“Who says you are not good-looking?” His father pounded a fist on the table, his trademark gesture for demanding attention.
Sometimes he seemed to forget that he was no longer a stick-wielding schoolmaster. “You have good stature and you are a brilliant doctor. Any girl should be honored to marry you.”
Harish laughed. “I’m your son, Dada. Even if I were a bald-headed midget with no teeth, you and Mamma would think I was good-looking.”
Prachi snickered at Harish’s droll comment but quickly suppressed the laughter as her eyes traveled to her father-in-law’s bushy eyebrows knitted in a piqued V. She managed to clear her throat and supported his opinion instead. “Dada’s right. Any girl would snatch you up in a minute, Harish.”
Harish angled an amused look at her. “Is that a fact? Would you have agreed to marry me?”
“Well . . . I suppose.” She cleared her throat again. “But . . . I liked your brother better. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have considered you, of course,” she said with a wicked smile. She had an impish sense of humor.
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“Excuse me! What’s this I hear?” Satish stared at his wife, feigning dismay.
“You heard me, my dear,” she replied coyly. “I preferred you.”
It was Shalini who put an end to the gentle ribbing, which she probably construed as flirting between her daughter-in-law and her younger son. “Chhee-chhee, what kind of silly talk is this—
a married woman considering another man?” She tossed a disapproving glance at Prachi and started to clear the table. “In our society, once a woman marries, then she should be pati-vrata.”
Completely faithful and devoted to her husband. “She should not even be thinking about other men, let alone talk this way.”
Harish put a playful arm around his mother’s shoulder. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never looked at another man since you married Dada.”
“Of course not!” A slap on the hand was what Harish earned for his brazen comments. “I married your father thirty-six years ago and I have not cast an eye on another man since then.”
“What about before you married him?”
Shalini sniffed in disdain and started stacking the thalis—the large stainless steel plates used as everyday dishes. “Respectable Maharashtrian girls don’t make flirty eyes at men.”
Harish noticed the veiled amusement in Prachi’s dark, sparkling eyes. He suspected that later, after the elders went to bed, Satish, Prachi, and he would likely get a good laugh out of this topic. They often roared with laughter at Dada and Shalini’s antiquated notions.
Satish stood up and pushed in his chair. “But, Mamma, what about all those romance novels and women’s magazines in your room? The magazines have articles like ‘Ten Ways to Heat Up Your Sex Life’ and ‘Making Love in the Most Unlikely Places.’ ”
“That kind of nonsense I do not read!” Shalini snapped. “I only look at recipes and good spiritual articles and stories.” She took her stack of dishes and swept out of the room.
Satish and Harish burst into laughter. Under pressure to be the well-behaved daughter-in-law, Prachi barely allowed her lips to twitch.
88 Shobhan Bantwal
“Stop making tingal of your mother!” The sharp reprimand from their father brought the hilarity to an abrupt stop. Tingal was a slangy Marathi word for mockery.
The three of them watched the older man rise from his chair and stride toward the drawing room. They knew he would settle down to watching some TV and then head for bed. The minute they knew he was out of earshot, they all started to snicker once again.
“Tsk-tsk. So many years since he retired and he still thinks he’s a teacher and we’re his pupils,” murmured Satish.
Harish shook his head. “After coming to live with you two hell-raisers, I’m surprised he hasn’t changed.”
Just then his mother came out of the kitchen and handed him a plastic bag. It had containers filled with the leftovers she’d promised him. “Now don’t forget to take it to the office tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mamma.”
“And tell Rama to heat it for several minutes. Nonvegetarian food needs to be reheated thoroughly.”
“Yes, Mamma.”
“Refrigerate the bag immediately after you reach home.” Shalini headed back to the kitchen.
“Yes, Mamma.”
Satish snickered. “You’re such a bull-shitter, Harish Salvi. You have no intention of eating that chicken for lunch, do you?”
Harish smiled. “You’re right, but I promise it won’t be wasted.”
“That’s enough for tonight, Priya,” said Isha, inserting a book-mark in the colorfully illustrated storybook and setting it aside.
“More please, Mummy.” Sitting on the floor at her feet in mauve- and white-gingham pajamas, Priya looked tired and more than a little sleepy. But she loved a good story.
“Uh-uh, it’s past your bedtime.” Isha glanced at the baby sleeping peacefully on the cot. “I need my rest, too. In about an hour your sister is going to wake up hungry.”
Priya lay down on the bedroll with a resigned sigh. “Will you read some more tomorrow?”
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Isha shut off the light and settled next to the infant. “I promise.” Within two minutes Priya was fast asleep. Isha could clearly hear her daughter’s soft, even breathing.
Despite the need to sleep, Isha remained awake a while longer, pondering the immediate future. When was the money going to be released by the insurance company? She had filed the papers months ago and she desperately needed the funds to get on with her life. And her plan.
God only knew if her plan had any merit, but it was the only viable one she could think of under the circumstances. Just before she fell asleep she made a resolution to ring the insurance man once again, that useless, good-for-nothing excuse for an agent. This time she was going to give him a piece of her mind, too. She was thoroughly tired of waiting.
Chapter 10
“Are you sure it was my sister-in-law you saw and not someone who looks like her?” Sheila Sathe frowned at her friend Anita Yalgi, wondering if what she’d just heard was a figment of Anita’s imagination.
“Of course I’m sure,” Anita assured her. “I know Isha well enough. There’s no way I could mistake someone else for her.”
Anita was an attractive woman with sharp features and a wide smile. At the moment, she was wearing a cool white sari with a pastel print and matching pearl accessories—perfect for a warm, leisurely morning.
They were sitting on wicker chairs on the shady verandah behind the spacious house the Yalgis had owned for two genera-tions. It was a peaceful haven with a canopy of bougainvillea creepers heavy with fat pink and white flowers.
Sheila watched her friend pour tea from the elegant porcelain teapot the servant had just delivered.
Accepting her cup from Anita, Sheila took her first scalding sip. Her hands shook and the cup rattled. But the tea was soothing, just the thing to calm the sudden churning that had started in her stomach at hearing Anita’s disturbing news.
How could Isha, her estranged sister-in-law, still be in town?
Apparently when she had packed up her things and said her terse good-byes to Sheila’s parents, she had mentioned something about going to her cousin’s home in Mumbai. Sheila had tracked down every cousin she could think of. But no one had heard THE
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from Isha. She had left no forwarding address and had never bothered to write or call. It was as if Isha and Priya had disappeared into thin air.
So why was Isha still here in Palgaum? Had something happened to prevent her from traveling to Mumbai? Was she okay?
Was little Priya sick or something?
Anita gave her an anxious look. “Are you all right? You look stunned. I hope I didn’t upset you.”
Sh
eila put down her cup on the teapoy before her trembling hands dropped it. “I’m just a little surprised.” Anita had been Sheila’s best friend ever since college. Fortunately they had both married wealthy local men, and hence they could still see each other regularly.
They went to the ladies’ club together to play mahjong and badminton, they shopped together at the trendy stores in town, and at least twice a month the two women got together to have tea at each other’s homes and share gossip. They preferred to call it news.
But to hear about Isha was upsetting. She had been on Sheila’s mind for the past three months. Sheila had discreetly tried to find out where Isha could have gone but without success. Unfortunately, Sheila had never bothered to find out the number for Isha’s mobile phone. They’d never had reason to call each other on their mobiles. In fact, they practically never called.
Their homes were so close, they’d seen each other nearly every day. She didn’t even know if Isha still had the mobile service.
Isha’s silence was hurtful, because although there was friction between Isha and the elders, the two of them had always had a cordial relationship. More than sisters-in-law, they were friends.
And now there was this news. Why hadn’t Isha asked for help?
Why had she taken off on her own with a small child in tow?
“So what exactly is going on with your sister-in-law?” asked Anita. “I know she was depressed after your brother passed away.” She shook her head. “What a tragedy, losing her husband at such a young age and in such a brutal manner, especially when she’s expecting her second child.” She leaned forward and touched Sheila’s hand. “And you, poor thing, you’re still grieving.”
92 Shobhan Bantwal
Sheila blinked back the threatening tears. Her younger brother had been her constant companion in childhood. Nikhil and she were close in age and he had always looked out for her. She still couldn’t believe he was gone—murdered in cold blood. She continued to have nightmares about that.
The whole robbery-murder case was very bizarre. If it was indeed a robbery gone bad, then why were Niku’s expensive gold watch and diamond ring still on his body? Thieves generally took everything they could get their hands on, especially jewelry.
Sheila was convinced her brother had been murdered for some other reason. But what? Niku was a decent man who had worked hard to nurture the business started by their father.
Who would want to kill him? The police didn’t seem to have a clue, or at least that’s what they claimed. She had a feeling they were hiding something.
Months after his death, they were still looking for the killer.
Poor Isha was heartbroken, and so were Sheila’s parents. Her mother had taken to her bed for a long time. Ayee was only now beginning to recover. “I can’t imagine what poor Isha went through and is now suffering,” she said to Anita. “I wish I could have stopped her from leaving.”
“What do you mean? Leaving for where?”
“She packed her bags and left my parents’ home a few weeks after Niku’s death.”
Anita’s eyes went round with shock. “Left as in . . . perma-nently?”
“She couldn’t handle living with Ayee and Baba anymore.
They’re not easy to live with.”
“But where did she go? I know her father died in an auto accident some years ago, and her mother died of cancer recently.
She doesn’t have anyone else, nah? ”
“She apparently said she was going to Mumbai to stay with her cousin for a while, until the baby arrives. I managed to contact the two cousins I know of, but neither of them has seen her or heard from her. By now she’s very close to her due date.”
Sheila sighed in utter misery. “Who knows, her daughter may have been born already.”
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“How do you know it’s a daughter?”
“She had an ultrasound done.” Sheila picked up her cup and took another sip of tea. “My parents gave her hell about it. I feel terrible about that.”
“I’m completely confused. You’re talking in riddles.”
“I haven’t told anyone about this, so I want you to promise not to say anything to anyone.”
“What could be so bad that you’d hide it from me, Sheila?
We tell each other everything. We always have.”
“My parents were pressuring Isha to have the baby . . . aborted.”
“Why?”
“Because it was a girl.”
Anita’s mouth fell open. “Really! I hear about female feticide often enough . . . but your parents? I thought they were such modern, liberal people.”
“On the surface, yes, but deep down they’re very conservative. Besides the religious and philosophical reasons, since Nikhil was their only son, they wanted a grandson to carry on the Tilak name.”
“Hmm.”
“So when they found out Isha was going to have a second girl, they more or less ordered her to go for an abortion.”
“And what did Nikhil have to say about that?”
“He was against abortion, just as much as Isha was. That’s what caused a lot of friction between my parents and Nikhil and Isha. And then on top of all that, Nikhil died suddenly and Isha had to face my parents on her own. I think that’s what forced her to leave.”
“That poor woman.” Anita seemed to turn something over in her mind for a minute. “She’s obviously still in Palgaum. At least we know she was at St. Mary’s—last week, anyway.”
“She may still be in town. I’m going to find out.”
“How?”
“Maybe the nuns have an address for her or something.”
Sheila sprang to her feet and picked up her purse. “Did Isha see you?”
“I doubt it. I was driving by the back of the school after 94 Shobhan Bantwal
dropping my Reena off to class when I saw Isha walking past one of the buildings. I know it was she because I saw the big pregnant belly. It was definitely Isha.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this right after you saw her?”
Anita shrugged. “It didn’t seem important. You never told me she had left home. All these months I thought she was with your parents.”
“Your servants didn’t bring the gossip to you?”
Anita shrugged again, signaling the answer was no.
“It wasn’t something we told anyone,” admitted Sheila. “Imagine the scandal when people discover Isha left her in-laws and took off with her daughter soon after her husband passed away.
And the reason for her leaving would be even more scandalous.”
“Since I didn’t know of her disappearance I thought she was at St. Mary’s to bring Priya to school. It seemed perfectly normal.”
Sheila realized how it must look to her friend. “I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult to understand. I don’t understand any of this myself. It’s like a bad dream. My parents pretend like they never had a daughter-in-law or a granddaughter. They mourn for Nikhil, and Ayee still cries over his loss, but Isha and Priya don’t seem to exist in their world.”
“That’s terrible!” Anita looked contrite. “Maybe I should have stopped and talked to Isha, nah? I was tempted to, but I hadn’t seen her since Nikhil’s passing and you know how awkward it is to carry on a conversation under the circumstances.”
She made a helpless gesture with her hand. “What can one say to a woman whose husband was found brutally murdered?”
“I know.” The guilt settled around Sheila. Some of it was her own fault, that Isha had been forced to make the decision to leave her parents’ house.
If she was any kind of sister-in-law, she should have lent some support to Isha when her parents had, time and again, said nasty things about Isha and the unborn baby’s ill-fated astrolog-ical auras casting a karmic shadow on the Tilaks’ lives. And each time, Isha had tried to defend her actions on her own.
Without Nikhil’s support, the poor woman had bor
ne the brunt of Ayee and Baba’s foolish beliefs all alone.
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Sheila had been afraid of her parents’ wrath, especially her father’s. Nikhil had always been the stronger of the siblings, and he had managed to stand up to them whenever the need arose, like when he’d told them to back off when they kept pushing for abortion. But Sheila was the weak one, the subservient girl raised in a strict Brahmin environment. All along she’d been obedient and let her parents make all the decisions for her.
So when it had come to defending Isha, Sheila had done nothing. She’d stood by helplessly, secretly hoping that things would settle once the baby was born. But now she wondered if she should have offered Isha her support. After all, Isha was her brother’s wife and the mother of his child. Priya was Sheila’s niece and she loved her like she did her own kids.
The thought of Priya made her wince. Ayee and Baba had never treated their granddaughter with affection. No wonder Isha had decided to get away from that cold and loveless house.
After Niku’s death, it had turned downright grim.
Was it too late to make amends? Maybe not. She could at least help Isha financially. Sheila wasn’t sure if Isha had any cash on her. In spite of her gentle disposition, her sister-in-law was a proud woman and had probably left home with nothing. Perhaps that’s why she was still in town, because she couldn’t afford to buy tickets to Mumbai. Oh God, what a terrible thing for a woman who’d lacked nothing until a few months ago.
Sheila looked at Anita. “I think I’m going to go to St. Mary’s right now and see if Mother Regina knows Isha’s address.”
“What if Mother Regina doesn’t know?” Anita asked. “Or what if she knows but won’t tell? Isha could be in hiding.”
“Maybe, since she hasn’t made any effort to contact us all these months.” Sheila was doubtful about being able to press Mother Regina into divulging anything. She had attended St. Mary’s and knew the elderly nun well. Too well. The old bat was stubborn and difficult. But she was fair, and Sheila was determined to try her best to persuade the old woman.
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