Tuesday 22 January 2019

Fishy Chronicles 13: Light Packing, Slow Karma And Other Business


(Illustration by A. Peter)

That night there was a tap on my bedroom door.

Genie came in and watched me pack my suitcase. It was a nice spiffy American Tourister that I had bought when my editor had promised me a junket to Rome. A month later I learned that a young thing in the News Bureau had flown out instead.

“I said to travel light,” I heard Genie's moustache say.

“Yes. I’m travelling very light. This is only about 12 kgs.”

“What about Fish?”

“They plan to lie in a hammock, drink Breezers and read.”

Genie held my busy hands still until I looked up. “Come to the sitting room. We have to talk.”

Sudden deflation. “Are you leaving us? So soon?”

“Yes. And I’m taking you lot with me. I need to lay some ground rules.”


This is a fictional series surrounding Fish, Genie, a former thug turned manservant turned free bird, Norbert, a rum-loving mosquito, and Donny, a North Pole elf who gets his new year's wish of spending the Christmas holidays with a family.  
None of them suspects each is going to goad the other into an adventure.  
Fish comprise Gregory, the intellectual, Portas, the fitness freak, Dimitri, the narrator's favourite fish and confidante and Penaaz and Pervez a pair of lovers and thinkers who are ever fearful of losing their loved ones. 
In this episode Genie wants to take Fish and Company on a trip and orders them to travel very light... which causes heartburn in the household. 
Zeba Bobby, a neighbour with an enormous crush on Genie and who hates the narrator, gets a taste of karma.

I followed him into the sitting room, curious. Nobby and Donny were sitting on the TV stand and watching Fish in the tank. They were zipping from side to side and packing.

“Stop what you’re doing and listen to what I have to say,” Genie ordered.

Fish slowed for an instant, but then continued at breakneck speed.

“Now!” Genie leaned over the tank and said a trifle loudly. A sudden thought entered my head – what if Genie had children and they behaved exactly like Fish.

They stilled. And Genie moved to his cupboard, which was always locked. He pulled out one large knapsack and threw it on the ground between us.

“When I said travel light, I meant everything that is essential has to fit into this bag.”

Fish and I looked at Genie and at each other and we laughed. There was already a mountain of stuff at the side of their tank waiting to be packed into their fake Louis Vuitton valises.

Genie sat on the sofa and put one leg over the other and waited for us to stop.

“You're joking, right, Genie?” Gregory was smiling. He was holding a heavy book. I could read one word, Homosapiens.

“Tomorrow you may have to choose between the scales on your back or travelling. We won’t be able to run home and empty your suitcases. Total weight has to be less than 10kgs.”

“I won’t be able to take anything. Barely any clothes and underwear,” I protested.

“There's an excellent laundry service where we're staying and shops. You can buy what you need, but you won’t need to.”

I looked at Fish. They were eerily quiet. Why?

Then Pervez hoisted himself half out of the tank. He and Penaaz were a pair and we rarely heard them speak. Still they were the ones Fish went to for advice. I attributed their wisdom to the old Parsi gentleman they had lived with previously. But they were filled with the dread of the unknown and losing people close to them, especially after their parent Mr Poonawala died.

“Are you taking us in your Fokker?” Pervez asked. Penaaz looked terribly anxious.

“Well?” Gregory demanded.

“Yes. So there's not much space for luggage.”

Suddenly there was a commotion. But I could think of only one thing. “You have a plane?” And you didn't tell me?

“Yes. I use it a lot. Had it for years. Took your dad up in it a couple of times...”

I stared at him, feeling left out in every sense. Fish knew. Papa had known. Only Genie hadn’t felt the need to tell. Against my will I heard myself say, “What do you use it for?”

“Travelling,” Genie said and walked out of the door.

When I had calmed myself, I looked at the fish tank. There was a great big uproar going on. Pervez and Penaaz were completing each other's sentences angrily and vowing not to go.

“He's a madcap who's probably transporting his ganja or diamonds!” Penaaz bounced off the fish tank’s walls in agitation.

“That’s not fair. Genie's given it all up ages ago. He's on the straight and narrow,” Portas said.

“But if he has a death wish, why do we need to follow?” Pervez wailed.

“You guys have flown with Genie before?” I leaned over the tank. I needed to look Fish in the eye because I wanted straight answers.

“Yes.” Portas said, after a long time. Fish had gone silent.

“When?”

“When you were on your junket to Chhindwara.”

More shame. It had been a factory visit into the Indian hinterland that no reporter had wanted and eventually it was thrust on me.

“It was a factory visit. Junkets are to exotic locales for favoured subordinates.”

“Look at it this way. You got to see the interior of Madhya Pradesh in comfort, stayed in a small palace... the kind of experience very few are likely to have,” Gregory said, adjusting his bow tie and not making eye contact.

“Yes, you’re right. Did Papa go?”

Fish bobbed up and down in silence. Dimitri finally made his way up. “Yes. Papa was upset he was doing it behind your back. But he was very sad and the short trips cheered him. Genie promised to take you one day. We are just surprised it didn't happen sooner.”

“Why didn’t it happen sooner?”

“The tensions with your ex husband. Rohit. And when Papa also died you were always disturbed... we felt you were grieving... then Genie left. He got fed up that you couldn’t sort yourself out.”

“That’s not right,” Portas butted in. “He said you needed space. There were too many of us crowding you at any given time.”

“So he abandoned me?!” I was beginning to feel awful.

“No. Of course not!”

“Is that why you guys left?”

Dimitri looked at me for a long time. I could hear Penaaz beg him “no, don’t say it” over and over.

“We left because it was time to let you figure out things. Plus, it was time to move on. Our lifecycle is very short. We always knew we were going to come back. It wasn't just you who lost a beloved parent, you know. Us and Genie too.”

I felt my throat close and nodded. I knew Papa had taken an instant liking to Genie and vice versa. Papa had even got a carpenter to make a cupboard and bed for Genie. And Genie always sat on the sofa or armchairs, unlike the servants. For my father, Genie had been family. For Genie, I suspect, Papa had been his father.

I picked up the bag and slid open the zip and looked into it without seeing. Whatever I had heard hadn’t changed a thing – I was getting out of Peaceful Society for 10 days. And if the Fokker was any indication, I was going to have the time of my life!

“Right, kids. I’m going to take my aviators and wear three pairs of underwear on the Fokker. Be sure to pack your stuff tonight, else I'll commandeer the extra space. What about your things, Donny?”

He pointed at his tiny holdall. It would fit into a sidepocket.

                                      ******
I felt a little fear when I thought of the Fokker, but I was good for an adventure.

Last night I spoke to Penaaz and Pervez about the trip. I had joked about us crashing into the ocean and being with Mr Poonawala and my parents sooner than we thought. But when Fish started angrily raining water on me, I changed tack and told them that I trusted Genie with my life.

I didn’t think Pervez or Penaaz would believe me. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t share my feelings of loss. Or my real fear that all my loved ones would either die or desert me. Neither could I assure them that a plane crash had never been my idea of a top killer of loved ones.

Now the front flap of the knapsack was stuffed with Fish's toys, comics and finger food and they were in their airsuits, impatiently waiting for me to stuff the last of my things into the bag. I hurriedly switched off the lights, checked all the switches and taps and locked my two front doors.

Unusually, Genie was already in the cab – normally he held the door open for me. But I soon realised why. I saw Zeba Bobby rushing towards us on very high heels, in a caftan with a plunging neckline. Plus she wasn't wearing a bra. No wonder Genie was terrified. I jumped in and the Ola driver sped off.

But I needed to finger Genie and though I thought she was awful, I asked, “What’s wrong with Zeba that you can’t be around her for a few minutes?”

I almost shrivelled under his glare. He turned away and looked out the window. After several minutes he glared at me again, “Why couldn’t you tell her to bugger off after she blocked you out of the Christmas preps.”

Fish looked up at the sky. I shrugged weakly. I had felt outnumbered and bullied by the women of Peaceful Society and I hadn’t been able to fight back.

Genie continued to speak, “I’m damned if I’m going to talk to her. I thought you were smart though.”

“Why?”

“Blocking her number and not baking the cakes.”

“I’m now the villain of the society.”

“Of course you are. Peaceful Society is filled with idiots, morons and bullies. If there is someone sensible here, he or she is probably trying to move out. But I’m here now. And Fish and Nobby. We'll see what they throw at us.”

“Yes, Sweetie,” I felt a touch. It was Penaaz. “Be true to yourself.”

I had a sudden thought. “Zeba cornered me at the gate the other day, very angry.”

“Yes?” Penaaz said.

“She said every time she walked past our window, someone threw water at her. But the watchman told her I wasn't at home. Would you know anything about it?”

“Yes.” She smiled beatifically – probably the first time I’d ever seen Penaaz smile. “A lot, actually. Let’s just say, sometimes you can’t wait for karma to come around.”

Fish, Nobby and Donny tittered and Genie stretched in his seat and his body relaxed.

So did I. Only they didn’t know that someone had been watching.

An elderly neighbour I’d given a lift to a few days ago had cackled about Genie washing the windows diligently... and how it always coincided with Zeba passing by.

It probably explained the sun umbrella Zeba now sported everywhere – even at night.

Poor Zeba. She was madly in love with Genie but unable to do a thing about it. And worse, Genie was living with loser me.

Karma had a boot in someone's gut, for sure.

Saturday 12 January 2019

Fishy Chronicles 12: Elf’s Secret Desire



(Illustration by A. Peter)

The day after Christmas I stared at the wasted bodies.

Fish had too much mulled wine and were bobbing up and down in various corners of their tank, eyes wide open and making sucking noises. Nobby was snoring on a pillow. Genie had placed him in a basket and on a table so that he wouldn't get crushed by any slumberous bodies.

Genie had made tea and gone to the gym. Yes, the man was particular about his body. He drank very little, ate carefully but dressed carelessly. And the numbers of his lady fans were growing.

The lady in the flat opposite blew me a kiss. I quickly shut the curtains. The bitch had purposely kept me out of the building's Christmas celebration preparations but wanted me to bake 10 cakes for the party. Fish blocked her number on my phone – one point on which we were in wide-eyed agreement.

This is a fictional series surrounding a group of Fish, Genie, a former thug turned manservant turned free bird and Norbert, a rum-loving mosquito. This Christmas they have a visitor from the North Pole - an elf called Donny. 
Fish comprise Gregory, the intellectual, Portas, the fitness freak, Dimitri, the narrator's favourite fish and confidante and Penaaz and Pervez a pair of serious thinkers and lovers. 
In this episode Donny shares bits of his past and the reason he wants to be in Mumbai.

My eyes rested on Donny, the elf. He was cute. Yesterday he'd helped me wash all the dishes and we’d chatted about the North Pole and popular fiction.

“Do you love your job, Donny?”

“Yes. I love toy-making, though we don’t sell anything. It all just disappears around the end of the year.”

“Surely you know where it’s all going?”

“Nope. But Mr C told me that if I met his targets he’d let me live with a good, fun family for Christmas and New Year.”

“You trust this C?” He sounded like a sweat shop supervisor.

“I guess. He's given me whatever I’ve wanted every year.”

“Which is?”

“Well, two years ago, I asked to go to Penguin Island.”

“Why?!” Suddenly Elf sounded very interesting.

“But why not? I have a fascination for penguins... and I watched Happy Feet.” Donny smiled happily. That was a movie about a tapdancing penguin. Fish and I had watched it and they had pooh-poohed the movie, but Donny didn’t need to know that.

“So, how did you get to Penguin Island?”

“I was dropped into a ferry that goes to the island. I was terrified at first, but the ferry captain took care of me. He let me ride back and forth and took me home everyday. He seemed very amused with me.”

“Must be scary to rely on the goodwill of random strangers.”

“It was, initially. But Mr C told me he would never put me in a situation that exposed me to danger. Yet, oddly, he wants me to toughen up.”

I could feel my mouth turn down at the corners. What sort of crackpot picked up a tiny elf, who hadn’t seen the world, and tossed him into a, I was assuming, rackety tugboat on a rolling sea.

“And last year?” I prodded.

“I went to Mozambique – I wanted to swim along the coral reef.”

“I'm very impressed, Donny. How do you get these ideas?”

“I read the National Geographic.”

“The magazine... no TV?”

“Mr C thinks television is a vice.”

Mr C was also keeping his elves in check. No TV meant not knowing your rights. “Why did you want to be with a family this year, Donny?”

“Oh... just wanted to know what it was like.” Donny couldn’t look at me. His body language read shyness.

“After your adventures of the last two years, it seems very low key.”

“I’ve never had a family. I grew up an orphan and started working as soon as I was able. But I read and Mr C let’s me take a furlough every now and then.”

Furlough. What a strange word to use. “Is there anything you’d like to do specially? I’ll take you around – you have to be a proper Mumbaikar before you leave.”

“Er. There was one thing...” He looked hopeful but blushed furiously and put his head down again.

“What is it?”

“No. It's too embarrassing. I’ll look like an idiot.”

“C'mon, spit it out.”

“No. Please. It’s very silly.”

I stared at Donny, but he blushed and looked studiously at the sink of water. I put my index fingers to his ribs and wiggled the tips. He almost fell from the shock and tried to escape. He was ticklish! What fun!

I tickled and poked gently and he screamed helplessly and laughed and begged me to stop.

“Stop that, you’re hurting him!” Genie ordered, entering the kitchen and filling it instantly.

“Nope. Just tickling him. He won’t tell me what he really wants to do in Mumbai. So I’m trying to get it out of him.”

“You may hurt him. Would you be comfortable telling me, Donny?” Genie asked.

“No.”

“How about you write me what it is you want to do, Donny,” I said.

He looked at my index fingers, drew a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s do the dishes. I want that note under my door before the crack of dawn.”

“Or else?” Genie asked.

“Donny will have to go back not having done what he really wanted to do!” I wiggled my eyebrows and index fingers at Donny and he quickly slid off the kitchen platform and disappeared.

                                    ******
I saw the note under my door in the morning.

It was the pink paper Fish used for special occasions. They had made their Christmas biriyani demand on this paper. It smelt of kebabs and had the image of a mermaid in the background – maybe in the fish world it was considered romantic. Hard to believe Fish were romantic.

I saw the rolled up balls of paper in the dustbin – some pink and some regular white. Fish must have realised Donny was going to take time deciding what to write. They were particular about their smelly waterproof paper. It was odd because they were generous to a fault, but sometimes behaved like stingy cranks.

I opened the note and laughed. Then I read it again and wondered if I could make Donny's wish happen. Genie loomed into view.

“Are you open to a spot of travelling?” he asked.

My mouth closed. “Where to?”

“That’s a secret.”

“But what would I pack and how long would we be away and...”

“Yes or no.”

“What about Fish and Donny?”

“They’re coming with us. Would that be a yes?”

“Would I have to carry woollen clothes?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Were you hoping to go to Europe?”

 “Wouldn’t it be snowed under?” I fobbed off Genie's question. I didn't want to say yes. Someday it would happen.

“Not yet in some parts, but very, very cold now.”

“Ok. So where?”

“Just trust me.”

“Okay. As long as you assure me you won’t sell me into bondage and sexual slavery.”

Genie walked away and I giggled. He turned and glared at me and said, “Be ready by Friday. We're travelling very light.”

I nodded still grinning. “Can I pack a bikini?”

He started walking away and I grabbed his arm. “Okay. Okay. Peeeaaaacccce!!! But Friday is the day after tomorrow.”

“We're travelling out of the country. Game or not?”

Out of the country was good. Out of anywhere, especially out of Peaceful Co-operative Housing Society, was better. My building was blessed with a deceptive name.

“Game! Anyway, we have a tiny dilemma on our hands.” I could hear splashing sounds in the tank. “What’s going on there?”

I moved to the sitting room but Genie blocked my way. “It’s not a sight fit for a woman's eyes.”

“Really?” Was Elf naked? I had to see for myself. I twisted Genie's left nipple hard and jumped around his right side. I ran into the sitting room only to see Donny hanging on to the side of the tank, treading water and listening to our conversation. Fish were crowded around him, letting out shrill hyena laughs.

I felt foolish. Donny had a nifty Speedo on. I had tried to buy him baby clothes, which he wore at home. He later showed me the clothes a kindly Mozambiquan tailor had stitched for him for his travels and some of the very nice clothes Mr C had given him. I wondered if Donny was C's playdoll that he dressed in pretty clothes. I shook away the disappointment and turned to see Genie laughing.

His dimples were in force – and he was actually enjoying the joke on me.

“Did the pinch hurt? I’m sorry.” I figured an apology was in order especially since Genie was paying for the trip. Or was he. “Er, how much will the trip cost?” I asked nervously.

He stopped smiling. “On the house.”

“Why?”

I heard Fish clear their gullets in warning.
Genie looked at them and smiled at me. “I think it’d be good. We'll have fun, like a family. You’ve had a rough few years. Try not to overthink this gift.”

“I just had to ask. I can’t afford an expensive trip.”

“I know. I’m good for it. My Christmas gift to the lot of you.”

“Okay. I need to discuss something with you. Let's go for a walk.”

“I think not. The lady in the opposite flat has been trying to talk to me. I’m not up to the inquisition. Let’s talk in the kitchen. Don't eavesdrop,” he ordered Fish and Donny.

Genie made me walk into the kitchen. “Won't they want to eavesdrop when you order them like that?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“So why do it?”

We saw my neighbour smoking in her window. She excitedly waved at us when she saw Genie and he quickly wedged himself out of sight into the nook near the washing machine.

I handed Genie Donny’s pink letter. Genie read the contents, sniffed the paper and smiled. “What do you think?”

“I’m wondering how.”

“Any ideas?”

“Some.”

                                 ****** 
My eyes were closed and I was listening to Donny sing. He was belting out the latest hit with his own version of lyrics and it was an interesting picture of sexy lady elves in high heels playing peekaboo in a coconut grove.

I felt a touch on my shoulder. “What’s that racket... and why are you sitting outside the bathroom?” Genie said.

I held my finger to my lips and Fish pointed at the kitchen stool and gestured for Genie to sit next to us. He had to crouch very low to sit.

And we stayed quiet. Donny being happy was a magical sound. And more magical was the happiness the others were experiencing. What I loved most about Fish and Genie was that they were happy when someone else was happy.

“How did you manage the tub?” Genie whispered.

“Asked Geeta Sharma upstairs if she still had hers. Luv is now seven years old. And that baby tub will be huge for someone of Donny's size.”

“Good work. I smell... bath salts?”

“Bath salts, back scrubber, the works. How often is Donny going to get to bathe in a tub. Might as well make it the best time he's had.”

“He sounds happy. He’ll never forget you.”

“Aww, Genie. So mushy. Of course Donny won’t. He gave me a dozen kisses, shucked his clothes and dived in. I had to rush in and fish him out when the water got up his nose. So he's kept the door unlocked, but we’re respecting his privacy.”

“And his modesty,” Dimitri winked over the tank’s edge.

We listened to Donny swing from modern hits to old ballads, pitchy and shrill and accompanied by the sounds of splashing.

After what felt like hours, the door opened and a very wet, red elf stepped out daintily in a small towel and I handed Genie a bottle of body lotion. I took another towel and gently rubbed Donny's wet hair. Genie couldn’t stop smiling as Donny offered him one small limb after another for a dose of lotion.

Donny disappeared into the bedroom and came out in the brown long pants and white shirt I had altered. He looked like a sweet little boy. Gregory had even given him a polka dot baby blue bow tie.

I combed Donny's hair – he wanted a side parting – and arranged them all on the sofa and sat next to Genie after setting the timer on my camera.

After years, I was finally going to frame a photo. Fish would help me find the spot.

                                      ******

Tuesday 1 January 2019

Fishy Chronicles 11: Christmas Dawns

Starry night. Christmas is here. Joy to the world
(Illustration by A. Peter)


We stared at the little head, peeping out of the basket. The rest of its body was swaddled in a red cloth with green trim and it’s head was partially covered with a small cap of green, the tip ending in a red pompom. Only its pointy large ears were visible.

Our little babe was fast asleep. A note was pinned to the cloth. We heard a little snore and opened the letter.

My Darling, 

I can't say you've been good this year, but it’s been fun watching you.

Here’s a little gift for your tree on Christmas Eve. May your Christmas be joyous and full of love.

Donny wanted to be with a family this year. He’ll spend a few days with you and vamoose.

Love 

C

“Who's C?” Norbert asked.

“Maybe Mr Claus, going by the little elf on our doorstep,” Genie said.

I goosed the little fellow and he turned over and continued to snore.

“Let's leave him on the sofa and he can wake up on his own,” Genie said, his hand covering my index finger and gently moving it away from the elf’s stomach.

“The note says there are gifts... where are they?” I asked. I was slowly beginning to believe in Santa... after looking at the elf. I’d never seen any semi-naked. It seemed this one was wearing only his cap. The lack of clothing had to be against some Santa's Elf protocol.

“Goodnight,” Genie told me firmly. Fish had already switched off the lights in their tank and were grumbling about the racket and the lights. Nobby was going to watch Genie sleep.

“Goodnight.”

                                 ******
This is a fictional series surrounding a group of Fish, Genie, a former thug turned manservant turned free bird, and Norbert, a rum-loving mosquito
This Christmas they have a visitor and cannot make sense of his appearance.
Christmas dawns... with strange gifts, strange demands and complicated emotions.

                                   ******
I woke up in the middle of the night and peeped in on the elf.

Genie had tucked a little pillow under Elf’s head and replaced the thin cloth covering Elf with a thick woollen muffler. For a former thug, Genie had a very tender side. It often showed unexpectedly. Mogi Singh's loss was our gain.

Elf was awake and watching Nobby and Genie snore in the weak light of the night lamp.

I walked into the sitting room... and immediately began to back out. Elf had let out a short scream and dove under the muffler. I could feel my blush rage.

Our elf was almost naked. He’d just woken and hadn’t thought to dress himself. I turned and waited.

“Sorry, I slept on your gifts. They’re all intact. I checked,” I heard Donny say.

“You mean the basket?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you ring the bell?”

“Couldn’t reach it. And there was too much noise in your flat – I knocked and shouted. Then I got too tired. I ate some of the jam inside.”

“Oh, ok. Thank you for the gifts.”

“I didn’t get them for you.”

“But the note from Santa said there were gifts.”

“Who's Santa?”

I searched for the note. I thought I’d read it correctly. It was on the dining table. I scanned it and then lost some of my wim. This was a gift from a certain C. Just the single initial. So irritating.

“Where’s the gift? And who is C?” I asked the elf.

“Don't know his name. It's always been Mr C. He asked me what I wanted as a New Year’s bonus. I told him I wanted a holiday with sane people.”

Poor, poor Elf. He’d been gipped big time. I wanted to hug him. I rummaged through the basket and slowed.

Nestling next to the half-eaten jar of natural sugar-less French jam were two beautiful ornaments for my tree. A sequined white silk reindeer, the size of my palm, and a small silk bright green elephant. The anonymous gifts every year bordered on strange.

And there were melon seeds and Maltesers, M&Ms and four packets of liquor chocolates. This was new. Was it because of the company I was keeping this year?

I heard a throat clear. Genie was awake. I placed the red cloth on the floor and laid out the gifts. This year the basket was large... and I loved the madness of its contents.

“Elf doesn’t know who Mr C is – he says he just works for him,” I said.

“My name is Donny,” Elf said.

“Donny, are you hungry?”

“May I have your cake?”

I smiled. I went into the kitchen and looked for the fruit cake I’d made yesterday. I had averaged three 2 kg cakes everyday for several days – neighbours I hadn’t seen for the whole year had started talking to me and asking me about my Christmas preparations and sometimes turning up for tea. Children rang my door every now and then to ask if my cake was ready. My ex husband had told me my cooking had been my only skill. When I thought of it later, I had felt the sting.

I hefted Donny onto the kitchen platform and I cut the piece of cake to his specification.

“Homemade wine?” I asked.

“Yes, please.” I warmed the mulled wine – I’d asked an elderly aunty of mine for the recipe. She had married an Anglo Indian and her mother-in-law had liked her very much – enough to share her recipes.

After he had eaten, I set Donny on the sofa and watched him doze off. I laid him on his back gently and tucked the muffler around him. The sitting room was cold because the windows were open. I brought out a dupatta and covered Donny with it.

“Closed the bottle tight, right?” Genie asked.

“Yes.”

“Merry Christmas.” Genie was up on his feet and shaking my hand.

It was 4.54am on Christmas day. There was no point going back to sleep – mass would be at 6am and I needed to get breakfast in order and some part of lunch organised. I went into the bedroom and got out Genie's present. I knew it would fit him. I just hoped he’d like it.

“Merry Christmas, Genie.” I could feel his shock when I hugged him. I backed out of his space quickly. He stared at the gift. He always seemed surprised I wanted to give him a present. He opened it and held out the cream silk shirt I had bought for him from Kerala.

“Fish?” he croaked, folding the shirt back into its cover. I wasn't offended. I knew he'd wear it. Probably at lunch.

“The usual – toys and eats. And for Nobby a special batch of wine and some blood I organised from a lab. I’ll get it by noon — so it’ll be fresh.”

Genie was now standing in front of me and holding out a small silk pouch. It had been at the bottom of the tree and had my name on it. He settled on the divan and watched me unwrap it slowly.

I felt nervous. The packaging looked gauzy and expensive.

I couldn’t open the little box. It said Aspreys. That was the premium jeweller. And it looked new.

“Open it,” Genie insisted.

Two small star-shaped diamond earrings twinkled at me. They laughed and giggled and I involuntarily moved the velvet box this way and that, all the while disbelieving they were really mine.

“How...” I saw the now-awake Nobby shaking his head furiously and my eyes bounced back to Genie.

“Th-thank you, Genie. It’s the nicest present anyone's got me...” I heard the Fish clear their throats. “The nicest. I’m touched. You shouldn't have...”

“Try them on.”

I went to the hall mirror, put them on slowly and stared. They shone and sparkled even better than the ones my mother owned and we had to sell.

I heard Papa's voice, “Remember to embrace and acknowledge the good. It will keep you sane.” It was several months after my mother had passed and I was slowly beginning to realise how fickle human relations were. Something he’d known and I'd never wanted to accept.

I felt Genie, the elf and Nobby, sitting on his shoulders, and Fish watching me. I composed myself and saw the other gifts that had suddenly appeared at the bottom of the tree.

I sat near the tree and opened all the presents. I felt overwhelmed. There was a beautiful bottle green silk dress and some pretty trinkets to go with it. I finally thanked them and served them cake and wine.

“Too early for wine, no?” Genie teased.

“In keeping with the festive spirit and the feeling of bonhomie in which I am awash.”

Fish snickered and I felt Nobby on my ear and in my hair and on my neck. He was content. Happy with his friends and even happier with the wine.

“I just have a question for you guys,” I said.

“Yes,” Genie asked.

“Whose idea were the gifts?”

Fish looked at my ear, I could feel Nobby shift and fly off to sit on Genie's shoulder, Donny looked at everyone perplexed and Genie smiled. Everyone stayed silent.

I sighed and got up. I wasn't going to get an answer. Fish and Genie had the means and Nobby the ideas.

A note had appeared on the fridge door, tucked under a Kenya Safari magnet, two days ago. “Please make biryani for Christmas lunch. We'll clean up.” It was pieced together with letters cut out of a newspaper. I knew they were toying with me. Some people had too much time.

                                    ****** 
I wore the beautiful earrings and silk dress and trinkets for the church service and at lunch. We had the mulled wine. Genie wore his silk shirt and Fish had their new toys arranged the way they wanted. Donny got a stash of chocolates and Nobby gave me a kiss for the blood I arranged.

None of us were alone this Christmas. And they said my biryani was awesome.

And Mr C?

Donny said Mr C's a kindly employer and Donny earns slightly better than minimum wage. But, as he said, the perks make up for everything else.

                                     ******