Maya's New Husband

by Neil D'Silva

  “Don’t you mean 30, Rashmi?” the third woman said.

  “Oh, shut up, Kajal! Look at him! Don’t mind my age.”

  Kalki giggled at the joke.

  The elderly woman broke into this little circle. “You girls must leave the baby now, seriously,” she said. “Children do not like being crowded in this manner. And is that some perfume you have on? Please keep such synthetic scents away from the baby, Kalki.” Rashmi, who had worn the precious cologne, reluctantly kept the baby back into his crib. Looking at the old woman, they receded into the corner with a cold drink each.

  “Be careful of the child, Kalki,” warned Ancie amma. “Children are very delicate. Mind what he sees, for children grow up like what they see. There was a woman in my days who used to take her newborn to the fields. One day, when she was busy in her work, a snake crept up to the baby who was carelessly kept on the ground. The woman reached just in time. The snake’s hood had already been raised, but the woman made such a hue and cry that the snake slithered away. The baby was safe, but soon after that the baby began developing a particular skin condition. Nobody could tell what that was, but when he grew up to a young boy, it was clear that he had hexagonal scales like a snake all over his back. It was horrible.”

  Kalki let out a shudder. “Is that a true story?” she asked.

  “Nowadays you city people do not believe in all these things, I know,” said the more experienced woman. “Come to the village and I’ll tell you of such incidents that will make you think twice about taking anything for granted.”

  Jay Fernandes sat in a circle with a few of the older men, all nursing glasses with different colored spirits in them. Jay held a pint of beer in one hand and a chicken drumstick in another and talked wildly, the alcohol having taken some of its effect.

  “You have an amazing wife,” an old man whispered his Jay’s ear, his breath stinking of chicken. “Most women bloat up horribly after their first pregnancy, but your wife has really maintained herself.”

  Jay was drunk, but not so drunk that he could ignore the man’s wink. He took the statement as a compliment then, but he would later see it in a different light.

  “She’s a good wife,” said Jay. “She takes care of her stuff herself. She even bore all the pregnancy pains herself.”

  “Say, there was some incident, right?” another of the older men said. “My wife told me Kalki had to be hospitalized.”

  “There was an issue, yes, and it really gave us a scare. It was in the second month that too. The doctor told us that is a very delicate time for a pregnant woman and so we were doubly scared.”

  “What had happened?”

  “She got some pains. They were unbearable really, and we rushed her to the hospital. The doctor said it was too early to have any pains, but they passed.”

  “Thank Jesus everything turned out all right,” said the old man.

  Jay nodded. He hadn’t narrated the whole incident to the uncle though. He didn’t tell him that she was admitted not for pains but for the blood that had begun to flow through her vagina in the second month. He didn’t tell his audience of elderly men that his wife’s menses had resumed suddenly then. He didn’t tell them of the emergency ultrasound that was carried out when she was admitted. He didn’t tell them that the baby was missing in the mother’s womb for a few days.

  But then, as the uncle said, everything turned out all right. After spending a very distressed week, the parents had begun to actually resign themselves to their fates, when miraculously — it could be nothing but a miracle — the little fetus turned up again in the ultrasound.

  There was no mistaking those dainty little fingers and toes that had begun to take shape.

  The baby was back. Only Jesus could have brought it back. There was no other explanation for it.

  Ancie amma sat with her husband in the farthest corner of the room. Upon being called, Jay kept his glass on a table and rushed to them. He knelt down in front of them so as to hear them over the loud music of the film songs being blared by the speakers.

  “What is it, mom?” asked Jay.

  The lady leaned forward. “Your father is drunk,” she whispered. “I think we must make a move.”

  “Won’t you have dinner?” asked Jay.

  “I ate those mutton patties; I am full now. And look at him. Do you think he is in a position to eat anything now?”

  Jay looked at his father, Austin. The man was sharp as a tack and very active when he was sober; but at this moment, he was nothing but a bumbling fool ready to topple over in whichever direction he found space.

  “What happened Ancie?” asked the old man. “Why has the music stopped?”

  “The music hasn’t stopped, dad,” said Jay. “Okay, you leave if you must. I will tell the driver to drop you home.”

  Kalki took the baby in her arms and began to gently rock it. Rashmi came up to her again. “What happened? Has that old crone gone?”

  Kalki laughed noiselessly. “Shh! That old crone is my mother-in-law. Thankfully, she is gone now.”

  “What was she telling you?”

  “Some ghost stories from her village.”

  The other two women came up too.

  “Is the baby crying?” said the other woman, Kajal.

  “No, he never cries. What a good boy! Right?” This was Rashmi, looking enviously at the boy. None of the three women had children of their own, though they were much older than Kalki.

  “All right, I will have to feed him now,” said Kalki.

  “But don’t you have to feed children only when they cry?” said the third woman.

  ‘No, Lekha, not all children cry,” said Kalki. “A mother just understands the right time to feed the child.”

  “Proud mother, eh?” nudged Rashmi.

  Kalki gave one more of her trademark giggles and went into the bedroom.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jay saw Kalki receding into the bedroom with the baby. He kept his glass on the table and excused himself from his uncles who were busy discussing politics.

  Kalki was feeding Aryan in the bedroom, her face turned away from the door. Jay slowly crept up behind her and closed her eyes.

  “If you think after three years of romance, two years being married and one baby I still cannot recognize the touch of your palms, then you are the fool!” said Kalki with a smile.

  “This is not for you to recognize me,” said Jay. “It is just my way of saying I want to be close to you.” He sat down next to her.

  “Your boy’s doing great,” said Kalki. One of the things that had kept the spark of their marriage alive was that they could both understand what each other was thinking. “Been staring all over the place. Needlessly we worried that he will be worried at his Baptism party. See, nothing happened. He was silent as a mouse at church and here as well.”

  “He just keeps staring into the open space with those large eyes of his,” said the father. “People say children see things we cannot see.”

  “Perhaps. Maybe he is thinking about the large heavenly house he has just left to come into ours.”

  “Oh, don’t say that!” said Jay. “My paltry travel agency job won’t be able to meet up with his lofty expectations then. How on earth can I compete with heaven?”

  Kalki intertwined her fingers with her husband’s. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We will manage.”

  She came closer to her husband, oblivious of the loud music going on outside, and puckered her face for a kiss. Jay leaned closer to touch his lips with hers.

  However, this little romantic interlude was abruptly interrupted.

  “Oww!” Kalki yelled out in pain.

  “What happened?”

  She lowered her blouse to check the baby’s mouth. He was suckling innocently at her breast, staring at her with a pleasant expression.

  “He bit me,” said Kalki. “The little rascal bit me.”

  The baby looked at his parents with a smile on his face, the recently consumed breast milk still
gurgling in his mouth. Jay rubbed his son’s bald head. “I think our boy doesn’t want competition so soon.”

  Outside, the music had stopped and the emcee made an announcement. “That’s our call,” said Kalki. “Let’s go start dinner for everybody.” Saying that, man, wife and child proceeded out of the dimly lit bedroom and into the brightly decorated party hall outside.

  “And here he comes,” said the emcee with paid enthusiasm. “Let’s once again give a hand for the cute new brat in the Fernandes household. Aryan Fernandes, Kalki’s bundle of joy!”

  As the motley group of guests burst into applause, Kalki looked at everyone with a hint of pride. It was here finally —motherhood. She would as well bask in its perks as long as she could.

  She held out her baby once again for everyone to see.

  Coming Soon…

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