Fishy Chronicles 37: Secrets

I took the ancient recipe book from the bookshelf. The hardback cover was discoloured and crumbling. All the recipes were in Malayalam and I had rarely opened it to look.

The fat arm's-length book looked like an accounts ledger. It was tied in a bundle with two other recipe books. At some point my mother started buying recipe books and making notes in them and saving clippings from magazines in a folder.

I wondered why I needed to look at them at all - their owners were dead. I wouldn't be able to ask them about measures or how the dish should taste. I didn't know if I'd cook these family dinner dishes. Could I get Aarav and Aditya interested in cooking? Aditya liked to help, especially when I made cakes. He seemed to like the baking process and was smitten by the cookie moulds. I even made an apron for him. We agreed his father needn't know about it.

I untied my great-granny's book. It smelled of dried damp and dust, making me sneeze.

"Bless you." I felt the sofa sag. Genie took the old book from me and opened it. Tiny handwriting crammed the aged, brown pages. The corner of one disintegrated in Genie's hand. Small holes pock-marked the pages. Clearly, insects had found the ink and paper delicious. Genie turned the pages carefully until the writing became spidery and erratic and the recipes stopped and seemed to turn into notes. Water had spilled on the pages, blotting the ink in places. I pointed it out to Genie.

"That's not water. Most likely tears."

Coldness pressed my heart. "W-What?"

"Nothing."

I grabbed his arm. "What do you mean? Why did you say tears?"

He looked at me and a soft sigh escaped him. He pointed at the small crinkles in the page. "See the randomness of the ink blotches? The person seems to have cried. The stains are not there in the previous pages." He turned the pages as quickly as he could without damaging them. "The handwriting seems to be the same all through, so it could be your great grandmother."

"Or grandmother." Suddenly I wasn't sure whose book it had been. Mummy hadn't been keen to write in it even though she had had a wonderful relationship with her grandmother and had filled her own book with her grandmother's recipes.

We set aside the old book and opened Mummy's. The first page had my mother's maiden name and 7 June 197X written at the top. The maiden name was crossed out and her married name scribbled below. Flowers decorated the sides of the page and it instructed us not to read its contents.

We flipped through. Her handwriting changed over the years and the recipes were noted down more haphazardly the older she got.

Then I found a small piece of butter paper. A heart was drawn in it and my parents initials entwined in the heart in Papa's handwriting. Seeing my parents as young lovers was... strange.

Several pages later, there was a conversation in the margin of a recipe.

Papa wrote, "Tell her to stop it."

Mummy: "How?"

Papa: "Use your magic. Tell her it's not on and to forget it."

My eyes scanned the page. There was no date. I grabbed the book from Genie and turned pages back and forth, but couldn't find a date or who my parents were referring to. We went back and began to read again.

Mummy: "She's too stubborn. You try. Speak to her gently else she may get upset and we won't be able to solve things."

Papa: "Let's see. Do you think these people will leave soon? I've got a headache."

Mummy: "I'll get you some balm."

Papa: "Balm won't work in this case."

The conversation ended abruptly. We turned pages but couldn't find the rest.

"Just to confirm - that's Papa's and Mummy's handwriting, right?" Genie asked.

"Yes. But... it was written a long time ago. Do you think they're talking about me?" 

I skimmed the pages to see if I could pin the recipes to a period. Some pages later I found a magazine clipping with the date at the top of the page. 12 July 1990. That ruled me out - I was too little for serious mischief. 

"I don't think it's you they're talking about," Genie confirmed. "Did anyone live with your parents and you when you were younger? Around this time?" he pointed at the date on the page.

"Lots of people turned up and stayed. Especially relatives. And Papa and Mummy had many servants then."

"Okay." He closed the book on my fingers. "I think we should stop."

I was taken aback by his sudden about turn as he was as interested as I to know who my parents' headache had been.

"Okay," I said slowly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Go to bed," he said.

"Okay."

Genie looked taken aback by my response, but his face soon returned to its factory settings.

                                         ******

This is a fictional series about the narrator, her former pet fish and manservant, and now friend, Genie. Fish and Genie have returned from their travels and are staying with the narrator. Previous personal equations have changed. 

The narrator decides to mend her mother's and great grandmother's recipe books. In her mother's recipe book she spots a curious conversation between her parents. She finds tears dotting recipes in another book, written in a script she cannot read.

                                         ******

I couldn't sleep. I wondered if I had insomnia. The phone rang, jolting me further into wakefulness.

Roma asked, "When are you going back to work?"

I hesitated, "Soon. Why?"

"When were you planning to tell us you stopped working?"

"What?"

"So you've been holed up in your flat for months..."

"Not months..."

"... and Genie is now in town. Anything I should know?" she said, sounding irritated.

"Nothing. There's nothing to say."

"Georgy's friend at Bombay Sentinel said someone told him you had quit - that he hadn't seen you for months."

"That's true. I haven't seen Parag for months. But I was working there till a month ago. I've taken leave."

"Why?"

"Just wanted a break."

"For what?"

"Just."

"WILL YOU TELL ME WHY OR NOT?!"

"I've told you before... I'd been asking the boss to let me go on long leave."

"No, you have not!"

"I have. You just haven't been listening, bogged down with your own problems."

"Rubbish! Even Anjali doesn't know!"

"Oh!" I said involuntarily. I hadn't told my best friend, nor did I think Roma devious enough to check with Anjali first. 

"Oh, oh, oh! You remember now, don't you!" Roma said triumphantly.

"Yes. There's no need to get your knickers in a knot. This is precisely the overreaction I wanted to avoid. If the news gets out, every relative I've never heard of is going to ask me what I'm going to live on."

"What are you going to live on?"

"My savings."

"Hah!"

"See!"

"You don't have money!"

I swallowed a retort. My cousin was being rude. It had taken me a long time to muster the courage to ask my boss Leonard D'Silva to let me go on leave without pay.

"Are you looking for another job?" Roma demanded.

"No."

"Why not?"

I felt exasperated. "I'm looking for a rich husband. Oh, but I'm divorced with fish children. Good night, Roma. Let's speak when both of us are in a better frame of mind."

I was going to cut the line, but Roma said, "Wait, wait, WAIT!"

"Yes?"

"Georgy's told his parents."

"Shit!"

"And my parents too, Sweetie! Just fix on a good, unshakeable explanation."

"All of them think I'm an aimless flake!"

"That's true. I just wanted to warn you. Good night."

                                        ******

I glanced at the clock. It was past 2am. I was in deep shit!

I got out of bed. Genie's bedroom door was closed and I walked quietly into the sitting room. In the dim lamplight left switched on for Fish, I could see them bobbing up and down gently, fast asleep.

I picked up my mom's recipe book moved to the window and sat on a chair. I used my book light to re-read my parents' conversation, but couldn't place the person they were talking about. I thought back to 1990 - we were following Papa around the country.

"What are you doing?"

The book and light flew in the air and I fell off my chair in fright. Genie's hands grabbed me and pushed me back into my chair. I trembled, my heart racing madly.

"Wh-Wh-What... a-are you doing?" I said nervously.

"Roma called me."

Shit! 

"She asked me if we were having an affair, were married, whether you had quit your job and how we were surviving without an income. I assumed, she meant yours."

"Shit!" Genie looked angry. I didn't think my cousin would go so far as to drag Genie into it! "Er, I'm sorry about Roma, Genie..."

"Why did you quit your job?"

I struggled to find an appropriate answer. My desire to leave had many elements. "I was unhappy for a long time. I wanted a break..." I said lamely.

"Couldn't you have found another job and then quit?" He asked, his expression softening.

"No. I tried to take a sabbatical but management wouldn't agree. Finally, I just resigned."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Anjali or Roma?"

"Everyone has their own problems and I didn't want their advice, however well meaning it might be."

We sat quietly. I was surprised Fish were still slumbering considering the racket we had just made. "Do you want tea?" Genie asked. The clock said 4:16am.

"You're not going to say anything?" I asked him.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're old enough to know your mind. I'm sure you've thought things through."

I felt panic at my looming empty life and income-less future. "And if I haven't... got a plan?"

"You'll wing it." Genie walked off before I could say anymore. I picked my mother's book off the floor and saw the faded colour photo near it. I trained my light on the photo. My handsome young father had one arm around my mother, who was holding me - a baby then, and his other around his pretty sister Saroj. My cousin Eva looked exactly like her mom in this photograph. Aunty was very pretty in a pink kurta salwar with a long thick braid gracing one shoulder and bangs on her forehead.

I heard Genie coming out of the kitchen. I slipped the picture back into the book and put it on a nearby stool. Everything could wait... including my crazy thoughts.