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.
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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.   

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“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.
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