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| Photo credit: A. Peter |
Genie got out of his room. We stood transfixed and then
we smiled, but he ignored us and walked quickly to the front door and left.
I had tried to offer him breakfast, but hadn’t been
able to get the words out. Anjali and I rushed to the door and looked through
the peephole.
We saw my voluptuous neighbor Zeba, who was madly in love
with Genie, intercept him. Now Genie was smiling and looked like he had never
been a sourpuss in his life. Zeba moved closer to him. She
was wearing another low-necked caftan – yellow with small blue flowers.
“Seriously, what has Zeba got that we don’t?” Anjali
said, trying to get a better view.
“Mountainous boobs and oodles of charm,” I said. It bothered me that a minute ago Genie had been cold to us and here he was cultivating
the enemy in the corridor… barely two feet away from my door.
“How does Zeba always know when Genie’s going to step
out of the flat?”
“Sixth sense… spying from her peephole.” The same way
Anjali and I had spied on our early teen crush Tony Mascarenhas. The strapping
stud had been three years older than us in school, and we had watched and
stalked him for years, even after he had had a string of girlfriends. Now he
was married to a beautiful homemaker, had three pretty children and was a VP at
a tech company. Sometimes we pulled out the school photo, that I had flicked
from my cousin Rajiv’s school album, and we’d wonder what we saw in the then hairy teenaged
Tony. We had moved on, but we still envied Tony his perfect life.
“You don’t say,” Anjali said with a trace of sarcasm. “She’s
not even wearing a face mask. Neither is he. What do they think, their love will fob
off the virus?”
“Can you do a revenge character in your next book... with Zeba as the villain, please.”
“What will that get you?”
“Salvation.” I pushed Anjali aside to look again. Genie
had turned and was moving down the stairs.
“I doubt it. It’s a rare sort who can recognize salvation
when it hits. You, my darling, are not that person. Come on, let’s see where he’s
going,” Anjali moved quickly to the sitting room windows.
We watched Genie walk out of the building. A woman
from the opposite building waved a dishcloth at him, smiling shyly. He nodded
her way. A couple of women stepped out from ground floor apartments and chatted
with him, he stopped to talk and then looked up. We were caught unawares. But
not for long. We waved at him and blew kisses, but he looked away and the women
with him glared at us. We continued to send noisy kisses and waved a small table
cloth at them.
I looked up and caught Aunty Glory watching us from
behind her potted plants and through the haze of cigarette smoke. I waved at
her and she slowly raised an arm.
I moved back into the room, embarrassed at being caught
trying to bully Genie.
“Are you mad? Do you think anyone can bully Genie… you
of all people? But yes, we can piss off a saint if we want to.”
“Aunty Glory hates me bothering Genie… such a soft
corner for him,” I muttered, peeping at her through a gap in the curtains. She
stubbed out the cigarette and went into her sitting room.
“Every woman in this housing society has a soft corner
for Genie,” Anjali grumbled. She rushed into the bedroom, opened my cupboard
and pulled out my father’s binoculars. He’d bought it on a trip abroad and we
had spent many happy hours watching flamingoes in Mumbai.
Anjali trained the pair of binoculars first on Aunty’s
flat and then quickly moved out of sight behind the curtains. “Shit! Aunty
and Uncle are watching us with binoculars from their sitting room.”
“Well, don’t be shy. Wave and smile.” I grabbed
the binoculars and trained them across the courtyard into Aunty’s home. I felt shock
jolt me seeing them beaming at me and I waved. Then I turned the binoculars
onto the road outside our housing society. Genie was nowhere. I handed Anjali the binoculars.
******
This is a fictional series about the 30-something narrator and her household, comprising a former man Friday and pet fish – both back from travelling the world.
******
I had also begun calling Aunty Glory and Uncle John every day. I needn’t
have worried. Peaceful Society’s committee had swung into action and many of
the buildingwallas had adopted an elder. I dropped off meals at the Gonsalves's door everyday and chatted for a bit standing at a safe distance.
But we were now stuck at home with Genie, who refused
to respond to notes slipped under his door and awesome mutton curry. I had never
known Genie to be so angry. And I felt like a real jerk. We heard music come from his room,
sometimes some banging, and every now and then he stepped out to grab a book or
the broom and dustpan. Often, when we came face to face, he’d flick the untidy living room or bedroom behind us with a disdainful look that
screamed “PIG!” and would then turn and disappear into his room.
“How long can he stay cooped up in there?” Anjali
asked me several times. His anger was unsettling and unfathomable. She had
written him messages, stood at his door and apologized profusely. She stopped
when the music’s volume was turned up. Plus, Fish were annoyed with us. They did
not talk to me for a day, angry at our nosey behavior (A Step Too Far).
Anjali put the binoculars on the coffee table, pushed it
to the side of the room and spread herself on the cool floor. I sighed. “Do you have a deadline,
Anjali? Will this lockdown affect it?”
“No. I mean, I
do have a deadline, but it isn’t immediate. And I don’t know how I will go for my
meetings, or pay the ladies who clean my house.”
“I meant the writing…”
“Hmm. We’ll see.”
I dialled Aunty Glory's number. “Yes, my dear,” Uncle John picked
up.
“See anything interesting through your binoculars,
Uncle?”
“Plenty. Don’t you have enough of Genie at home to
continue spying on him when he leaves?”
“Can’t have enough of him.”
“I’m sure. Why did you call, my dear?”
“Do you need any groceries, detergent, etc, etc, etc?
I’m making my list.”
“Right. Anyone would be irritated with you for going
through their personal belongings,” I froze. “You’ve got to let Genie be for
some time.”
“Er, he told you?” I felt mortified.
“I think you’re taking him for granted. He’s not your
man Friday anymore, doesn’t work for your parents or anyone. He’s his own
person… always was.”
“Er.”
“I’ll write the list. But I’m surprised at you two, my
dear. Especially at you.” The phone went dead.
In all my 30-something years, this was the first time
Uncle John had scolded me – a kind, non-shouty scolding. My face and ears burned at
the idea of Genie confiding about our evil deed to the Gonsalveses.
But what
did I expect, they were good friends.
******
We tried
calling Genie, but he didn’t pick up his phone.
“Do you think
he’s left?” I asked Anjali.
“Left where?”
“I mean, gone.
Taken his stuff and left.”
“Let’s check
his room and see if his things are still here.”
We did the
unthinkable and went into Genie’s room. I rarely entered this room, even though
I was tempted. The room was extremely neat. Tidy paperless surfaces, with no
personal belongings outside. A pink-themed patchwork bedspread my mother and I
had made for Genie covered his bed.
Anjali gingerly
tried the door handles of the cupboard nearest the door. It was locked. “Don’t
you have extra keys for these cupboards? They usually come in doubles and
triples.” She looked at me hopefully.
“Why isn’t
there a mirror here?” Anjali said absentmindedly, drinking in the entire room.
“Oh. One of the
cupboards has a mirror on the inside of the door.”
“Do you think
that’s where he keeps all his toiletries and things?”
It was like the
room had no character… save for the picture of my parents, Genie and I in
happier times. The photograph was in a slim silver folder, the kind that could
be propped up, kept in a pocket or slid into a briefcase. I’d never seen
anything like it in India. I picked it up and stared at my parents. A lump soon
formed in the back of my throat and my eyes blurred. Anjali took the slim
picture frame from my hands and set it down and her arm went around me.
******
This is a
fictional series surrounding the narrator, her parents’ former man Friday Genie
and Fish.
The narrator
and her friend Anjali are unable to contact Genie and enter his room to see if he
has packed and left. Unfortunately, they get carried away.
******
Then she went and
tugged at the handles of all the cupboards. The ones without key holes opened,
revealing Genie’s toiletries, clothes and other things. “If he keeps his
clothes here, what must he be keeping in the locked cupboards?”
That was an
interesting question, because there were two tall cupboards with locks and one
short cupboard with a lock, in addition to a locked steel almirah.
“He only wears
white t-shirts…” I said.
“… white
t-shirts and jeans. And how many cupboards of white underwear can a man have? I
think the cupboards are empty.” She went up to them and knocked. We couldn’t
figure out if the sound was hollow.
“Well, looks
like all his clothes are here. Nothing has gone. Maybe we should check the shoe
rack.” I opened a drawer in his table. Stationery was neatly organised,
instantly putting Anjali and me to shame.
“I really want
him to be my housekeeper,” Anjali mumbled. “And I want to bonk him.”
“Me too. The
tidy part, for the most part.” Except for the numerous bumps in my life, I had
not seen anything ruffle Genie. That included the running of a household. If he
didn’t know cooking when he first entered our home, he did by the time my
parents left this realm. The only plus was I was a better cook.
“You know,
geniuses are like this. Everything in neat rows. Look at this,” Anjali picked
up a box of paperclips. “I bet the clips are in neat rows, spooning each
other.”
“Okay. Open
it.”
We opened it.
There were a couple of coins in them. We stared at the Queen Victoria half
anna. There was another coin in it, but I slapped Anjali’s hand away from it.
“What did you
do that for!”
“We’ve poked
around Genie’s things too much. We have no business doing so. Come on!”
“Yes, Miss Potty-Calling-Miss
Kettley-Black. Where to?”
I walked to the
sitting room. Fish were arguing on the phone. I stopped. It sounded like they
were speaking with Genie.
“When will
you be back?” Penaaz asked.
“You’ve got
to come back,” Pervez said plaintively.
“Who’ll keep
order here? And we may run out of food… or toilet paper… or just… things,”
Portas said.
“You can’t
stay away for long, old man. That Danny business fizzled out long ago. Uncle
Joy was a tiresome old fart. A tiresome, game-playing, manipulative old fart. Fortunately,
our little one hasn’t inherited any of his genes,” Gregory said.
“Please come
back, we’re worried sick. Besides the girls will be alone. What if things get
worse… TV news sounds worse by the hour. It’s safer for you to be here at home
than outside. Please come back soon!” sweet gentle Dimitri said.
“He’s so
annoying and stubborn,” Penaaz grumbled.
“Yes. How
rude of him to cut us off while we were speaking,” Portas said.
“I don’t
think he had a chance to speak at all, with us yammering and cutting him off
every time he spoke,” Gregory said.
That silenced
Fish. I moved into the sitting room, wondering why Anjali wasn’t with me. I
sighed in frustration. She was examining the other coin in the paper clip box
and taking a picture of it. “Anjali, stop that!”
“Stop that,
you! You nearly gave me a fright,” Gregory shouted. I could see Fish hold
their hearts, panting in shock and pressed into the sides of the fish tank.
“Er, sorry,
guys. Do you have any idea when Genie will be back?”
“No,” Penaaz
said.
“Did you call
him?”
There was a
long pause. “No,” Gregory said, looking at the top of my ear and adjusting his
glasses. I looked at the other fish, each one of them was acting innocent.
They had
learned well the fine art of fingering. It didn’t take a lot. I felt my piss
fizz. I wondered what it was. Did they think I only needed to know on a need-to-know
basis. Or I was just a helpless useless nut that needed to be manipulated like
a puppet whenever they wanted. I screamed shrilly in my head, glaring at them
all the while. Idiots!
I looked behind
me. Anjali was now sitting on Genie’s bed and looking through a notebook. She
then lifted a pen, that looked… my God! I sprinted into the room and
grabbed the pen from her hand. “It’s a f****** Mont Blanc. What the eff! Do you
think it’s real?” I put the pen to my nose and sniffed.
“Eek! Do
you have to smell everything, you crackpot! What if he used it to scratch his
balls.”
“Why can’t he
just use his hands like everyone else?” I said, still looking closely at the
pen. It looked like an original. I’d bought a couple of fakes at the Russian
Market in Phnom Penh last year. And I had eyed the originals often enough at
the mall. The markings seemed right. I pulled off the cap – it was a fountain
pen. “You know, I have never seen him use this pen.”
“Maybe he has a
secret journal he likes to write in with a special pen. There are some books
and diaries in this larger drawer here. Shall we look?”
“I think we
should stop touching his things. He may figure out we’ve been rifling through them. Do you think he’s one of those people who remembers the way he leaves
a book or pen in his drawers?”
“I imagine you
mean the drawer in this table and not the other type,” Anjali smirked. I felt
exasperated but also strangely, and reluctantly, titillated. Anjali shrugged
and sighed. “Yeah, I think he’s the sort who’ll remember what went missing and
who’s touched what. I better put it back in his journal.”
“Journal? Give
me that.”
“Don’t know if
it is one.” She showed me a green moleskin diary. It looked like it had been
well thumbed, and the sides of the book and pages looked grimy, though they were blank.
Most of them. Some had words that didn’t make sense.
I had a sense
of foreboding. “Put it back exactly the way you found it, Anjali.” I pushed the
pen and notebook into Anjali’s chest. “We have no business touching Genie’s
things. Put it back, put it back now!”
“Damn right you
shouldn’t be touching my things. Put them down and get out of my room. Now!”
Genie said coldly from the doorway. I felt Anjali gasp and I shrank into her,
feeling intense shame at our actions and being caught. Anjali pushed me and we stood.
She put the pen and book on the table and we walked slowly to the door.
“Very sorry,
Genie. We didn’t mean to,” Anjali said.
“But you did.”
He moved to the side of the doorway to let us pass, then went in and locked the
door behind him.
******
I chafed. Fish were annoyed at me for not reeling in
my anchor and sailing away. Our war of words had attracted attention and Joy
Uncle cleared his throat many times before losing his temper.
“Next time keep your fish at home!”
“There’s no next time,” Portas muttered from the fish tank.
“Yup,” said the lovers, treading water beside Portas.
“Next time, next time, so many promises. Yet we
dust off the mobile tank and come here every time Uncle orders you to. We
should stop visiting, my dear,” Gregory gritted his tiny teeth.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but I still
wanted to finger my father’s brother. “Hard to do now, Uncle.”
“Why?”
“Because you chased away Genie – the one person who
would feed and take care of Fish. Now I will never be able to stay here overnight.
Either they are here with me or we are not here at all.”
There was a groan from the tank and the water swished
menacingly. “Oh, please say we’ll never come back!” Pervez said, actual hope
coming through in his voice. He had been in a state of distress since Genie left
(Uncle’s Man and The Unravelling).
“Shhh!” I couldn’t hear myself thinking.
“Don’t shush me!” Uncle roared.
“Umm, I wasn’t telling you.” I had meant Fish, but I couldn’t
say it out loud. Fish chuckled and moved closer to the glass wall to get a
better look at Uncle.
He was a sight. He was turning pink, and his patrician
face was screwing up painfully. What a pity – he was such a handsome man when
he smiled.
“Were you telling your fish?” he spat out. I stayed
silent. “Why are you silent! Be bold and say what you think!”
“I was telling Fish to keep quiet.”
“Next you will say the moon is maroon.”
“No. But… you just said it.”
I don’t know where the swear word came from, but my
best friend Anjali, Danny and my cousin Rita laughed despite the angry noises coming
from the relatives gathered at Joy Uncle’s house.
My great aunt Beasty tore into me. “You are a horrible,
horrible child.”
“Idiot!” my cousin Rajiv shouted and I bristled.
“Shut up, you!” I howled at Rajiv.
He ran towards me aiming his hand at my face, but he exclaimed
in terror and fell flat on his face. There was a moment of pin-drop silence,
and then absolute commotion. Beasty got up and was confused about whether to
come and hit me or peel her much-loved nephew off the floor. I couldn’t figure
out what had happened. It seemed like someone had tripped Rajiv, but the ones
closest to my cousin had been his sister Rita and… Danny.
No. It couldn’t be.
“Come on, this is our chance. Let’s run for the door!”
Fish shouted.
“Come on!” Gregory said, “Let’s go before
they figure out we’re missing.”
I tried to release the brake of the wheels of the fish
tank, but the lever was stiff and suddenly I felt the light dim. I turned and
stepped back hard into the book shelf behind me. Uncle's face was red and angry and I thought he was going to hit me. I raised my elbow
to ward off a blow. A couple of seconds later, I looked up. He had a faint look
of surprise on his face and had moved back a tad. “You are not leaving. You are
staying until I say you can leave!”
“Tell him that we’re going!” Pervez shouted. Penaaz tread
water, but did not restrain him.
“Got to go, Uncle,” I said.
“Because of Genie?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I need to ask him when he’s leaving. I’ll have to help
him pack.”
There was silence in the room.
“That’s interesting. Do you always help him pack for
his trips?” Uncle said, barely hanging on to his temper.
“If Genie is to leave as soon as you want him to, he will
need my help.” I heard Anjali laugh. I could see Beasty and Rajiv glare at Anjali,
but they were too afraid of her to react more.
“As long as this is the big goodbye, he can take his
time. He’s got the weekend.”
“I don’t know, Uncle. You’re always on his case. He
might cry, and I’ll have to help him blow his nose.”
“You are not going home and that
is final!”
The angry words reverberated around the room and much
as I wanted to retort I couldn’t. I was too embarrassed all this was playing
out in front of an audience.
I pressed against the handle of the bookcase trying to
keep a distance between Uncle and I and felt the pain between my shoulder
blades intensify. I looked at Fish, my eyes filling and finally my tension
spilled out in tears.
“Idiot,” a voice said. “You made her cry!”
“Who said that!” Uncle shouted in the silence.
“You keep asking… and I keep telling you… you’ll never
know, you pig!”
For good measure, water hit Uncle in the eye and he
moved back in a hurry. He opened his mouth angrily and his hand moved
impulsively to the door, but then I started smiling and his mouth closed and
his arm went down.
“You will stay here and help Elsa in the kitchen!” Uncle growled, turned around, glared at everyone, especially at Anjali, and went back
to his armchair.
******
This is a fictional series about the narrator, her parents’
former man Friday and Fish. The narrator is trying to escape her Uncle’s house
but he has foiled her plans. Fish decide something more drastic is needed.
******
When there was a lull in the conversation, someone
switched on the TV. I stood in the kitchen’s doorway feeling stressed.
It felt like Uncle had elaborately planned to introduce
me to a potential suitor – Danny – and insult and drive Genie out of my home. Uncle had made me the laughing stock of the family. Why was he doing this? And now
I was reduced to being a cook, to make up for his daughters’ unwillingness to
don aprons and aid their mother Elsa.
I glared at the guests and at Uncle. He had become a
monster. Why was he so angry at me?
“Come here,” Penaaz ordered. I glared at her, annoyed
at her command.
“Please,” Dimitri, my favourite fish, said. My anger
melted a tad.
“Please, sweetie, come here,” Portas said. “Open the
lid and play with us.”
The idea of dipping my hands in the cool water, and
letting Fish chase away my agitation appealed. I washed my hands at the kitchen
sink and went to the sitting room and opened the lid of the fish tank. I slid
my hands in and Fish rubbed and nuzzled my palms and fingers. I leaned my chin
on the edge of the tank, let my hands float and listened to the TV. I could
feel people watch me, but I didn’t care anymore.
“What’s Wuhan?” Portas asked, trying to catch a glimpse
of the TV.
“The place where that virus originated. According to news
reports, China had a lockdown to contain an epidemic. But the Chinese were too
late and the virus is racing around the world and killing people at a horrific
rate,” Gregory said.
I straightened. Last week Genie had topped up our grocery
reserves and even stored them in the loft. I had joked about him being paranoid.
“We can’t wait until it is too late,” he had said.
“We’ve never been affected – even when it was SARS,
Swine Flu, etc.”
“There have been cases in India, but we were isolated
in many ways. This time, I’m not so sure.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Genie put a finger
on my lips. “Let’s watch the news some more and take precautions. For now, that
means a mask and staying away from public spaces.”
“And you got this information from WhatsApp?”
“From the experts on TV. At worst we have food stocks for a
couple of months.”
I wanted to say more, but held off. And things had
worsened. I wasn’t even sure I should have come to stay this weekend at Uncle’s
place. Anjali and I had tensed every time someone coughed or sneezed. Danny’s
mother had a cold and Anjali and I stayed a safe distance away.
We had been watching the news and worrying about the
spread through Asia, but it was spreading through Italy and parts of Europe like wild fire. I had tried
to buy hand sanitizers at DMart, but staff told me it was being rationed. I could buy only one bottle. I stopped teasing Genie. Perhaps it wasn’t paranoia, but
he was a middle-class hoarder for sure.
I felt a presence near me. Uncle had a strange
expression on his face. I began to feel tense.
“Strange to see you play with your fish. Is this what
Nigel did too?” Nigel Poonawala had given me Fish many years ago. He had owned
the ad agency my ex husband had worked at but Uncle Nigel and I had made an
instant connection.
“He had toys for them. And yes, he spent a lot of time
with his hands in the tank,” I said reluctantly.
“Perhaps I should try. They always hide behind the
bushes in the tank,” Uncle said.
“Wash your hands first, Uncle.”
“Isn’t that extreme?”
“Didn’t you make all your visitors wash their hands
before they handled your newborn grandchildren?”
“Right. You think my germs can kill your fish?” Uncle
smirked.
“Tell him he’s hit the nail on its head, sweetie,” Gregory
said, but Uncle had moved to the bathroom and came back holding up his wet hands
like a surgeon.
“Oh, no, he doesn’t!” Dimitri said and grabbed his
bicycle and started cycling furiously. He flew out of the tank, somersaulted
with his tiny bike and landed with a splash in the tank. The water smacked us in our
faces and Uncle slammed backwards into the bookcase. It shook. I took the chance and
wiped my face on his shirt.
Fish grabbed their bicycles and started somersaulting
out of the tank and splashing hard into the water. They rained water on Uncle,
and he cowered against the book case, exclaiming, “Aiyyo!” over and over
again.
“Run, run, run! Let’s get out of here,” Gregory
shouted.
I bent and pulled the lever hard. This time it clicked and I
could feel the tank roll forward slightly. “Get in, get in, get in!” I
shouted at Fish and wheeled them into the sitting room.
I saw my relatives watch me in shock, but Rajiv started
running towards me. This time Danny stood up and blocked his way. I didn’t wait.
“Anjali!”
She was at the door, helping me lift the tank over the
doorstep. I slammed the main and security doors shut and Anjali jabbed the lift
button frantically. The flat’s door opened, and I could hear Uncle, Beasty and
Rajiv shouting, children screaming and furniture toppling. “Run, you two, run!” Rajiv’s sister Rita
shouted.
The lift's doors opened, and we pushed the tank in and the
doors closed. We breathed hard, holding our chests.
“Shit!” I said, feeling my heart hammering all over
again. “Shit, shit, shit! I left my bag and keys upstairs.”
“No, we’re good.” Anjali pulled the strap of my bag
she had slung across her chest.
“Our luggage?”
She grinned. “I asked Aarav and Aditya to put them in the
car without their mother or anyone seeing. I thought it best to be prepared. Aditya was upset at the thought of
you going, but after that stupid lunch session he was amenable" (The Unravelling).
Bless my darling nephews. I’d be baking them a nice
fat chocolate cake when they came around next.
We got the fish tank into the car. There was no one
chasing after us. But when I looked up at Uncle’s window, he was staring at me
angrily with a furious, blabbering Rajiv beside him. I stepped
on the accelerator. I’d figure out the consequences later.
******
