Fishy Chronicles 62: Lockdown Diaries – Lies And Underwear

Illustration by A. Peter

“So unmanly, I tell you!” Anjali seethed at Genie’s perfidy (Cooking The Goose). She glared in the direction of the Gonsalves’s flat. To us, Genie had suddenly shrunk a foot.

We heard the key turn in the door's lock and, in a flash, arranged ourselves around it.

I looked at handsome Genie and was at a loss for words. The sweltering Mumbai heat had done nothing to him except make his face a little red and sweat stain his tight white t-shirt in places. His handlebar moustache was still stiff and raring to go for a marchpast.

Beside me, Anjali spluttered like mustard in hot oil. “You told on us! So unmanly! So… ooof! It was a one-time thing… someone else would have forgiven and forgotten but you… you!”

Genie looked down his long pointy nose at us and one eyebrow rose haughtily. “What is it that I am supposed to have done?”

“Genie, yoohoo, Genie, sweetie!” Zeba Bobby, my luscious neighbour, cooed from her doorway, and began rushing towards mine. I tried to pull Genie away from the door, but he didn’t budge. I tried to close the door, but Zeba pushed it open angrily and glared at me.

“Where’s your mask, Zeba! Go and get it, don’t you even listen to the news!” Anjali burst out. Zeba shrank back, an uncertain look on her face and backed out quickly.

Genie turned his head around to look, but Zeba had now entered her home and shut her door firmly. “That was harsh, even by your standards, Anjali.”

“I don’t have standards, remember?”

“Tut, tut, save for rifling through my things, I believe you know the difference between right and wrong.”

“Don’t you think you’ve tormented us enough!”

Genie looked at the ground for several seconds, ostensibly thinking, and looked up. “No.” He pushed past us and put the bag he was carrying down in a corner of the kitchen. He noisily put a large stainless-steel vessel in the sink, squirted some dishwashing liquid into it and turned on the tap. The water gushed into it. We crowded into my small kitchen, moving close to Genie. He held up his arms, “Stand back. Don’t touch me until I’ve washed these things with detergent and have had a bath.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Anjali said.

“No. If you want to stay alive during a pandemic, these are things we have to do... like killing any viruses on these” he held up the bag of vegetables and emptied them into the soap water. He turned towards the sink, and I could see Anjali working herself into a rage. I pinched her arm and shook my head.

“Come on, Genie. We just opened a drawer,” I said. Genie had seen us open his bedside table drawer and not his cupboards. “You could have thrashed it out with us rather than snitching to Uncle John. What are he and Aunty going to do? Come here and spank us? Uncle is too weak to give us a mighty whack with a rolling pin. It was unnecessary. Childish!”

“Ahh. Why do I deserve any respect, is that it?” Genie turned around, his eyes coldly boring into mine. “This is your home, and I’m a guest, that kind of thing, right? If it hadn’t been for the pandemic, I’d have left you both to your own devices. But here I am, stuck.”

I bristled. “Please don’t stay on my account. I’m perfectly able to fend for myself.”

“Hah!”

This is a fictional series about the narrator and her parents’ former man Friday Genie. The narrator and Genie are home bound because of the Covid-19 pandemic. But tensions run deep.

I stared at Genie, wanting to scream at him and kick his ass, but he was now bent over the sink as though in pain… and trembling.

“Hey, are you okay. Genie?” I moved closer, my hand on his shoulder, craning my head to look into his face.

“YOU!” I grabbed his t-shirt and tried to shake him. “YOUUUUU!!!” He stood up and laughed, holding my hands and laughing into my face. “YOU TROUBLEMAKER!”

“What’s going on?” Anjali said, confused.

I tried to launch myself into Genie, but he had a vice hold of me and was laughing wildly. “The idiot’s fooling about with us, Anjali. You idiot! Let me go, LET ME GO, GENIE.”

“Sshhh! What will the neighbours think, darling,” Genie said, releasing me. I grabbed a dishcloth, trying to stop myself from hitting him with it. I wiped the soap water off my neck where he had grabbed me. He was back at the sink, gently soaping a fat red tomato and looking at it tenderly.

“So much love for a tomato. Is that what you do for Zeba?” I said. Anjali poked me to stop.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on what you mean by ‘do’.”

I opened my mouth but Anjali’s hand covered it. She shook her head at me, and I had a sudden epiphany that this was a war I could never hope to win.

“What exactly did you tell Uncle John?” I said.

“About what?”

“About us!”

“Oh. This and that.”

“Care to elaborate?” 

“I may have told Uncle that two young ladies were caught with their hands in my underwear drawer… examining things.”

“Whattttt!” Anjali spluttered.

I felt my face turn hot. “WE DIDN’T TOUCH YOUR UNDIES!”

“I know you didn’t. But Uncle doesn’t know that.”

“Why-Why would you say something so horrid!” Anjali said, embarrassed.

“It’s called something… something. Ahh, can’t recall the word…”

“What?” I said.

“What’s the word?” Anjali said.

“Ah. Got it. It’s called tit for tat.” He grinned and gently rotated another large shiny tomato at us. If looks could kill, ours would have done someone in. But really, what was there to say. I’d never be able to show my face outside now. I’d be known as that woman who had nothing better to do than root through a man’s delicates. Terrible!

I moved away from that evil man. Anjali glared at Genie, but he was now examining a cauliflower with more interest than he did the tomato.

I slid into the sitting room, took the binoculars from the coffee table, it hadn’t gone back into the cupboard as Anjali and I had started watching the Bollywood actor (Arushmaan Verma, Love Thy Neighbour) in the opposite building. I stood behind the curtain, and trained it through a gap in the curtains.

I felt frustration and rage. Uncle John and Aunty Glory were in their bedroom, using their binoculars and watching Genie in the kitchen with Anjali. They had just witnessed the whole drama. And we had now become their ‘lockdown’ entertainment.

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Fishy Chronicles 59: The Escape

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.
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