Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 September 2022

Fishy Chronicles 96 – The Webs We Weave (28)


As soon as we reached home and the pleasantries were done with, Sam Uncle went into my grandfather’s study and called his home.

I hung around the sitting room windows, while the ladies stood at the doorways. Soon enough I heard the steady ringing of a bicycle bell and then saw the lanky raggedy figure on it careening at top speed into our gate. I held my breath. He was able to brake just before he hit the gate’s grills. He hopped off, wheeled the ancient bicycle inside the compound and shouted.

“Mol, come out!”

“Appa, I’m going to meet Jimmy.”

There was sudden silence in the room. Jimmy, aka Chacko, was Paul Mathew’s (FC95) younger brother. I was always nervous meeting him because my family felt there was something going on between us because he was a boy. There wasn’t. But I got all the crazy looks. We had been good friends as children and Anjali and I hung around with Jimmy and his friends at recess in school. Plus we both didn’t care for his cousin Nidhi. We had the same friends, and almost the same enemies – Jimmy didn’t waste time hating anyone. Roma and Jimmy never saw eye to eye and she was annoyed whenever I preferred him to her.

I waited for Appa’s reluctant nod but kept moving to the main door. There was shock on Roma’s face and growing anger.

But Jimmy, a pet name he coined for himself as a child, was already at the door, dirt stains on his orange t-shirt and beige pants, a dark smudge on his pink face and a big smile for everyone. He marched in shook hands with all the elders, cracked a joke, and then grabbed my elbow.

“Mol is going to show me Kunjappachan’s animals… next door. We’ll be right back.”

“Can I come?” Rita demanded, blocking our way, and backed by some of the smaller kids.

“Say no, Jimmy,” I murmured.

“Sure, but I’m going to look for the snake that is behind the cowshed, where the manure is piled. You will have to dig holes in it with me. Are you okay with that… walking in it and carting the manure away?”

There were loud sounds of disgust from the children, and chuckles from the adults. The kids couldn’t back away fast enough. Only Rita looked suspicious and held her ground.

“Get the koondali (hoe),” Jimmy told her. She ran towards the kitchen to get to the shed outside, where we stored the farming tools. “Get two, Rita, and meet us at Kunjappachan’s cowshed,” Jimmy shouted at her back. He pulled my hand and we rushed down the steps of the house. He picked up his bicycle, and sat on it. I opened the gate and closed it after him, and sat sidesaddle on the back seat and we waved at the crowd at the windows. It was amazing how suspicious young people were too – my cousins were at the windows watching us.

Jimmy cycled at a furious pace, and past Kunjappachan’s place. He stopped at the side of the road further along. “Are you comfortable sitting like that?”

“Of course not.” I got off and sat astride.

“You remember the last time I took you on my bike? Dad gave me a lecture about love and arranged marriages. I tried not to yawn,” Jimmy said.

“I may keep getting the lectures for some time this vacation. I’ve got to tell you loads of stuff – a lot has happened this last month and a half. By the way, you holding my hand will tip them off balance.”

Jimmy laughed. “Do they really think we’re going to get married? I’m only 15. I have at least 15 or 20 years more to go.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’ve something to show.”

“What is it?”

“Secret. Wait for it.”

We cycled past lush paddy fields, the light glinting off the water in places, narrowly missed the speeding autorickshaws and tumbled into a ditch.

“Sorry, sorry. Are you hurt?” Jimmy asked after he pulled me up with some difficulty. I checked my dress to see if it was torn. I had heard a rip, but probably imagined it. But my left side was stained with mud from our fall. Jimmy tried to pry off the wet mud with a dried leaf. “Sorry, mol. I don’t know how we’re going to explain this,” he pointed at my clothes.

“We can tell them the truth.”

“They’ll stop you from coming out with me.” There was genuine regret on Jimmy’s face.

“I can have a wash before I go home. Tidy up my clothes.”

“Ya. Good idea. Come on.” We got on the bike, which was in cyclable shape, and sped on. I soon realised we were going to Jimmy’s grandparents’ house. I usually visited them with my parents towards the end of our vacations. But Appa visited them often.

As soon as we rode in through the open gate, both of us jumped off the bicycle, and Jimmy leaned it against the side of the house and showed me where the tap was. Most Kerala houses have at least three or four taps outside the house, mostly near the entrances.

He watched while I sluiced water over my left side, and tried to rinse away the drying stains. He brought me a grungy turkey towel to dry myself. Then he took me to his room and told me to take off my skirt, which he’d iron in another room. We closed the windows to thwart voyeurs and I handed him my skirt through the door. He returned in five minutes. Some of the stains still showed but the skirt was dry.

“Hold out your blouse and I’ll iron out the wet patches,” Jimmy said.

“You’ll burn me!”

“Let’s give it a shot.”

So I stood still, and stretched out my blouse while he tried to iron it suspended in the air. It was quite useless and so he gave up.

I knew he was an ace at ironing because his sister Marina had made him iron her clothes, until he managed to burn a nice dress. When I got to know I asked him if he had done it on purpose and he didn't answer. I didn’t know what it to make of it.

He took me to the storeroom, which was at the back of the house, and switched on the zero-watt light bulb. “Be quiet,” he whispered.

While my eyes got accustomed to the dark room, I heard squeaks. It came from the basket in the corner. He lifted the conical lid of the basket and a hen twisted her head this way and that to look at us. She allowed Jimmy to lift her and he kept her tucked under his arm, gently caressing the top of her head and murmuring to her.

“Can you hear the noise?” he asked.

“Yes. But what is it?” I couldn’t see any chicks – only eggs in the basket.

“The sounds are from the eggs. They are about to hatch.”

“That’s crazy. Are you sure?”

“Look here.” A portion of the egg was broken and a large hole had developed in the shell. “Can you see the chick moving?”

I looked in awe. I had never seen a chick hatch out of an egg. Jimmy put the hen down and slowly lowered the conical lid on her. He lifted the egg and peeled away a small bit of the shell from near the hole. We could see the chick trembling inside. It wasn’t fear, it was just the way new life happened.

The wooden doors behind us opened and Jimmy’s grandmother Kunjumaria Ammachi came in and watched us. After a few minutes, she told us to leave the eggs be. Jimmy placed the hen back on its to-be family and latched the storeroom’s doors.

Ammachi put her arms around us and listened to our chatter while we walked through the dark rooms to the kitchen. She served us tea and jackfruit chips and halwa, asked us questions, and seemed keenly interested in the family’s reactions to Rebecca and Roy’s marriage (FC92, FC93). Jimmy and I sat next to each other on the long wooden bench in the kitchen and sipped our tea.

When the phone rang, Jimmy said to his grandmother, “It will be for us.” He answered the phone and said yes three or four times. “Ammachi, I have to take mol back. Is it ok if I eat lunch there?”

A dimple showed in Ammachi’s cheek when she smiled. She nodded her head and held out an arm. We bent our heads to her lips for a kiss and I could smell the clean smell of a fresh cotton sari.

This time we cycled slowly taking in the sights of the village and when we reached Kunjappachan’s house Jimmy rode in, circled the front courtyard, rode behind the cowshed and stopped there. We waved at the aunt watching us suspiciously through the kitchen window.

“What’s going on, Jimmy?” I asked, eyeing the knee-high pile of stinking manure.

“We’ll need to say we were at Kunjappachan’s house.” He turned to face me. “We’ll come back of course, I want to see the animals here. You’ll also need to sit ladylike.” This I had forgotten. So I hopped off and walked to the front of the house. In a minute, Jimmy was with me and I sat sidesaddle behind him. We had to keep up appearances, there’d be any number of hawks at the windows waiting for us to re-appear.

In the end, our lone hawk turned out to be Rita – who was furious at us for not waiting for her. She claimed she had dug herself a hole in the cow dung behind the cowshed.

“Who told you to do that!” Jimmy said aiming to look shocked, although one side of his mouth twitched. Chuckles sounded behind us.

“You said there was a snake there!”

“But snakes are dangerous. You should have let me come and take care of it.”

That stumped Rita… but just for a few seconds. “But you weren’t there. I waited and waited and waited!” her voice shrill.

“Are you sure you went to the right place? I was there and didn’t see the hole… Do you think the snake filled it up? And normally you’d stink the place up if you were mucking about with manure.”

Roma stepped forward her arms akimbo. “Where were the two of you? You said you’d be next door but weren’t.”

“You were there with Rita?” Jimmy asked.

“No.”

“So basically you don’t know.”

Roma’s mouth flapped a bit, not knowing what hit her. Jimmy turned to Rita, “The truth is mol and I waited for you, but you took too long to show up. So I took her home to show her a hatching egg. I’m sorry, I had no patience. But if you like, we can go now and look for the snake. The snake may have gone off by now, but there may be some large worms.”

“Jimmy…” Sam Uncle said, shaking his head but his eyes dancing and his lips closed tightly – probably trying to rein in a laugh. My eyes darted to Paul and there was a cool look in them, no sign of a smile. I never had a chance with him anyway. Life was for living, and I’d rather do it looking at eggs hatching and falling in ditches with his cooler brother.

“I would have liked to look at the eggs too,” Rita said throwing a cold look at me. I suddenly realised I wanted Rita on my side… always.

“Yes, Jimmy, all of us would have,” Sarah said, leaning against the doorjamb of the dining room, smiling mischievously at Jimmy who looked away and blushed.

“Next time then,” he muttered.

Rita and Roma glared at Jimmy but he sat on the arm of the sofa his father was seated on. When he pointed at the stool next to him, I felt a hand pull my blouse from the back and I was hauled into the dining room. Amma ordered me to set the table for the guests, and Rita and Roma soon followed me.

                                                            *****

The narrator is spending the summer vacation with her grandparents in Kerala and an old friend drops by for a visit and serves up some intrigue. 

This is a work of fiction and is the latest episode of the Webs We Weave series.
You can read all the episodes here
FC697071727374757677787980,8182838485868788899091929394, 95, 96, 97)

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#younglove #jimmy #love #youngadult #fiction #keralastories #keralavillage #kerala #animalstories #eggs #hens #snake #worms #cowdung #cow #cowshed #ditch #bicycle #youngboy #younggirl #teenager #teenageescapades #teenagestories #fishychronicles #tea #websweweaveseries #websweweave #bombaymalayalis #syrianchristianmalayalis #syrianchristians #bestfriends #friends #hawk #sidesaddle #sari #freshsmell #rita #keepingupappearances #rebecca #roy #marriage #rita #roma #cousins #family #school #recess

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Tuesday, 23 July 2019

Fishy Chronicles 30: Drama in Lonavala


After a couple of hours directly under a sunny sun, I got up from my bench in the garden of Chez Perreira. I had to. Many of its staff had given me meaningful looks. Besides, the numbers of small children bouncing hard plastic balls off me had increased.

I threw the last ball that hit me into a tree. Luckily it lodged in the tree's branches and I could hear the ball's little evil owner begin to wail. I stepped out jauntily into the small kaccha lane, feeling slightly happier and, more than ever, assured that my soul was furiously winging its way to hell.


I could hear a collective tut-tut from my parents in heaven. Sometimes I wished they had been like other parents - whose children were always in the right, even if they were wrong. 


"I would have hated you," Aunty Glory once told me. "I can tolerate you because your parents kicked you into shape."


I had sat glumly in the Gonsalves flat, recounting some miserable event and hoping Aunty Glory would commiserate. She hadn't. She had given me a stiff lecture about the futility of feeling sorry for oneself, ordered me to straighten myself out and hurl myself unforgivingly at the world. Whatever that meant. I had been too browbeaten to ask for a clarification and I put it all down to quintessential, I-don't-care-about-your-feelings Gloryspeak.



The narrator, on holiday with Cousin Roma and her extended family, has had a nightmarish start to her holiday. She previously got into a fight with a guest of the family, Arief, disappeared without apologising and has now been found and been brought back, unwillingly, to the hotel. 
More drama ensues, with the narrator neck deep in shit. How will the day end?

I shook myself. I was in lovely Lonavala, which was still in the throes of a tepid winter. This cannot be equated with any other winter in any other place. I wished I had run out with a sweater, so I rubbed my arms, stamped my feet a few times and started walking to the town centre. I felt fear when I heard footsteps, felt a shadow fall on me and strong cold fingers on my shoulder and part of my neck. I whirled around, terror clutching my heart. Damn! I didn't think retribution would come so soon!


"Don't you get tired of running away!" Ashok said angrily, pink spots of colour showing in his fair cheeks. I tried to wriggle out of his grip. "And why can't you pick up your damned phone?!"


"I spoke to Roma!"


"I heard!"


"So?"


A swear word escaped him and my back stiffened. "So you've had all of us worried and running up and down these lanes. And your fish are a mess. They've been jumping out of the tank and now Genie's shut the tank's top with a brick. They're extremely agitated. I've never seen fish behave that way!"


"Bullshit... Nobby would have told them..." I couldn't believe Nobby hadn't immediately relayed his conversation with me. If he hadn't, the lack of information would be driving Fish insane and they usually threw themselves against the walls when they were disturbed. That was one thing that stressed Genie. He was never able to predict their behaviour or get them to behave. Heck, they never listened to me! And it explained why Genie still hadn't come by looking for me.


"Who's Nobby?" Ashok looked at me, his face screwed up, lower lip jutting like a boxer - the dog, not the fellow with the gloves.


"Er, er... a friend." I tried pulling my arm from Ashok's grip, but it tightened.


"Boyfriend?"


"Hahaha. In a manner. He's got a healthy regard for me." How else could I describe a mosquito who was a mad hatter and loved rum and me in equal measure.


I pushed against Ashok, but he wouldn't relent. He pulled me along and I dragged my feet. The pain in my flesh was intense. I finally yowled and tried to prise away his fingers one by one. "If this is how you manhandled Eva, no wonder she's trying to run away from you!" I shouted.


A look of shock appeared on Ashok's face. He let me go immediately and I ran to Pretty Villa! I turned to look and saw Ashok standing where I left him. I stopped in my tracks. Me and my stupid mouth. I looked in the lobby and then I walked back slowly.


"Eva told you I hit her?" Ashok said, distressed.


"No, of course not!"


"But you said..."


"I didn't mean it. You were cutting off my blood circulation." I pushed back my sleeve to show him my bruises and gaped at my slightly pink flesh. There was no sign of trauma. "Er... my arm was hurting and you wouldn't let go," I said lamely. Ashok's mouth grew tight, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared.


Shit. How did I land in it so often. I went up to him and grabbed his hand and urged him to run with me to the hotel. It was like trying to move a mountain. I tugged and pulled. Finally, I said, "I'm sorry, Ashok. I shouldn't have said that."


"Damn right, you shouldn't have! I treated her like a princess. And if anyone should come to her senses, it should be Eva!" Ashok snarled.


I stepped back to avoid the spit that escaped his lips. I moved towards him again. "I agree!" I grabbed his arm again in a futile effort to budge him.


"Bullshit! You're just playing me. You cousins are all the same."


"What do you mean?" 


"Bloody cock teases. Drama queens. And you women can't stay married!"


My blood ran cold. "Are you referring to me?" I was the only divorcée I knew among my first cousins, though cracks were showing in other marriages.


Ashok strode towards the hotel. I felt rage well up in me, I ran in front of him and tried to shove him backwards as hard as I could. "Oh no you don't, you smug creature. You don't just toss a bomb in the air and then run!"


Ashok looked flustered and stepped around me, he walked fast to the hotel lobby and I ran after him. I grabbed his shirt, hanging onto his collar and his shirt tore open at the buttons and I lost balance and fell. The rest of the group seemed plastered to their seats in the open lobby area, spellbound by the drama unfolding in front of them. I could see people get up and run toward us, but I had jumped on Ashok and was holding onto the squirming man as tight as I could.


"What are you doing?!" I heard Eva scream. I felt hands tear me away and Genie in my face, shocked. I felt drained. I could hear the elders shouting and see them shuffle as quickly as they could in our direction. And then I caught sight of Fish. I gave Ashok a mighty push and ran to them.


Arief blocked my path. His face was an angry red and he was opening his mouth to say something - mostly to shout. I slowed in front of him and put my hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry, Arief. Things got out of hand and I'm a great big idiot. I'm very sorry for hitting you with the table tennis ball and being rude. I hope you'll forgive me." I pushed past him, feeling my tears fall briskly.


I tossed the brick away and opened the tank. Fish were in different corners. I stroked their fins and whispered. I felt worse now because they looked battered, disturbed and dishevelled. I looked around and saw the mixed reactions of everyone. 


"I'll be right back, Fish." I closed the tank's lid and put the brick back on it. I ran to my room and grabbed my purse. I stared at the floor. Someone had kicked my nicely folded clothes to a corner. The act of violence had been unnecessary, but telling. I hesitated but then began to shove my things into my haversack.


"Stop it!" Roma was in the room holding my hands still with effort. "You're not going away!"


"Nope. Don't want to be treated like shit anymore. If someone feels like kicking my clothes about, I don't want to share a room with them."


"Eva didn't mean it!"


"You really mean Nidhi."


"If you leave, it'll be a sign of weakness - that you're running away. Daddy will have something truly awful to say."


"It's okay, Sweetie. Let anyone say whatever they want. I just want a little peace. I'm going to walk away and salvage some good sense, hang onto any equilibrium I can find."


Roma grabbed me, hugging me. "What happened to you?!"


I pushed her off. I wanted to tear Nidhi's clothes and stuff her cosmetics in the WC. But I had a sudden vision of brightly painted red lips flapping through a snore. For sure Karma is biding its time for you, Nidhi.


I galloped down the stairs and then slowed. I saw the group chattering to themselves, Arief was talking to Ashok and Ashok's arm was around Eva's shoulders and hers around his waist. He had changed into a t-shirt.


Genie's eyes were on me, taking in my bag and my wet face. He closed the tank lid, unlocked the wheel lock and started pushing the tank to the hotel's exit.


"Where are you taking the fish?" Uncle demanded.


I could feel Genie's reassuring smile even though his back was to me. "For a walk, Uncle."


"And where do you think you're going?" Uncle trained his eyes on me, coldly.


"For a walk, with Genie," I tried to say as calmly as I could.


"With your luggage?"


"Yes."


"Why don't you just go home! Run away. Not face up to anything!"


There was pin drop silence.


I struggled with every emotion in my being - but mostly impotent rage. Finally, not wanting to stay silent and mostly not wanting my silence to invite more disrespect from this pus-filled crowd, I stood in front of Uncle and said evenly and so that everyone could hear, "Sometimes, Uncle, it's okay to divorce someone who'll never be good to you. Sometimes it's okay for you to take your bag and run away from someone who can't be kind to you. Sometimes, it's okay to piss off someone, set a foot wrong and stand on your head and be silly. I'm going to make those mistakes, over and over and over and over. Whatever it is, I'll take it like a man. I'll see you at dinner. Maybe you'll want to wager something for my appearance."


Uncle continued to give me a filthy look. Roma's in laws looked happy. I charged towards her sisters in law and they, and their husbands, jumped back in fright, wiping off their smug smiles. Georgy looked mad. I instantly felt sorry for Roma.


I walked to the huge glass doors and felt a soft ball bounce against my back. I whirled around, feeling totally frustrated and ready to do violence. Roma's son Aarav, the precocious pre-teen who hated body contact, picked up his ball, slipped his hand in mine and said, "Let's go, Aunty. I want to see your new hotel." From the corner of my eye I saw his baby brother toss his table tennis bat into a potted plant and run toward us.


"Wait for me, Baby," my cousin Roma said, walking quickly. It unleashed angry cries from the pus pots. Georgy looked more pissed, but Roma was oblivious. She grabbed my bag, swung it on her shoulder and the crook of her arm squeezed my neck.


We moved forward and I heard another set of footsteps, albeit slower and heavier. Arief's eyes met mine. He pulled my bag off Roma's shoulder. Outside I felt the sunshine on my head and shoulders and it was less cold now, with a pleasant fragrance of cut grass in the air. I caught sight of Genie waiting for me at the gate, the lid of the tank open and my darlings lined near the top of the tank, watching. The children ran to the tank and Fish slid back in and out of reach.


Genie reached out and hugged me tightly. He murmured, "Are you okay?"


I nodded. When he still looked disbelieving I whispered, "Y-yes. I'd like to break a lot of arms and legs, but that thought is safely locked away in my subconscious." 


He loosened his hold. "Let's look to have fun these two days, okay?" 


I nodded. It had been a lousy day and a half, but there was still another day left to our holiday. Who knew what would be on the menu, but I was game for anything.