Fishy Chronicles 51: A Nasty Encounter

I pressed the button at my elbow and the car window slid down quickly. Ice-cold air hit us and I hurriedly raised the window until a thin slit allowed the air to blow across the tops of our heads and ease the suffocation I felt in the closed space. The Sikh driver’s eyes met mine in his rearview mirror. I looked at Anjali beside me in the car, but she seemed unconcerned. She was probably used to the cold in the hills. I had spent time with her twice, but hadn’t cared for the lack of amenities. Now we were on our way to Amritsar’s international airport at 5am.

“How did you find out I was going to Amritsar?” I asked Anjali.

“Roma.”

“What would you have done if I had cancelled the trip?”

“Gone by myself,” she grinned.

“So easy, is it?”

“Yes. But I wanted to spend time with you, so I’d have told you eventually… that is if Roma and Genie hadn’t been able to convince you to carry on with the trip.”

That seemed how it would have panned out. “Do you want to do anything specific in Mumbai?”

“I’ve got some meetings. But I thought we could go to the beach and do some time pass with Roma, Georgy permitting, of course.”

“You think he’ll permit?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Do you think he’s becoming more possessive of Roma?”

“Not really.”

“He’s more demanding now.”

“Why do you say that, Anjali?”

“When Roma asked if she could join us at Amritsar, he nearly blew a gasket. Then he told his parents, who had a thing or two to say.”

“Shit.”

“Yes. Roma wouldn’t tell me what they said, but she said she didn’t speak to Georgy for two days.”

“Why didn’t she say something to me?” I asked, feeling bad for my cousin.

“You have your own problems,” Anjali said.

“Still... she could always take a break with me. I’m not judgy, especially where her in laws are concerned.”

“True. But I think you were the reason they had a fight.”

“She told you?”

“No. She wouldn’t say and you know Georgy and his parents – they have a thing for you… and ‘your ways’.”

I couldn’t disagree because it was true. As far as my cousin’s in laws, the Kurians, were concerned, and even though I was younger and Roma was too difficult to sway, I was a bad influence in every sense – divorced, their grandchildren adored me and I was painting the town red just by being single. And, now, I was apparently being waited on hand and foot by my parents' handsome former man Friday, Genie, and, in all probability, was indulging in immoral activities. Clandestinely. I was debauched and pulling the wool over the eyes of every God-fearing Christiani relative I had.

I felt a sharp poke in my side. “I do not know how Roma married Georgy… but if she had taken a good look at her in laws I’m sure she’d have run. Fast,” Anjali said, forgetting that she had told me this several hundred times.

I couldn’t understand what Roma saw in Georgy either. Or his family. But now it was too late. And unlike me, she was not a quitter. And unlike me, her in laws were scared of her, which was worth chicken shit.

“Like they say, get your head out of the gutter and live your life,” Anjali mumbled absently.

I felt riled. “Who are they?”

“The universe. My guru.”

“You don’t have a guru.”

“Right. But we give too much importance to society and the people around us.”

“You have to if you want to live among them. There’s a hierarchy and codes and rules.”

Anjali still looked out of her side of the window, but she took a deep breath and her mouth tightened. She turned her head sharply, “Do you want to marry again?”

Yes! No. She glared at me – angry at my indecision – her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flaring. She was angry with me, because of me, for me. Many years ago I had sought her out in Almora, in Uttarakhand, spending two weeks hiding from people, hoping and praying that I would disappear off the face of the earth... unable to deal with the mess my life had become. She had spoken to me, put her work on hold, walked about with me endlessly, understanding of my nervous, tortured energy, and then sat in the train with me on my journey home. And all through she had told me to “leave him". 

I hadn’t.  

And I had paid for it dearly.

                                                          ******

This a fictional series about the 30-something narrator. She is making her way back to Mumbai with her best friend Anjali when a person from her past reappears. She seems predestined to cross swords with him again. 

                                                          ****** 

“Can you believe it. The connecting flight’s been delayed again!” Anjali stomped off to speak to an airport official. She looked at peace when she returned. “The guy at the counter said we’d have to wait two hours. He wouldn’t say why. But I’m guessing it’s that,” she said tilting her head at the tall windows. Outside, the tarmac was barely visible under a thick haze. Probably smog. I was glad we were in the airport and not venturing out because the air was very bad. 

We walked about Indira Gandhi International Airport and had a leisurely meal at one of the restaurants and then settled into a couple of seats near our boarding gate. My attention drifted to a small boy who was spread-eagled on the floor. He was screaming and refusing to be picked up by the elderly woman, dressed in a sari and bulky sweater, accompanying him. Something about the woman seemed familiar, the fat bun, the gait, the perfect teeth bared in a snarl. And it struck me just as Anjali sat up straight and grabbed my arm. A tall, well-built man immediately went up to the child, yanked him off the ground by one arm and shook him angrily. Anjali’s grip tightened. I felt sick, and sorry for the child. 

A young woman, holding a baby, stood up and tried to pull the child away from her husband. People watched silently as the man bent and spoke menacingly into the child’s face all the while shaking him. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, reluctant to get up and do something. The elderly woman looked around casually and exclaimed, pointing in our direction. Her husband stood to have a better look at us. The young lady holding the child looked distressed and I felt intense pity for her.

Anjali and I stared back at them. We sat still. I felt numb and then anger slowly invaded my being. Relieved too that he wasn’t my husband any more. He stared at me, giving me a dirty look and then I heard and saw the people near us titter and smile. 

I couldn’t believe what Anjali had just done. She had formed her mouth slowly into an exaggerated pout and a loud kissy sound emerged. She grinned mischievously at my former family some way off. Disbelief spread over my ex's face and those of his parents. I couldn’t help it, I grinned too. 

The next thing I knew Anjali had balled her right hand into a fist, raised it up and with her other arm supporting it, jerked her fist upwards twice. I grabbed her arm and pulled it down before she could repeat the rude gesture a third time. But it was too late, the ex was in a rage and charging towards us. People turned around to watch, wondering what was going on.

I stood up in fright, but Anjali stayed seated, one leg over the other, staring calmly at the bull-headed pig. “Come on, Anjali, get up. UP! GET UP!” I screamed in fright, memories of this man’s evil temper rushing back. I tried to pull her out of her seat, but she was unmoved and pushed my hand away.

I stood still. I could not run away from my friend. My ex was by our side now, but Anjali’s calmness had thrown him and though he was livid he stood a respectful distance away.

“You bit… you! How dare you!” And he tore his gaze away from Anjali and glared at me furiously.

“You-you married again?” I stuttered, trying to deflect his attention from Anjali.

“What does it look like, you moron!” he snarled, spittle trying to escape his mouth.

“Just thought it’d have been a good idea if you’d got a vasectomy first.”

There was a stunned silence, and then someone laughed and he roared abuse and lunged at me. I screamed and jumped out of the way and in a couple of seconds he had tripped and fallen hard on his face. I realised soon that it was Anjali’s foot that had tripped him. He flailed in the small space between the chairs, trying to disentangle himself from the straps of various bags. Anjali threw my knapsack at me, grabbed her bag, stepped on his back and we ran as fast as we could. 

But we needn’t have worried.

Some men had now surrounded him and I could hear raised voices and someone shouting for security. We stood and watched from a distance. When a policeman started walking towards the crowd, Anjali pulled me away and we moved into a toilet and stayed hidden. About 15 minutes later, I held out my compact to see what was happening. There was still a group standing, though things had quietened considerably. I could see an airport security official giving my ex and his family a stern lecture and some male passengers standing close by and listening. 

When the ground staff called out our flight number, we watched people walk into the gate in single file. I could see the ex looking around him, trying to catch sight of us. His mother pushed her daughter in law and grandchildren ahead of her, her husband followed and then, reluctantly, her son. But the crowd around my ex husband looked at him coldly, and I could see the wariness in his body. A rare emotion.

A hand slapped my bottom and Anjali grabbed my arm and pulled me along with her. We smiled and nodded at the lady scanning the holograms on our tickets. 

I felt tense. “We’re on the same flight.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not scared, Anjali?”

“No. Why should I be?”

I stopped and glared at her. Anjali threw her head back and laughed. “What’s he going to do to us? Hit us? Shout at us? Scream? He’ll get arrested. How will he show his face to his neighbours and in church if he does, huh?”

Brilliant girl! “But what if he does come to our seats and…” Anjali’s index finger pressed my lips shut and she was smiling.

“Try to stop thinking, darling. If he wants to let off steam, he can. It would be fun to hear him. Do I think he’d do it in a crowded plane and court chances of an arrest. Absolutely not. So, if he comes around give him a spiel on a double vasectomy – as softly as you can, with a smile on your face. If you can. Okay?”

I nodded. That I could do. I had a repertoire I had perfected over years, always hoping I’d meet him one day and share it with him. Today seemed to be the day.

                                                        ****** 

Fishy Chronicles 27: Mutiny At Pretty Villa

"There's a problem?" Roma was at my door. Genie, Fish and I had arrived in the morning at Pretty Villa in Lonavala, just outside Mumbai, for our three-day holiday with family.

"Oh?" 

"Where are we going to put Genie?"

"With me," I unpacked Fish's things and put their comics and eats within sight. I eyed Genie's holdall on his bed. He had disappeared soon after we came to our room. 

"Are you nuts?" Roma said, throwing herself onto one of the beds, holding her head with both hands and staring at the ceiling.

"Sometimes. What's the problem? Genie and I have lived in the same flat for years, even after Papa and Mummy died." I had wondered when someone would bring it up, especially considering the conundrum that our cousin Eva, her estranged husband Ashok and her new boyfriend Arief represented. "Is Arief really her boyfriend?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Couldn't she have gotten better?" Roma's eyes moved from the ceiling fan and glared at me. But I couldn't help it, "What's wrong with Ashok? He's way smarter than Arief!"

"Yes, but we have a problem on our hands."

"Really?"

"Both sets of parents are upset Eva is sharing a room with Arief and when Mummy spoke to Eva she said if you and Genie could share a room so could she with Arief."

"Hahahahaha!"

"Dammit! It's not funny!"

"Of course it is! Genie and I have been living together for years - whatever twist anyone wants to put on it! All the aunties and uncles had issues with it even when my parents were alive. Genie even left a couple of times and returned - I do not know why. I've never been able to make out the excuses. My parents thought of him as a son. He thinks of me as a sister. What is there to argue." 

Roma's mouth opened, she looked at me coldly and then shook her head vigorously. "No one for a moment thinks there's anything innocent between you!"

I felt shock, though I'd never been in doubt of what my relatives, or the rest of the world, thought. "Well, there's nothing I can do to change the way they think."

"Of course you can! You can ask Genie to leave!" Roma burst out. "Or-Or-Or he can live nearby and come over every day for work."

"People are going to talk anyway."

This is a fictional series about the narrator, her former manservant Genie and their fish. They arrive at Hotel Pretty Villa on a vacation with the narrator's family and get sucked into family politics and lingering resentments. The unpleasantness peaks, forcing a cousin to step in.

"This arrangement," Roma spread her hands and looked about the room, her eyes settling with distaste on Genie's holdall, "isn't going to work." 

"Tell Aunty to put Eva and Arief in different rooms!"

"Mummy did. The only option is Nidhi or you sharing a room with Eva. Nidhi refused." Nidhi was Ashok's sister and Roma's dad had tipped off Ashok that Eva was going to bring a boyfriend. 

"Tell Eva and Nidhi to fuck off."

"Please, babe. Adjust some!"

"There's nothing to adjust! Eva has no business sharing a room with Arief especially with Ashok around and even more so since they're still married!"

"You move in with Eva and we can move Genie to the servants dormitory."

I felt shock and anger begin to rise. "Did you call us here to insult us?"

"No! No, of course not!"

"I'll have a chat with Aunty."

"Baby, think logically..."

"Out!" 

"Babe..." Roma tried to hug me. 

"What I can't believe is you thinking I'm having a rip-roaring affair with Genie! You don't know him, but don't you know me?!"

"Umm..." Roma twisted her hands.

"I'm damned if I'm going to let you guys treat him like the help. He has never been and has never considered himself one!"

"But he..."

I walked out of the door. I kicked every door until I reached the one where i could hear an argument. I banged the door with my fist, wishing I was pounding the shit out of all my relatives. A red-faced, agitated Arief opened the door. "You!"

I pushed my way in. By now, everyone had followed me. My aunt and uncle were very angry with me. Nothing could make me stop. But I did. My cousin Eva was in tears. She rubbed her face with a disintegrating tissue but the tears continued to fall. 

I felt all my anger melt. I quickly went to her and held her. "What's wrong, Eva?"

She shook her head. I turned to Arief, "What the hell did you do to her!"

"Nothing," Arief shrugged. He looked embarrassed.

"Did he hit you, Eva?!" 

Eva shook her head. 

"So why are you crying!" 

There was silence. And more tears. I hugged her and said softly in her ear, "What is it, darling? We'll sort it out, just tell me. I won't tell the others."

"I want to go back," she whispered in my neck.

"Why?"

"I made a huge mistake coming."

"Are you still angry with Ashok?"

She started to cry more. I said to the crowd behind me, "I'll move into this room with Eva and Arief can move into my room."

There was a ripple of discord behind me. "What?" Kurian Aunty, Roma's mother in law, said. "You want Arief to share a room with your servant?"

"HE'S NOT A SERVANT!" 

"But you told us he's your butler and Man Friday," Roma's mom said, confused and nervous.

"He visited me for Christmas and is staying back to sort out stuff."

"Why didn't you just say so!" Georgy, Roma's husband said.

"Did you think anyone would believe me?"

There was silence. 

"Does anyone believe me now?" I asked the group in front of me. They looked confused and angry, while the Kurian women looked happy at the implied salaciousness.

I heard a throat clear. Genie said, "I'll get a room down the road." There was disbelief and the group turned to stare at him. 

"Good. I'll come too," I said.

There was uproar, with everyone talking at once. 

"Quiet!" Uncle shouted at the group. He turned to me, "You will do no such thing!"

"Er, I'm going back, Uncle," Arief said.

"Sensible decision," Kurian Uncle, Georgy's father, said. 

Ashok muscled his way in. "Stop it, Uncle. Arief, you're staying right here. Genie, you're not going down the road either. You're a part of the family and whatever anyone has to say," he glared at his assorted family, "they can keep it to themselves! There will be no more rudeness on this trip - we're all friends and family."

We stared at him, nonplussed. Finally Roma's mother broke the silence. "So where does everyone sleep tonight?" 

"Right, Aunty. Arief, Genie and I will take this room. The three ladies will sleep in the other room."

"I will not!" Nidhi said hotly.

"You have a better idea?" Ashok asked, his body very still. I wondered suddenly if he was prone to violence. I felt a frisson of discomfort.

"But that will mean we'll have to give up one room."

"Yes. I've suddenly made your holiday cheaper," he told his sister unnecessarily.

"I don't want to..."

"You will."

Nidhi closed her mouth and walked off. "Right," Ashok smiled at the group. "All's settled. Back to your rooms everyone. Genie, let's get our gear."

They moved out, leaving the elders staring at us blankly. Then Roma's father walked out, her mom followed and then her parents in law and sisters in law and their spouses. 

Roma and I sat on the bed, with our arms around Eva in between us. She was still crying.

"What, baby?" Roma asked Eva. She didn't answer. We stayed until the guys returned with their luggage. Ashok looked Eva over. His eyes never left her face.

We left Eva in our room and Roma and I walked quickly to the front lawn and sat on the large swing. 

"I'm not comfortable with us being in full view of everyone," I said. I wanted to hide in a deep hole and hold myself tightly. 

"Ashok is a moron," Roma muttered.

"What?" 

"Of all the times to be cost conscious!"

"What are you saying, Roma?"

She turned angrily to me. I shrank back. "Did you notice the way Ashok looked at Eva? He still loves her!"

I had noticed too. He hadn't cared she was with another man. "So?"

"So? So! Soooo!!!! He could have sorted things out by just moving into the room with Eva. Staked his claim! Kicked every other man's butt! Tossed Arief out on his ear! Bloody hell! Instead he's saving money for Daddy!! ARRRRGHHHHHHH!" she screamed.

She grabbed my lapel and shook me, "For once in his life, he could have been a he-fucking-man and said he was going to share the room with Eva!"

"O-O-One problem with that!" I stammered, trying to free the front of my shirt from Roma's grasp.

"WHAT!" Roma spat into my eye.

"Eva might not have wanted it."

"Bah! Not a chance! Just bloody ego, both of them!"

I agreed. The moment Eva had told me she had made a mistake, I knew what she meant. Ashok was a kind man. For both of them, I hoped things would work out. I hated the fact that there was such a big audience. The Kurian women hated Eva, but everyone in my family liked Ashok.

Roma grabbed the flesh of my thigh and squeezed hard. I yelped in pain. She shushed me angrily and gestured with her chin at the large bush near us. 

I could see Ashok smoking alone on the ground floor, near the entrance leading to the garden, his eyes caught by something upstairs. We looked in the direction he was looking - Eva was in the balcony staring at him.

The pain in my thigh became unbearable. I threw off Roma's hand and massaged my thigh. 

Genie and Arief came out of the hotel and spoke to Ashok. The three of them walked up to us. "We're going to have cutting chai from down the road. Want to join us?" Genie asked.

"Sure," Roma said, immediately on her feet. She put her thumb and index fingers into her mouth, let out a shrill whistle and shouted, "Eva, we're getting tea! Hurry up and come downstairs!" 

Eva started and immediately left the balcony. Roma smiled.

"Er, Georgy?" I asked Roma. 

"Oh, he's probably with Mummy. In very safe hands. Come on, Eva's here!" 

Roma looped her arms into Eva's and mine and dragged us towards the gate. The men followed.

Fishy Chronicles 24: Clearing The Fog

I waited a day to call Roma. I tried a couple of times.

By chance, I saw Aunty Glory lugging groceries home. Uncle John was in Goa - I had noticed her in the balcony many times during the day, catching sight of the cigarette smoke from between her potted plants on the balcony's ledge. Her cigarette was usually balanced on a tiny blue enamel ashtray, wedged between two flower pots so that it wasn't blown away.

How did she start smoking, I'd asked Papa. "Oh, it was glamorous in those days. But Glory just wanted to shock people's pants off, and then got hooked."

I was shocked at what Papa said, but I shouldn't have been.

Illustration by A. Peter

"What's the latest on the holiday drama, my dear?" Aunty Glory asked.

"Eva's getting along a friend - a man."

Aunty laughed. It was like many ducks quacking. Very unladylike, my mother in law - ex - had sniffed once.

"Roma's very disturbed and Genie upset her more. She didn't pick up my calls today."

"Well, she must be busy," Aunty said.

"Probably." I felt better.

"What did Genie say to throw off Roma? Hard to imagine him upsetting her. They have such great chemistry."

I dropped one of Aunty's bags. "Er, chemistry?"

She was rummaging through her handbag, looking for her key. The lift door opened and I hefted the bags to Aunty's door and waited.

"You didn't notice?" Some shrill quacks. "Oh, my darling, you don't notice a thing! They're attracted to each other. And what's not to like. At another time and place, they might have got together. Maybe. But probably not."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, their paths should cross. Roma's parents married her early, as did all you girls."

I nodded. That great Indian tradition of marrying a woman off as early as possible. Ninety percent of the time the marriage worked. But really, who knew. A few years on the chance of a happy marriage might be an unusual theme only found in old books.

Aunty continued, "Don't worry, dear. She's too rational to fool around. And despite those silly people she lives with, she seems to manage them well. Yes, my dear, manage them. Not a bad thing at all, but not everyone's cup of tea."

"You mean manipulation, no? However hard I tried, I couldn't please anyone," I mumbled.

"Well, don't have a pity party. Better to end it than be unhappy forever." My friend Anjali had put it baldly. "You got your life back." Only, it had made me miserable to hear her say it. But as the years passed - and I settled into my singleness and caught my balance - I understood what she meant.

"Is their divorce final?"

I felt shock course through me. I thought of Roma and Georgy splitting and then realised Aunty was asking about my cousin Eva and her husband Ashok.

"N-No, Aunty. Not that we've heard of."

"Oh... Oh!" Aunty opened her mouth several times, but no words came.

"What, Aunty Glory?"

"Nothing, dear."
                                        ******

This is a fictional series surrounding the narrator and her former manservant, and now friend, Genie.

                                        ******

"Why did you run off yesterday, Roma?" I managed to pin down my cousin in the evening.

"I didn't."

"You ran like Satan was after you."

"Hahaha! I was in a hurry to get home. I realised today that if I manage my time better, I can sit in the BMC park for a bit - before I have to get home."

"Why would you do that?"

"I want to hear myself think," Roma said.

"Come here if you want to spend time away from everyone. You know you can come here - anytime."

"Oh... darling! You're so sweet. Of course, I'd come to you. Or I'd just kick someone's butt. That seems way easier than running away."

"It's not running away!" I protested.

"I know, I know. That came out badly. I meant I'd only run if Georgy was with me. And imagine what my kids would do to Fish if I turned up there."

"Okay. Are you going to tell Eva to stay away?"

"No. She can screw herself however she likes. And we're both going to be there to watch."

                                        ******