him if I wanted to continue work at DT. I have maintained distance from him since then!’

  Then in a voice so harsh that he regretted using it immediately, he asked ‘Is that why he was all over you during the office party?’

  ‘But I wasn’t! Isn’t that the point? It drove him crazy to see me friendly with another man – you! And before I could call it off, he was gone for a month.’

  Rakesh who was having a hard time standing next to Meenu and hear the hurt in her voice stubbed out his cigarette and ran his fingers through his hair again.

  ‘Meenu … you must be tired. Let me get my stuff and …’

  ‘Please don’t go, Rakesh,’ said Meenu, taking hold of his free hand.

  For a moment he went numb. Then he gently broke away from her hold and picked up his rucksack from a corner, walking away from the woman he had come to love with every emotion that rose and fell in his body.

  22

  Meenu sat on her bed, waves of rejection clutching her from all sides. She didn’t bother closing the door after Rakesh but when she got up from her bed again, she peeled her clothes off and stood under the shower. As drops of water slid their way down the planes of her face, her tears fell. Finally.

  A floor below, exactly below to be precise, the over six foot Rakesh was trying to cram his shoulders into a three seater sofa with very little success. It was an exercise that a hankering heart and broad blades had no hope of resolving. So he let his shoulders spill out of the sofa and his legs tumble over the arm rest. Thus settled, he began staring at the ceiling for what else was there to do anyway? A couple of minutes passed and he began to trace Meenakshi’s bed and its four legs. He couldn’t help it if her bed was positioned right above him but it was getting darn hard to catch some winks knowing that she was right above him.

  A good hour passed before Rakesh gave up trying to fall asleep. It was almost 4 a.m. when he got off the sofa and decided to freshen up. A quick peek into the rucksack confirmed that he had left his shaving kit in Meenakshi’s bathroom. He decided to retrieve it and went up the stairs to the landing leading to her bedroom on the left. The door was open just as he had left it and he found her sleeping on the bed, her breathing regular and rhythmic.

  He moved quietly to the bathroom on one end of the room and groped around for his kit. The bathroom smelled of a fruity shampoo that had clearly not been used by him the past one week he had availed its facilities. Might as well brush and shave here, he thought, inhaling the very scent he liked to nuzzle into whenever Meenakshi was close by. Under the light of his cellphone, he brushed and shaved, surprised to find the water tepid. Meenakshi must have used the geyser, he concluded. Well, as long as the water was tepid, might as well sneak a shower, he thought. God knew it would be a while before he got an empty bathroom. There were subjis of people mandied up at fifty-six.

  He stripped out of his clothes and belt as quietly as possible but unknown to him the slumbering woman outside stirred. He showered, tied a turkish he had hung to dry the previous morning and emerged from behind the shower curtain.

  ‘God! you gave me a fright,’ he said to Meenu who had sat herself down on the commode.

  She smiled back at him weakly.

  ‘Did I wake you up?’ he asked ruefully. ‘Sorry … I just wanted to have an early start.’

  ‘Rakesh … don’t turn your back at me. I never meant to hurt you,’ she said her eyes glistening even in the little light that entered the bathroom.

  Rakesh moved to his right and leaned against the wash basin crossing arms and locking eyes with Meenu, who had now stood up.

  ‘Can’t we go back to what we had?’ she asked taking a step forward and then another till there was hardly any space between the two. She stood on her tiptoes and raised her head to look into his eyes till her upturned nose grazed his Adam’s apple ever so lightly. Sensing that he wasn’t resisting, Meenu rested her head against his chest. It felt like she was finally home.

  Rakesh stiffened under the unexpected warmth of her body, begging his arms to remain on the counter but they seemed to have a mind of their own for a moment later, they had wrapped themselves around Meenakshi holding her tighter and closer. Just being near her made him feel better, ease the exhaustion of the last few days. When she looked up, he looked into her eyes for just a moment before bringing his mouth down on hers, kissing her hungrily, drinking in what he had denied himself for weeks now. Meenu stood on tip toe, her warm breasts touching his cold, bare chest, titillating him further. Rakesh scooped her up and out of the bathroom, kissing and trailing his increasingly hot breath along every inch of her neck and shoulders. When they tumbled onto the bed, his long, strong fingers stroked her spine and her lower back. Meenu let out a not so low moan, craving and quaking under his touch. He brought his head closer, kissing the upturned nose of the girl w
ho had turned his life upside-down. Suddenly, they both heard coughing, unmistakably her father’s in the corridor outside. Rakesh could have very well continued kissing. Her father wasn’t so ill bred to walk into his grown daughter’s room in the night, unannounced. But the moment was lost and he tore his face away from the woman he loved.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Meenu asked, her eyes widening.

  Rakesh had already risen from the bed and was retying the towel around his waist.

  ‘Is this all you want, Meenu?’ he asked her quietly.

  ‘Because I want more. I want you. Forever,’ he said to himself as he walked out of the room.

  Meenu stared after his bare shoulders.

  Sheer exhaustion quietened her mind to sleep. At half past nine, when she sauntered into the babble downstairs, she found her house completely transformed. There was a human in every inch of the floor, talking, shouting, carrying boxes, water bottles, sanitary pads, straw mats and blankets; eating, messaging and sleeping right in the middle of the hall.

  The smell of steaming idlies wafted in from the kitchens. Had Padu’ma lost her mind? Why was she cooking when there was a wedding next door in twenty-four hours? Something was up. There were droves of people standing about and they all looked singularly stressed.

  Luckily, she spotted Krishna and she moved towards him.

  ‘Yenna aachu?’ she asked circling her pointer at the chaos around them.

  ‘The wedding is off.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Deepa called it off. ’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because the groom didn’t agree to have a registered wedding.’

  Meenu’s eyebrows shot up even as her jaw tumbled open.

  ‘She’s been trying to talk the family out of the celebrations for some time now. She thought they would come around but they didn’t. So she called it off.’

  ‘Why did she want a registered marriage?’

  ‘Have you not seen the extent of damage?’ snapped Krishna.

  ‘I came home close to two last night,’ snapped back Meenu. ‘There was hardly anything I could see,’ she replied not bothering to add that she had had no trouble in spotting the orange flicker of Rakesh’s cigarette.

  Krishna let out a sigh.

  ‘She’s been helping me with relief work and I think it has made her lose her appetite for a big fat wedding,’ he explained quietly.

  ‘Surely you don’t hold yourself responsible?’

  Her brother just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘What about the guests? They must be a hundred already making their way here.’

  ‘We are onto it. Every guest is being informed. The outstation, NRI ones first.’

  ‘And the florist? Did someone think to inform him?’

  ‘Padu’ma spoke to him. Apparently he sounded super relieved. Getting the orchids and lillies for the wedding was turning out to be a nightmare. No truck from Madurai or Coimbatore was willing to come in to Chennai.’

  ‘What about the caterer?’

  ‘He kept a hefty advance and returned the rest.’

  ‘Understandable. He must have bought all the provisions and vegetables. The wedding is just a day away, after all.’

  ‘Hmmm…’ said Krishna, thinking about something. Just as Meenu thought they were passing into silence, he opened his mouth and said, ‘Deepa told me that her fiancé was shocked to see people from the roads splayed in the wedding hall they had booked. He had gently but firmly told the authorities to have them cleared out before December first and second.’

  Meenu let out a low whistle.

  ‘That must have gone down well with Deepa.’

  Krishna grinned, his eyes smiling wickedly like his sister’s. ‘You should have seen her when she came in this morning. I thought she would wring the head off the boy with her bare hands. Instead, very calmly she announced that the wedding was off.’

  Amidst the chaos, Meenu spotted two kids seated around cartons. Their heads were bent and lips pursed in concentration. They looked vaguely familiar. They were the kids from the summer who kept dashing into everyone and everything!

  ‘What are you doing?’ She asked walking up to them and bending down.

  ‘Parcelling.’

  ‘Parcelling what?’

  ‘Food packets for relief work,’ they chimed importantly.

  ‘And who asked you to do this?’ she asked with a smile.

  ‘He,’ they said pointing at Rakesh who had arrived to take their now filled carton.

  ‘Had to give them something to do. Was worried they would go soft in the head with all that banging,’ he said with a smile.

  Meenakshi smiled back and for a moment it seemed as if the tension between the two would melt but he bent down to scoop the carton up and walked away.

  She watched the kids for a while trying to hide her hurt and then headed towards the kitchen for some breakfast. Her stomach was growling. Padu’ma who was busy scooping the bald white idlies out of their moulds put out a plate as soon as Meenu walked in.

  ‘Is our house some sort of headquarters?,’ she asked settling on a stool.

  ‘Only for this area,’ her mother replied continuing to cook out a heady, sputtering tamarind paste in the kadai.

  ‘And only for food,’ said Krishna who had walked in and grabbed a stool next to his sister.

  ‘It was Rakesh who suggested we focus on food,’ he said, rolling up his sleeves.

  ‘Not surprising,’ Meenu murmured into her coffee.

  ‘That’s why we are moving all the other essential supplies to other centres.’

  ‘How did all this start?’ she asked looking at her brother with barely hidden admiration. ‘A lot of homes were washed away when the flood gates were opened for the first time on seventeenth November. Homes that were still standing were filled with water. People didn’t have access to food or water. So we stepped in. Now that a lot more people are involved, we focus only on food. We take it to collection centres and drop it off there. Amma prepares an extra two hundred boxes of puli or thire saadam that Rakesh and I personally distribute to badly hit areas.’

  Meenu took it all in quietly.

  ‘So it all worked out. You not going to the US’, she said.

  Krishna nodded. ‘It more than worked out. It feels good to be of use here.’

  ‘Family counsel?’ asked Rakesh walking in to the kitchen. Krishna and his mother smiled back at him nodding to the negative. Meenu found herself going still as his arms brushed hers to grab a stool beside her. He placed his laptop on the table top and pushed it to the middle so that Krishna could peer into it.

  ‘Listen. I have asked my team to fly in two of my vacuum sealers from the restaurant.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Meenu, unable to lid it like always.

  ‘Cause we can’t move the nitrogen generators which would have been the better option.’

  ‘No I mean why do we need these equipment?’

  ‘Oh that! Once our food packets are sealed by the vacuum sealer, all the oxygen and moisture will be drained out. It will keep the food fresh for days. Padu’ma aunty has been really fantastic. I would hate to see her efforts go waste,’ he said looking up and offering her one of his knock out smiles that convinced her she could steam at least one more batch of idlies.

  ‘How are they going to make it here?’ asked Krishna.

  ‘I have booked a ticket for one of my kitchen staff.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to buy it here?’

  ‘I have no clue which shop sells it here and whether it is open!’

  ‘When will your man be here?’

  ‘By tonight.’

  ‘Once he is here, he’ll help with the vacuum sealing and cooking.’

  Padu’ma was quite relieved to hear the last bit. Cooking was certainly not her forte but she had soldiered on for her son and maybe a prospective son-in-law. Of course, for all the people rendered homeless that was the primary reason. But a little help wouldn’t hurt.

&n
bsp; ‘Sounds good,’ said Krishna getting up from the stool to dump his now empty plate into the sink.

  Meenu got up from the stool to follow but Rakesh brought his palm down on her wrist.

  ‘I am sorry about last night. Won’t happen again,’ he said looking at Meenakshi in the eye.

  Krishna who had entered into a loud and totally unnecessary discussion with his mother on the goodness of tamarind waited for his sister to respond before turning around.

  ‘Let’s go?’

  Rakesh nodded and the two left.

  23

  The two men trooped out of the kitchen to gather volunteers for Varadharajapuram, a small village located in the outskirts of Chennai. Flanked by three separate lakes – Manimangalam, Manivakkam and Mudichur – it was fast disappearing under water and its residents, desperate for any form of help. Meenakshi watched her brother and Rakesh load water bottles and Padu’ma’s food boxes into the back of a Jeep even as they shouted over the pounding rain their plan ahead. The team would head to Manimangalam Road Junction and hand over supplies to the coastal security that was coordinating rescue efforts in the area with forty-five of its personnel. No volunteers were allowed beyond that point not unless it was a fisherman with an out-bound machine boat (OBM) that could evacuate people out of their homes.

  As the Jeep slushed away from their house, Meenakshi couldn’t help but feel a bit left out. She turned around and made her way to her bedroom with the day’s paper in hand, dried and ironed to a crisp by her father. On the front page was a weather update worded not very differently from yesterday’s alert or the day before that. A low pressure was intensifying southeast of Bay of Bengal. Starting tomorrow, heavy rains were to be expected from 8.30 a.m. Updates across news and weather websites echoed similar sentiments – the low pressure was likely to intensify and charge into Chennai and coastal Tamil Nadu from Tuesday, 1 December.

  By noon when there was an unlikely respite from the rains, Meenu stepped out of her room to take a look at the grounds that surrounded her house. Beetles, red velvet mites, earthworms and slugs were out, swamped by the water in their homes, swollen with the effort to breathe above ground. A tangle of cycles lay parked by the porch and before she knew it, she mounted one and rode out under the slate grey skies past inundated by-lanes. In one of the lanes, she spotted bare chested boys playing volleyball in waist deep water. The sight was so unusual that she stopped to watch a goofy looking boy fall backward into the water in an attempt to return a serve. Meenakshi smiled even as others burst out laughing. Her city always knew how to enjoy the small things.