Fishy Chronicles 58: Fishy Business

“Psst. Stop pfaffing around and leave immediately,” Penaaz hissed at me from the fish tank in the corner of Joy Uncle’s sitting room.

I was seated near the tank now, trying to figure out a way to leave. I was damned if I was going to cook dinner for this lot. Everything was ready except for the pulao, which Roma was supposed to cook but now was insisting her sister Rita make. That meant there was a high probability we could be eating a traditional Malayali meal with bread, instead of rice, and the presence of too many rogue elements at the dinner table meant the meal would be anything but satisfying.
                                      ******

This is a fictional series revolving around the narrator, Fish and Genie.

Fish have a point of view about the state of affairs and insist on action.   

                                       ******

“You’ll have to get going before Aunty begs you to make the pulao,” Gregory said. He swished along the front of the tank, trying to find a better vantage point. 

Fish had watched the proceedings of the previous few hours with great interest. It had proved to be better than a Bruce Lee movie – my sweet-sour tryst with Danny, a potential suitor, a fractious lunch with assorted family, some mosquito bites and more infighting at tea time. I felt sorry for my aunt. Elsa Aunty looked worn out, and she had a bunch of beasts as house guests.

“You should have left as soon as you realised Genie was gone,” Pervez said. He was in a corner, his back to me, beset by abandonment anxiety. He said accusingly to the glass wall in front of him, “But your family is more important to you than Genie.”

“Especially when they are no good for you,” Penaaz, the more outspoken of Fish, groused.

“You’re being harsh,” I said.

“Not what I heard,” she gestured with a fin at the family massed in front of us.

“Please stop.”

“Genie hasn’t responded to our calls. By the time Nobby flies back to the house, it might take a few years – he can only fly so much. Why didn’t you just latch on to Genie’s ear and stay with him, Nobby? You could have kept track of him for us,” Portas said annoyed. Nobby, our mosquito friend, was sitting on my collar. He had been quiet and thoughtful for the last few hours, except while biting those of my relatives he despised.

I turned my head to look at Dimitri. He was my favourite fish, but right now he looked sad. “Dimitri?”

“You need to go back. Find an excuse, like a neighbour called to say there’s the smell of gas at your place. Got to leave in a nice way.”

“Even after the way they’ve been treating her?” Portas said indignantly.

“Yes.”

“You’ve got to find better family, sweetie,” Penaaz said.

I eyed her. What an easy thing to say. How did one find a more convenient family? The ones I had set me on my head and wrung me out, hurt my feelings over and over. My eyes rested on my cousin Roma and best friend Anjali. They were sitting next to each other but angry and not talking. And it was all because of me. Or rather Uncle’s machinations. But I was the easy target, so today I’d have to take the blame.

“Leave your luggage here, so that it looks like you’re coming back,” Dimitri continued. “You can come back for them when things settle down.”

“Shit will hit the fan,” I muttered. People were watching me. They knew I was talking to Fish.

“After all that’s happened, are you still thinking of staying the weekend?” Penaaz was aghast.

Her lover Pervez shot up to the top, “Get out of here fast, sweetie. They’re not good for you. And that man is making googly eyes at everyone but you! That should ring alarm bells.”

Not alarm bells, but I had noticed Danny chatting up Anjali and now Rita. I was now nowhere in the picture. Not that I minded. I did, but there wasn’t much I could do.

Nobby hovered over my collar, murmuring, “Dimitri’s right. Message Genie to stay put and you’ll be right over.”

“What makes you think he’s still there?”

There was silence in the tank and Nobby tucked himself into the back of my right ear. We continued to listen to Aunty beg her daughters to make a pulao.

I went into the kitchen and looked at my messages. Glory Aunty, our elderly friend in Peaceful Society, had messaged back. Genie hadn’t yet returned home. He had left hours ago and now I felt tense. 

I measured out the ingredients and started peeling vegetables.

Elsa Aunty came in, looked at me in surprise and then put her arms around me in a hug. She kissed my cheek, “Thank you, mol.”

She started opening the cupboards and pulling out spice containers.

I sighed. Things would have to wait. I couldn’t leave Aunty alone with these idiots.

But, a plan was forming.
                                                                  ******

Fishy Chronicles 57: Cakes And Combat

I called and messaged Genie several times but got no response. Fish were upset, but we agreed to stay quiet until we returned home. I wasn’t going to stay at Uncle’s place for the weekend. I felt taken advantage of. He had played a dirty trick on me and now I couldn’t bear to look at him even though I seethed.

Post lunch, there was forced small talk and prolonged silences. Beasty and Rajiv took jibes at me, but I had lost interest in retaliating. Some jibes later, I saw Baby Uncle glare at Beasty who then kept her mouth shut. I couldn’t believe my lamb of an uncle could quell his grizzly bear wife with a look. I had to get to know Baby Uncle better.

Listening to the murmurs, I learned more scary relatives would be turning up for dinner. 

Danny and his parents were staying as they were related to close relations – a ‘thing’ among Syrian Christians. We had to be close to in laws and their in laws and everyone in between and on the periphery – the more family, the merrier. 

My cousin Rita finally turned up and seemed oblivious to the awkwardness. She did, however, ask me about Genie.

"Your dad chased him away," I said into the sudden silence.

An evil squawk sounded and Beasty bristled, "He had no business being here!"

"So why did Uncle invite him... and to stay... especially when he knew Danny was here and none of you approved of Genie's presence!" I felt a hand grab the back of my neck and squeeze. I glared at Roma.

"Joy would do no such thing!" Beasty burst out.

"Clearly you don't know Joy Uncle very well."

"Stop being rude to your aunt!" Joy Uncle burst out.

"Which one?" I said after a pause. I heard a laugh, and saw Danny smile. Anjali gave me a thumbs up. I wasn't keen to let Uncle get away with anything... today.

"All of them!" Uncle roared.

"Strange. I'm not being rude to any of them. Just stating facts. Don't know why you're taking it the wrong way."

"Silence!"

"Er, I don't know. Kind of difficult to do in the current scenario."

"QUIET!"

I laughed. And then stopped myself. Shit, what was I doing. I felt Roma trying to haul me off my chair. Anjali jumped towards me and angrily pulled Roma's hands off my collar. 

"Stop that, Roma! She's right. Why invite us if you're going to ambush us. This could have been handled more privately, but it seems to be happening with some regularity. Like the Lonavala trip – did you have to get Genie there and insult him? He was going to get to know about Danny eventually... or anyone else you cared to pull out of your wig. Did you think he wouldn't make himself scarce if he knew? Or are you afraid he's going to make off with her heart. Why would you care? You guys stopped caring a long time ago, and you've barely made an effort to keep her close since Uncle and Aunty died."

There was pin drop silence. I grabbed Anjali. Everything she'd said was what I thought all the time. I hadn't shared it with her because Roma was our best friend. I shook my head. Please, please, Anjali. Don't say anymore.

"I have always been there for my niece," Uncle said defensively. "She has stayed away, disobeyed me... been very difficult. Never takes my advice."

"Is that why you invited Genie and me too. So we could be embarrassed in the process?" 

"That's my dad you're talking to!" Roma said angrily.

Anjali turned around. "I know, Roma. You could have warned us, but you didn't. Why didn't you?"

Roma opened her mouth and closed it. She shifted her angry gaze at me. I turned away. 

When the silence extended painfully, I felt Elsa Aunty touch my shoulder. "Mol, I need your help in the kitchen."

  

We worked silently, organising things for dinner. Elsa Aunty's calls to her daughter Rita fell on deaf ears and Roma fumed, her body stiff and angry. 

My aunt took the container of flour from Roma's hands and put it in mine. My mood lifted slightly. At least in cooking, Aunty trusted me. When Roma left the kitchen, Elsa Aunty murmured, “Don’t take things to heart, mol. Your uncle is just being himself.” Uncle had been an unadulterated jerk. I wanted to scream so at his wife, who knew it but continued to maintain he was misunderstood.

After so many years, I still couldn’t figure out I was being manipulated. I trusted too much. I hated that Uncle had dragged Genie into the mess. I had found the invitation to stay at Uncle's home suspicious, but had thought my relatives were having a gradual change of heart towards my parents’ former man Friday. Genie was now my friend – a friend who had been living with me for about a year. I had derived comfort from his presence, but my relatives thought we were living in sin.

I dreaded to think they had chased Genie away for good. I glared at Roma. She was one of my best friends, but she was also her daddy’s stooge. Invective ricocheted in the recesses of my skull – contained only by the feeling that letting loose would get me into more trouble. 

I glared at Aunty, who seemed unnerved by my silent aggression. I turned away and started mixing the batter. 

                                                                     ****** 

This is a fictional series about the Suriani*, Mumbai-based narrator. She realises she has been manipulated and embarrassed by her uncle at a family gathering. 

Despite spending much of the afternoon feeling sorry for herself, she finds a way to strike back.

                                                                     ******

I sliced the ripe plantain, ground the cinnamon and nutmeg, mixed the sugar into the batter and let my hands swim in the batter, wiggling my fingers. I usually used a spoon for this, but now I felt like annoying everyone as much as I could.

From the corner of my eyes I saw a look of disgust cross my gentle aunt's face. She opened her mouth to say something but sighed and left the kitchen.

Roma hated cooking, bogged down by her responsibilities and her disinterest in household chores. I had wanted to do a Cordon Bleu course. When I did have the courage to tell my parents, they had been agreeable. Only the thought of me going far away for some years had bothered them. They had spoken to Uncle about it and he had laughed. He had trashed my plans, pooh-poohed my ambitions and quickly painted lurid pictures of me being loose in Paris and doing a can-can at the Cirque de Soleil. If my parents had thought logically, they'd have realised their 'pumpkin princess' would never have made it even through the auditions because she was of average Indian height – she'd have qualified as a midget in France – and chubby. Several weeks later, my Uncle began to bombard my parents with marriage proposals for me. Months later, I was married at barely 23.

My marriage wasn't the only thing I had lost. In those distressing years, my parents had fallen ill and died much before their prime. Sometimes I resented my cousins for having 'live' doting parents, and I resented Uncle for my feelings of loneliness and the sense of being adrift.

Anjali had told me to get over it – that there was nothing I could do to change things. “Look at it this way. You’re free now. They have no hold over you. They only did when your parents were alive. If you switch off your phone and ignore Uncle, you can go ahead and do what you want.”

A valid point. Though I was very scared to do so initially, I sometimes didn't pick up my uncle’s calls – caller id had to be the best part about modern technology. It annoyed my uncle and I felt better. I was skirting his authority and fingering him in some indefinable way. Sometimes Uncle bested me – he used Aunty or Roma's phone.

I fried a batch of etheka (plantain) appams* and called Aditya. My five-year old nephew immediately tried to pick up a fried plantain but it was too hot. “I will give you another plate, my darling. First serve these... only,” I held his chin to get his attention, “only to Betsy Aunty, Rajiv Uncle and Appachan*? Not to Baby Uncle and the others. OK, sweetie?”

Aditya looked at me thoughtfully. Then nodded. I quickly fried the next batch and waited. A while later, Aditya came back with the empty plate. I arranged several smaller etheka appams on the plate and sent him back. “Serve these to the rest of the guests, but not to Betsy, Rajiv or Appachan. OK?”

Aditya looked confused, but nodded. I smiled to myself. After all the plantain had been fried, and served, I washed my hands and joined my cousins in the sitting room. Uncle, Rajiv and Beasty eyed me coldly. The others were still chewing and looked happy.

Anjali sat beside me, splitting the last etheka appam with Aditya. “Why are the three pricks giving you the stink eye?” she said, nonchalantly returning their stare.

“Their ethekas were special.”

“Oh?”

“Sugar-free ethekas.”

I felt Anjali turn to me, “Mine were sweet.”

I smiled at the three beasts. “I know.”

“So?”

I leaned closer and murmured into her ear, “I coated unripe plantain with plain flour and gave it a slight fry.”

“Isn’t that inedible… like next to horrible?”

“Yes.”

Anjali choked on her sweet fried plantain, laughing, and crying. She wagged her index finger at me and then quickly curled it back into her fist. She put her arm around my neck and said, “You’re an idiot. The three of them are going to get even.”

“They’ll spend all of dinner on tenterhooks, wondering if I served them shit.”

Anjali sank her face into my neck and guffawed. After she had attracted everyone’s attention, I gave her my handkerchief to wipe away the tears.

I decided to stay for dinner. I was going to have fun feeding the three goats. 

But before dinner, I had to get in touch with Genie.

                                                                     ******

Appachan (in Malayalam) – Grandfather 

Etheka appam – a sweet fried plantain dish popular in Kerala, South India

Suriani – Syrian Christians from Kerala

PS - Since I'm sitting it out at home, these Chronicles will be belted out faster. Stay tuned.

Fishy Chronicles 56: The Unravelling

Photo: A. Peter

The phone rang. Fish.

“Are you going to take the call?” Danny asked.

To those who don’t know, Danny was invited to Joy Uncle’s home to meet me. Except I didn’t know. To escape my relatives (FC54), I got him into my car and drove off (FC55). Now, I was on my way back and dreading the drama.

Though I was attracted to Danny, I was a mess. At the beach he had asked pointed questions and my answers seemed feeble. I drove slowly and wondered how I would make this man understand my crazy household without judging me. How would I explain Genie. How was I going to explain Fish and my need to talk to them all the time. Genie had wheeled their tank into a corner and Joy Uncle had been annoyed.

“Do you want me to pick it up? Is that the name of a man or woman?” Danny said looking at the name flashing across the screen. After a long pause, Danny said, “Just curious.”

“It’s a friend. No need to pick up the phone.”

But the phone wouldn’t stop ringing and finally Danny answered it. “Hello… Hello… Hello, is anyone there?”

I tried not to smile, I had heard a babble in the couple of seconds Danny swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear. He had heard the noises too and looked puzzled when no one spoke.

He switched it off and put my phone on the dashboard. It started ringing again. He answered again and there was silence. He stared at the screen and then looked at me and I smiled involuntarily. “I think the person isn’t going to talk to me.”

I nodded, smiling.

“Who’s Fish?”

I shook my head and concentrated on the road.

“A boyfriend?”

“No.”

“A colleague… an ex colleague?”

“No.”

“A lady friend with an unfortunate name?”

I laughed. “No. Sorry, just a friend.”

“Why didn’t he talk to me?”

I frowned. Just like a man to misunderstand… to assume it was a man. But the ‘men’ in my fish tank outnumbered the lady – four to one. “I don’t know. Very shy. Don’t like strangers.”

“Is he a relative?”

“Yes... a very close one.”

“Oh. Family know him then.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What manner is that?”

“Er, the family won’t speak about him because he’s had issues… and has multiple personalities – he thinks he’s several people. It’s really complicated. Please don’t tell anyone. The family gets upset when I talk to Fish.” Technically all true. Everyone got upset when I talked to Fish. The family thought I had mental health challenges because I spoke to Fish and they had names. And no one, except for Genie, Anjali and my cousin Roma, knew how frequently we spoke. Plus, Fish were all full of personality.

“Righttt. Is Fish at your Uncle’s place?”

“Yes. I mean, no. You’ll probably see… him… but not notice. No one talks about him. He’s a dirty secret.”

“What’s his real name?” Danny said, after staring at the speeding and slowing trees from his window. I tried to weave in and out of traffic. I had got a call from Elsa Aunty, reminding me to come home. By her nervous tone I knew Joy Uncle was working himself into a rage. I dearly hoped Rajiv and Beasty would bear its brunt.

“Oh… don’t really know. Fish became his pet name.”

“That’s strange. Close family would know each other’s names.”

“Yes. But I call many of my cousins by their pet names, and don’t know their Christian names…”

“Hmmm.”

“What do you do, Danny?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, where do you work and live, etc, etc. Do you have kids?”

“Aha. Finally! You’ve started asking the questions you were supposed to ask.”

“I don’t think you asked me those questions.”

“I did, but you shut me down. Plus, you didn’t give me specifics.”

“Like?”

“Kids? Etc.”

“Beasty Aunty didn’t tell you?”

I heard a chuckle. “Do you mean Betsy Aunty? Beauty’s mom did.” Mercy Aunty was my cousin Rajiv’s mother-in-law.

“Basically, you know everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

Danny nodded, not ashamed at the inequity of the situation. “Yes. I know you’ve been divorced a few years. No kids. You have, or had, a job, and you live by yourself.”

“Bravo. Now your turn.”

“I’m divorced. No kids. I have a job in Chennai, but I have moved around.”

“Didn’t you want kids?”

“I was married only about a year.”

“Oh?”

We were silent for a while, until I asked, “Why did it end so quickly?”

“I found out she was in love with someone, but was forced into a marriage with me.”

“So… you divorced her for being in love with someone before you?”

“No. We were emotionally distant. Plus I was in the US, and I couldn’t take her with me immediately. And…”

“And?”

“And she couldn’t get along with my parents.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My in-laws had hated me, they had made my life a living hell, but I had stuck it out. Our marriage had still unravelled.

“Er, that’s grounds for a divorce? Wouldn’t things have improved once she’d got to the US?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“Yes. If she’d been able to forget him. But she couldn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

It sounded like bullshit to me. “Er, and then what?”

“Nothing. We agreed to part.”

I had no words because it sounded complicated. But what could a divorcé really say about divorce that sounded positive. It sounded bad any which way you approached it – you were a born failure for not sticking it out. My phone rang again.

“I think you should pick up the phone,” Danny said.

“Why?”

“Maybe Fish wants something urgently.”

“I doubt it.”

“You said he was very delicate.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“Right. I’ll talk to them when I get back.”

“Him.”

“Him who?”

“Fish!”

“Oh.” I finally remembered I had squeezed all five of my darlings into one disturbed individual.

Danny grabbed my phone, pressed the green answer button and pushed the phone into my ear. “Hello, Fish, I’ll talk to you at home.”

“What’s wrong with right now?” Penaaz demanded.

“Is he any good?” Portas said.

“Genie’s gone,” Dimitri said mournfully. “He didn’t say anything before he left.”

“He won’t pick up his phone. Why is that yob picking up yours?” Pervez said.

“He’s not a yob,” I defended Danny weakly, afraid he would hear Fish’s side of the conversation. “Where are you calling from? The sitting room?” I hoped they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves at Uncle’s place. Fish talking on a phone in a fish tank would instantly attract the wrong kind of attention.  

“We’re hiding behind the shrubs. When are you back? Uncle and Beasty look chuffed with the state of affairs. Everyone was happy to hear you took Danny away in your car. Looks like they have a wedding all planned out. Are they on the right track, my dear?” Gregory, the smartest fish in the tank, asked.

I glanced at Danny, who was watching me. “Er, I don’t know. I’ll talk to you when I return.”

“Is it too early to say?”

“Yes.”

“Then you didn’t like him.”

“I can’t really say.”

“Never mind. Avoid the pot holes, you don’t want him to call you a woman driver.” Gregory ended the call despite the protests in the background.

                                               ******

This is a fictional series about the narrator, her parents’ former man Friday Genie and her former pet fish. They have followed her to her uncle’s home to find that she has been ambushed by a potential suitor - a play sneakily set up by her uncle Joy.

Only matters come to a head when she is questioned about Genie.

                                                ******

I rang the doorbell nervously.

“Well, well, well, the prodigal daughter returns,” Rajiv opened the door wide.

I groaned. There was a large silent audience staring at us. Everyone looked like they were ready to burst.

Aunty waved us all towards the dining table. Danny washed his hands and immediately sat next to Anjali. Beauty pushed me into the chair beside him. I usually helped to serve, eating with my cousins later, but today Roma and her sister-in-law Beauty were serving and the elders and Danny’s parents sat at the table with us.

It was uncomfortable because Danny’s parents and my great uncle and aunt kept smiling at us. I remembered the day I met my ex. It had been more promising and the mood very light when we had had our chat. I had smiled and blushed. I was not blushing now. If anything, I was leery of any sort of commitment.

But it was what Danny started asking Anjali that had me breathless. He asked her what she did. “Oh, a writer. Does it pay?”

“Yes. So far.”

“Where do you live?”

“Near Almora. I’ve rented a place there.”

“So how come you’re in Mumbai?”

“I have work with my publishers. Plus I wanted to spend more time with her,” she gestured at me, “after Amritsar.”

“Amritsar?”

“Yes. We were there about a week ago.”

“Your husband too?”

“Husband?” Anjali watched me choke on my cutlet. Roma slapped my back hard – with unnecessary anger, I thought.

“Yes. The fair man with the long hair… Genie? Where is he?”

“He’s not my husband… and he seems to have gone home.”

“But she said…” Danny’s thumb pointed in my direction. There was a killer silence forming and my relatives had stopped eating.

“I assure you, Genie is not my husband,” Anjali said, mulish in her denial. I should have remembered Anjali would never lie for me. Only I never thought Danny would ask.

“He’s your boyfriend?”

“If it gives you a thrill. Sure, why not,” Anjali smiled, her dimples dancing, and now for the first time enjoying herself amidst these difficult people.

“Who told you Genie is Anjali’s husband?” Beasty Aunty demanded, a small bit of chicken shooting out of her mouth. Danny moved his head to avoid it.

“She did,” Danny pointed at me again.

“He’s her servant,” Rajiv said from the other end of the table.

“Not a servant,” Anjali shook her head emphatically.

“Genie Uncle is staying in Aunty’s house,” Aditya, Roma’s little son, said helpfully into the silence.

“Which Aunty?” Danny smiled at Aditya.

Aditya pointed at me.

A commotion broke out – Joy Uncle and Beasty Aunty talking loudly at the same time, Danny’s parents looking disturbed and talking to themselves and then turning to Elsa Aunty.

“Silence!” Joy Uncle shouted and then turned to me, “Explain yourself, child!”

“Sorry, I-I couldn’t figure out how to explain Genie…” I said, trying to hold Danny’s gaze. Anjali looked at me, the question in her eyes. Why did you say such a dumb thing?

“Genie… used to work for my parents. He was like a man Friday. He lived with us,” I babbled.

“Highly unusual, don’t you think? People would put a different twist to it… now that your parents aren’t around,” Rajiv smirked.

“Like the twisted way you are,” Anjali bristled. “Just any which way it can sound dirty.”

“It reeks of dirty without having to say it!”

“Shut up, you two! You!” Joy Uncle turned to me. “How long is Genie staying?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Well tell him to leave. It’s been long enough!”

“How long exactly?” Beasty asked.

“None of your business,” someone muttered.

“Who said that! How rude! Show your OUCH!” Beasty swatted her face and hit her nose hard. “OUCCHH! You have mosquitos here. Kill them! Kill them!”

“NO!” The tank lid flew open, hit the wall behind it and slammed shut again. Bubbles filled the tank, a low angry roar coming from the tank and I heard some choice swear words.

I stood up. Nobby! I could see my sweet darling mosquito and a couple of his friends biting Rajiv, Beasty and Joy Uncle with a vengeance.

Samir, Rajiv’s son, came running with a large electric fly swatter. “No, Samir, no! Give me that.” I pulled it out of his hands. Rajiv stood up and grabbed the bat from behind me, viciously pinning me against him in a most unpleasant way. “Let me go, you asshole!”

He shouted in my ear, “What is this business with the mosquitos! You never kill them, they are always in your house and they never seem to bite you!”

I tried to jab my elbow into Rajiv, but he was stronger and enjoying the uneven fight.

“Stop it, stop it!” Aarav and his mother tried to push his uncle away. I heard chairs skidding back and suddenly Rajiv yowled in pain and my neck was free of his vicious grip. I fell into Baby Uncle’s arms and we lost our balance and we fell against Joy Uncle, who gave us a mighty shove backwards.

“You idiot!” Joy Uncle shouted at me. He looked up behind me and closed his mouth slowly. Danny had a tight hold of Rajiv and towered over him. His eyes bored into mine. Rajiv and Anjali were looking daggers at each other standing next to Danny.

I shrank from the coldness of Danny’s look. I moved closer to Baby Uncle. “There’s nothing between Genie and me. We’re friends. He’s staying with me while he sorts out his business.”

“What business?” Joy Uncle asked. It was a strange, calm tone. Anjali looked at me. She had noticed it too. Uncle had wanted this all along. It was a brutal way to confront me. I felt pity for Genie.  

“His business. H-his many businesses. If my friends want to stay with me, I’m not going to stop them.”

“Why him?” the question was from Danny. “Don’t you know how it looks.”

I opened my mouth trying to think. “I can’t explain it in an acceptable way to you. He was there when my parents and I needed him the most.”

“Was he the reason your marriage ended?”

“No.”

“Is he going to move out soon?”

My eyes darted to Anjali. “I can’t say… I haven’t asked him.”

“That has to be an extraordinarily useless answer! Full of anything you want to make it,” Rajiv said spitefully.

“Goat,” someone said.

“Who said that!” Joy Uncle shouted, upset at the spate of insults directed at his favourite child.

“You’ll never know.”

“Show yourself!”

“Shut up!”

Uncle screamed in rage, a maniacal sound, and turned around, his fury fizzling out quickly when he saw his grandchildren clinging to their mothers and the blank disturbed looks all around him. Elsa Aunty pulled timidly at his arm, softly begging him to stop. Anjali was now in front of me, pushing off Baby Uncle’s arms and putting hers around me and hugging me tightly. I felt so grateful someone was there for me. I looked at Danny and felt unnerved. His face was angry. Would he ever believe me?

Beauty cleared her throat, “Let’s all sit down… and… finish the meal. Mummy and…” Beauty’s head tipped in my direction, “went to a lot of effort to… cook it.”

No one moved. Beauty glared at her husband Rajiv. But it was Baby Uncle who began to push his wife towards her chair and showed Danny’s parents back to theirs. Danny moved to his chair and Anjali and I followed.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

                                           ******

Fishy Chronicles 55: Uncle's Man

Photo: A. Peter

“Where are we going?” Danny asked. 

I had met Danny at Joy Uncle’s place. Apparently, my uncle had seen it fit to arrange a meeting with a man without my knowledge. To get my prying relatives off my back I had got Danny into my car and driven off before my cousin Roma could follow.

“To the beach,” I said, looking into the rearview mirror. There wasn’t a chance Roma would give chase. I had moved fast. I turned to look at Danny, Beasty Aunty’s great nephew, and felt a jolt. He was watching me and smiling.

“You told me that already. Which beach?” he said.

“You said you weren’t familiar with Mumbai.” 

“I’m familiar with the Chowpatty and Juhu beaches.”

“You’ve been to both?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Just read about them,” a wide grin. I narrowly avoided hitting a car. Maybe he was fingering me for incessant questions. Tit for tat.

My phone rang. Roma! Now I would have to face a shitload of consequences.

“Aren’t you going to take that call? It’s from your cousin… unless you have a friend called Roma,” Danny said.

“Nah. She’ll give up in a bit.”

“Won’t that make things worse?”

“Probably. But why sweat the small things.”

“Why, indeed.”

I turned to look at Danny but he was looking straight ahead, calmness personified. I was beginning to regret this exercise of running away.

“You know,” Danny said, “your cousins could think we are eloping.”

I braked hard at a red light and we were thrown forward, but held back by the seatbelts. I rubbed my collarbone where the seatbelt had bitten me. I saw Danny inhale slowly.

“S-sorry about that, Danny. We can turn back if you want.”

“What do you think will happen when we go back?”

“Nothing will happen to you. You’re the innocent one here.”

“I meant, what would happen to you?”

“Er… I-I thought I’d drop you off and go home.”

Danny’s eyes bored into mine, “What about the man and woman who came with you?”

“Them… yes... I’ll figure out something.” I waited for an answer, but Danny did not reply, so I asked, “Do you want me to turn back?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why was I trying to rub him the wrong way. I wanted to talk to this man some more.

“I’d like to see one of those beaches. You still didn’t say.”

“Say what, Danny?”

“Say which beach we were visiting.”

“Juhu Beach.”

“Why this beach particularly?”

“It’s posh.”

“Oh, really. How?”

“All the Bollywood stars live in Juhu and they come to the beach to do their morning deeds, swim in the sea for exercise and take their baths at the same time,” I said to see how he’d react.

He smiled slowly. “So… why is it posh if it’s mucked up.”

“Star-quality shit.”

Danny laughed. And I felt a frisson of excitement – something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

My phone rang again. 

“Are you going to take the call?” Danny pointed at my phone. It vibrated with the urgency of Uncle’s irritation. The rats had already tattled and we hadn’t been gone 30 minutes.

Danny took the phone and I watched, my mouth dry with horror, as he swiped the screen, put the phone to his ear and said hello. I heard Uncle bark and I wanted to cringe.

“Hi, Uncle. Yes, she’s beside me... driving... Sure, I’ll ask her to come back. But, we’re nearly at the beach... Why are we going to the beach?” Danny winked at me, “Because I asked her to take me there, Uncle. ... Juhu Beach… I thought I could catch a glimpse of a Bollywood star. Yes... I’m a big fan of Amitabh Bachchan. She’s taking me to Amitabhji’s favourite dosa joint, right opposite his house.”

I couldn’t bear this any longer. I eased out of traffic and parked on the side of the road. By now, Uncle seemed to be tiring of Danny’s positivity. I heard a silence and then a sharp order. “Okay, Uncle. Just as soon as we’ve had dosas and walked on the beach, I’ll ask her to return home.” There was an impatient click.

Danny handed me the phone. “Right. You owe me a dosa and a walk on the beach.”

“Er, you don’t want to watch Amitabh Bachchan’s house?”

“Not really. Are you a fan?”

“No.”

“Are you?”

“No. But for Uncle’s peace of mind, and to make sure your neck is not on the line, I’ll be Amitabhji’s fan.”

“It wasn’t necessary, you know. Joy Uncle would have just chewed me out and forgotten about it by dinnertime.”

“Yes, but you’ve forgotten Aunty Betsy and the audience. I don't want to give them something to remember. Plus, I don’t like the idea of you being chewed out.”

I couldn’t make out what was going on, but I felt good. I could feel the blush all the way between my toes, but, what the heck, Danny and I were going to eat dosas and spy on the Big B.

For now.

                                        ******
This is a fictional series about the narrator, who lives with her former manservant and pet fish deep in Mumbai’s suburbs. Her uncle has set up a meeting with a potential groom without her knowledge. To avoid her spying relatives, she takes the man on a drive. All goes well until they reach Bollywood star Amitabh Bachchan’s bungalow.

                                        ******

“You know, I met him once,” Danny told me.

“Really? When, how?”

We were standing under a large, shady tree in Juhu. We had stretched two elastic dosas over an unbearable hour. Finally, the owner of the South Indian restaurant asked us to leave. We had got a seat diagonally opposite Jalsa – the Bachchan family’s home. I was glad to give up on my half-eaten dosa.

“At a launch. I was one of a group of people assigned to take care of him. I was starting out at the company then. Mr Bachchan was good fun.”

I nodded. Here I was a die-hard Mumbaikar always looking to meet a Bollywooder, and Danny, an outsider, had met the Great B easy peasy.

“What are you thinking?” Danny asked.

“How unfair it is that you get to meet him and I couldn’t… haven’t so far.” I looked at Jalsa’s tall wall with a jaded look. Was the Big B really worth it? Could I scale that wall? Maybe Genie could help.

I gasped. I’d left Genie and Anjali at Joy Uncle’s place. Who knew what my idiot family would say and do to them.

“What happened?” Danny grabbed my arm.

“Sorry, Danny, I just realised I left my friends at Uncle’s place. At their mercy. Might be a harrowing experience.”

“Aren’t you overreacting?”

I was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I doubt Uncle would be rude to your friends – they had nothing to do with you whisking me away.”

“I don’t want them to be easy targets.”

“I don’t think Uncle would be unreasonable.”

“I’ve known the family longer... all my life. I don’t want to take that risk.”

“Besides, they look capable of looking after themselves. I say we walk on the beach a bit and then turn back. Shall we say half an hour around the beach and then we head back?”

“Sure.” I looked at Jalsa and thought I saw something move in a window. I felt a hand on my arm and a pull. I moved reluctantly towards my car.

“Do you want to ask me anything?” Danny asked at the beach.

“What do you mean?”

He looked taken aback but then smiled kindly. “Before we go back, would you like to ask me anything?”

“Why?” I said. The sun was shimmering distantly on the sea. The heat of the day was receding and it would be sundown in a couple of hours. I looked up at Danny. He was red from the heat and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and slowly slid downwards. A couple of his blue shirt's buttons were undone, revealing chest hair trapped under a white vest.

“You really don’t want to get married, do you?” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

I stopped in the sand. Shit. We were having the talk. “I’m sorry, I was caught unawares. I don’t know why Uncle invited my friends too.”

“Who’s the man?”

“Er, they’re friends of mine.” How was I to explain Genie.

“Are they married?”

“Y-yes.”

“Okay. The lady looks very interesting. What does she do?”

I felt my fizz evaporate. “She’s a writer. Lives in Uttaranchal Pradesh.”

“Do they have children?”

“Who?”

“Your friends.”

“Er, er, no.”

“What does the man do?”

“He runs a business.”

“Ok.”

“What do you do?”

“I... don’t have a job... right now.”

“Why not?” Danny shifted, so that his back was to the sun. I couldn’t see his face clearly.

“I quit working a few months ago.”

“Why?”

“I wanted a break… to do... and see... things.”

“Are you?”

“Not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “The money I saved was in a bank that collapsed recently (FC 43, 44). You may have seen the news…” Danny nodded. He knew. “Well, I lost most of my money. So, I can’t do as I planned.”

“Which is?”

“Which is what?”

“What exactly did you plan?”

“Mostly travelling, some freelance.”

“You didn’t really think things through,” Danny said. I felt discomfort creep up, more because it was closer to the truth. “What happened? A bad boss? A love affair gone wrong?”

My mouth turned down. “No love affair. I just wanted to get away from the office.”

“You could have got another job and then quit.”

“True.”

“Why quit with nothing in hand?”

“I did have something in hand. My savings. Travel money…”

“No.”

“Yes, dammit!”

“Okay… where did you plan to go?”

“Er, the US… backpack around Europe…” 

“Why lie?’

I felt deflated and anger rise slowly. I opened and closed my mouth but couldn’t find the words to fight back.

I turned away and walked into the sea. I felt Danny walk behind me.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Anjali, “Good idea taking that hunk for a ride with you. But did you know he was going to be at Uncle’s? Looks like Uncle knew what he was doing.”

“What do you mean?” I wrote back.

“Genie’s gone.”

I struggled to find something to write but couldn’t. The phone vibrated again.

“Take your time at the beach. I don’t think Genie is coming back. Not today, in any case. And it looks like that’s what Joy Uncle wanted.”

                                        ******