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.

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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.

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“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.”

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