Fishy Chronicles 61: Cooking The Goose

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.

                                                          ******
In the last month the spread of the corona virus was termed a pandemic and looking at the way it had decimated populations worldwide the Indian government announced a lockdown. We had been prepared and despite challenges, fresh milk, vegetables and fruits were available. 

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.

                                                         ******

Fishy Chronicles 39: Genie Throws A Googly

"Well, hello there. Just where have you been?" a cold, honeyed voice asked from behind me. I dropped the eggs on the counter of the shop.

"Madam! Be careful!" The shopkeeper felt the bottom of the paper packet and handed it back to me. But my thoughts were very far from any fractured eggs.

I turned. I had no choice. I could feel my Genie-hungry neighbour Zeba's abundant bosom heave into the back of my shoulders. She was slightly taller than me but the very high heels she chose to wear created the mischief. I cleared my throat and tried to wriggle out of her chest. She pushed into me with a vengeance. I ducked and squeezed out through a narrow gap between Zeba and the egg shop counter. I gasped for breath and my face felt hot. I backed away several steps from the warrior princess. I could see several men stop to look. She had that kind of effect on men, so I wondered why Genie was immune to her charms. He was immune to her and I was suffering for it.

"Where did you disappear to?" She repeated, a tad louder.

"I disappeared?" If you recall, some days ago we, Genie, Fish and I, returned from a trip to Lonavala with my cousin Roma's in laws and some of our relatives. 

"The two public holidays and the weekend," Zeba reminded me. "Genie went with you," her eyes narrowed and she looked at me like I was nasty business.

"Really?" I backed away some more. "Let me see. I went off with my cousins. You're right, Genie joined us. And Fish. I figured they'd be lonesome without me!"

Zeba's mouth opened and closed. I grinned and walked away quickly.

Walking towards my building, my phone rang. "Yes, Aunty Glory?"

"You weren't at home?"

I looked up at Aunty's balcony involuntarily. Aunty Glory had been my parents friend and was mine too now. Despite her advanced age her heart was like that of a crazy teen and if she could have moved faster, she would have been absolute trouble. My parents had had nothing in common with Aunty Glory except being of a similar age.

She was looking at me. "No, Aunty. I went out to buy eggs. I met Zeba. She asked where Genie and I had disappeared to."

Aunty snorted into her phone. "Well, she's thorough. I just saw her leave Genie. She sat there for an eternity. He made her tea. How long does it take to buy eggs from next door?" Aunty was upset. It came through in her voice.

"Er... I went for a walk. And had to buy groceries."

"Why isn't Genie doing that?"

"He's my guest..."

"Bunkum! What's going on between you two?"

"You too, Aunty? I'm coming up. Er, is Genie still at home?"

"Yes."

I wanted to ask why she was spying on Genie, but who didn't in Peaceful Society. Sometimes I was tempted to put up see-through opaque glass around my balcony and on my windows. But then I'd think of how it would shut out the light and air. Plus, it all cost. Peaceful Society residents were welcome to eyeball us.

                                        ******

This is a fictional series about a 30-something Mumbai-based narrator whose former pet fish and parents' former man Friday have returned to stay awhile. Personal equations are different now.  

In this episode, the normally cool and can't-put-a-foot-wrong Genie does put a foot wrong. Unusually, and unwittingly, he creates a situation that the narrator is forced to face head on. 

                                        ******

"Are you in love with Genie?" Aunty Glory asked from my shoulder. Uncle John and Aunty Glory were standing on either side of me near the stove in their small kitchen. I felt Aunty's thin arm around my waist. The gesture blunted the force of the interrogation.

"No, Aunty. You know Roma made Genie and me join the family on the Lonavala trip because she couldn't handle the extra drama."

"You mean your cousin Eva bringing a boyfriend..."

"... and her husband Ashok also there..." Uncle John added.

"It's a good thing I went. Not only did Eva bring a boyfriend, he, Arief, happened to be a friend of Ashok!"

Uncle and Aunty made polite rude noises. I continued. "But the good thing is that Eva and Ashok kissed and made up."

"Oh, so sweet," Aunty said.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Uncle exuberantly spat at the back of my ear. They were true romantics and believed there was a love story at the end of every tunnel... even if Aunty G went to great lengths to rubbish it.

"And we're not sure if something is brewing between Arief and Nidhi," I said, knowing Uncle and Aunty would want to hear about the great Indian tamasha that was our Lonavala trip.

There was silence and I felt the slight movements in their bodies when Uncle and Aunty looked at each other. They knew Nidhi well. She had once hit me on the head with a pencil case in Sunday School. My parents had been upset but her parents had sought out mine in church and apologised. In school, one of Nidhi's bully friends had pushed me against the lavatory wall and told me Nidhi's father had yelled at Nidhi and her mother had given her a good shake. My only thought at that moment was of all the germs that were crawling into me from the smelly loo wall I was plastered against - I wouldn't be able to disinfect myself until I reached home. When I thought hard about it, I think I developed OCD and some of my current paranoia in that moment.

I had tried to avoid Nidhi since. When we moved away from that area Nidhi slipped out of my mind. Sadly, she came back into my life like a persistent rash when her brother Ashok and Eva (my father's sister Saroj's daughter) fell in love and married. 

I remembered I was with Aunty Glory and Uncle John, making them tea and upma. "And how did the holiday go?" Uncle said.

That question felt forced - like it was filling an uncomfortable silence. Uncle John was not curious. My head tilted to the side and it dawned on me that there was a snitch in my household. Someone had leaked my fizz, stolen my thunder and filled in the Gonsalveses on what would have been a juicy horror story the telling of which would have stretched over some weeks. "Genie told you?!" I said in disbelief.

Aunty's thin, wrinkled hand was on my mouth, trying to shut it, and then stroking my chin - I do not know why. She held me tightly. I couldn't believe she was afraid Genie could get hurt. Stay calm and focus, I told myself. I strained the tea and quickly made the upma. I then stood at the kitchen window and phoned Genie and asked him to come to the Gonsalves home for breakfast.

"Oh dear. You're going to give him the third degree. Men don't like that," Uncle John shook his head over his pretty rose-patterned plate. 

"Don't be a shrew, dear," Aunty said, sitting opposite her husband. "We were curious and Genie made it all sound hilarious."

"What did he say?" I was curious too. I could barely get out a whole sentence from Genie, but here he had apparently given the Gonsalveses fulsome details of everything and everyone at our Lonavala trip. I felt heat creep into my cheeks. Did he tell them about my troublesome episodes with Arief, Ashok and Nidhi? I wanted to pump out my chest and claim to have brought Ashok and Eva back together, but that would sound cheesy now.

In any case, in the few minutes it took Genie to rush across the courtyard, mostly to avoid the women suddenly emerging into the courtyard and blocking his path, I got a brief rundown of events in Lonavala (dear reader, please refer to previous Fishy Chronicles 22 to 36 to know what transpired). And Uncle and Aunty snorted and laughed. I felt mortified in places, but added my two bits by telling them how I snored at night to scare Nidhi and how she attacked me in my bed. Her penchant for violence had not abated in her adulthood.

We heard the door open. Yes, Genie, or rather we, had a key to the Gonsalves home for practical purposes.

Genie listened to Uncle and Aunty and smiled at me, his horrible dimples showing. He showed me the peace sign when the others weren't looking. When they got up to wash their hands, Genie sat near me and said, "Are you annoyed with me?"

"Grossly."

"Oh, that's a pity." He grinned, his dimples disturbing my peace of mind. "I did my best to make you look good. Avoided the messy bits. I should have warned you though." He took my hand and kissed it, his eyes twinkling all the while.

It was hard to stay angry. "Aunty's version seemed sanitised. And luckily for me, despite my role in annoying Nidhi, they still think she's pure evil." Genie laughed. "Why did Zeba visit?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

"Aunty said you had a long chat." Genie made to get up. I grabbed his arm, "What did Fish say?"

He grinned, "They gave me an earful when Zeba left. Said I was 'colluding with the enemy', called me 'an enemy of the state' and said they were calling in a 'commando' to deal with me."

"Which movie is the Commando?"

"An old Arnold Schwarzenegger one. Was on TV last night. You've got to do something about all their TV bingeing."

"Why can't you tell them?"

"They don't listen."

"What makes you think they'll listen to me?"

"You feed them and take them out. For some reason, they watch you all the time," Genie said.

The flattery loosened me. "They crib about everything I do."

"Maybe."

"No thanks whatsoever."

"Hmm..." Genie got up and moved to the kitchen with his plate.

I waited till he washed it. He came out, wiped his hands with his handkerchief, smiled broadly at me and the Gonsalveses and began to move to the door.

"Wait," I said. Genie was behaving oddly. Unnecessary smiling. He didn't chat with Uncle and Aunty. He didn't offer to make us tea! "Why are Fish so angry?"

He turned at the door and I saw his teeth in a rare smile. "They're pissed off, for sure."

"Please elaborate." 

"It's got to do with Zeba."

Fish hated my neighbour Zeba. "Yes?"

Genie scraped at a spot on the door with his index finger and concentrated his gaze on the ceiling.

"No cobwebs there, Son. We cleared them on Friday. Why don't you just tell us why Fish are upset with you," Uncle John said.

Genie straightened up from the doorway and looked me in the eye. "I should have asked you..."

"What?"

"... but things got out of hand..."

"Er, you were making out... on my sofa?" I sounded shrill. I was going to remove that cover and wash it under cover of darkness! No wonder Fish were distressed. He was definitely an enemy of the state.

"No, of course not!"

"Then what?!"

"I invited Zeba for appams and stew... on Saturday," Genie watched me, expressionlessly. For a big man that had a dangerous past, I was surprised at his fear. Aunty and Uncle were looking back and forth at me and Genie in shock. I had invited them for lunch too and Saturday promised to be pure fireworks.

I felt gobsmacked, but my rage gave way to amusement looking at Genie hiding behind the main door.

"Are you angry?" he asked finally.

No 'sorry for inviting the she devil'. "I don't know," I said.

He stared at me, a bit confused. "What do you mean? You're okay with her coming?"

"I don't know." I could see Aunty beginning to look annoyed. But whichever way I looked at it there was fog in my brain.

"Why don't you let Genie fob her off," Aunty suggested testily.

"That's very rude, Glory. It's unnecessary. Let Zeba come. Things may be different. I've never really spoken to Zeba. I'd like to have a chat. What do you say, my dear?" Uncle turned to look at me.

"Sure, Uncle. I don't see any sense in hurting Zeba's feelings. We'll try and make sure she has a good time."

All three of them looked at me strangely. Mostly incredulous at my volte face - I would have been taken aback too.

"Uncle and Aunty, I do not plan to poison the appams or stew. Genie, God help me, between now and Saturday I will have to relearn some good manners and make peace with Zeba."

"Sorry," Genie said.

"Oh, never mind. We'll have fun watching people mingle."

"Doesn't sound like fun."

"Maybe."

The three continued to stare at me. But all I could think of was the sudden brainwave I had. I couldn't stop smiling at them. I knew how I was going to play Saturday's game of chess. I couldn't wait.

"Just one question, Genie."

"Shoot."

"If you spent a considerable amount of time with Zeba this morning, including making her a cup of tea, etc, etc, why is it you didn't tell her that we went to Lonavala?"

The door slammed and I laughed.

Revenge was probably going to be sweet, easy and good fun, after all.