Fishy Chronicles 20: The Strangeness Of Happiness

I stumbled against a flower pot and felt Genie's tight grip steady me. I don’t know which was more painful, his fingers biting into my fleshy forearm or my stubbed toe.

“Why are we crawling about in the dark? I’m going to my house. I’m not doing anything illicit! Going home in pitch dark feels like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to,” I grumbled.

“Shhhh,” said Fish.

“I’m saying...”

“Too much,” Genie said. He grabbed my bags, went up the stairs in a flash and I heard the faint sound of my door being unlocked.

I wheeled the fish tank toward the lift and glared at the sleeping watchman. Our racket hadn’t woken him up. Some people were blessed. They could sleep through storms. Even though I had slept in the best beds in Cambodia, I had tossed and turned. I had heard strange noises and had had strange thoughts and only near the end of my holiday had slept long stretches, mostly because I was tired each day.

Genie loomed in my face. He picked up the fish tank and moved swiftly up the stairs. I saw a light in an upstairs window. Old Mrs Glory Gonsalves was smoking in her balcony. She only ever smoked at night and out of sight of our neighbours from the Dark Ages. She blew me a kiss and I blew one back at her.

I walked up the stairs and stopped. Genie was leaning against the wall near our home, ostensibly waiting for me, his arms crossed, his thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscled arms and torso, his nipples showing and one of his legs in front of the other, with the ankles crossed – like those middle-aged society madams trying to look thin and hip. Really, Genie, a minute and you got tired waiting for me?

I entered the flat. I sighed. It was so good to be back home. Fish were already rushing about their home tank, moving furniture, hiding their eats and trying to find their comfortable spots. Their luggage was strewn at the bottom of the tank. Five fish, so much luggage. So materialistic.

A throat cleared behind me and I turned. Genie smiled. “Good night. Your suitcase is in your room.”

                                     ****** 

This is a fictional series about the narrator, Genie, her former manservant and now friend, five opinionated fish, a devoted mosquito called Nobby and a visiting North Pole elf called Donny. They have just returned from a holiday and are now face to face with a neighbour who is in love with Genie.

                                     ****** 
I heard the doorbell ring.

Ignore, ignore, ignore! It was the weekend. I tried to shove my pillow into my ears. Then I heard a familiar voice. I immediately jumped out of bed and tiptoed to my bedroom door and listened.

It couldn’t be! I listened for several minutes. Nothing! What a time for a door to block out sound.

I tiptoed into the corridor off the hallway to hear better, but Genie caught sight of me.

“Oh, look, she’s awake,” Genie stood, smiled and gestured at me to sit near him on the sofa. I felt grubby and shabby in my long loose nightgown, especially as Zeba was looking her best in a tight, flower print halterneck dress.

He took my arm and led me toward the sofa. Genie sat next to me, leaned back, put his arm along the back of the sofa, stretched his legs and smiled expansively at Zeba.

My eyes bulged the minute I felt his arm behind my head. What was Genie thinking! His smile was cool, and hovered only around his mouth. 

My head whipped around. Zeba's smile had faltered and it was clear she was making an effort to keep smiling. 

“Zeba was asking about our trip,” Genie’s moustache said.

“Yes, Cambodia. How exciting. What did you both do?” Zeba's eyes bored into me.

“I was on a yoga retreat. But they,” Genie's free hand gestured at me, and he instantly corrected himself, “she, had the time of her life. Didn’t you, my love? Tell Zeba about your adventures.”

My love? I could feel a stake through my heart already. “E-Er... H-h-had an excellent guide and all. Went to the temples, Angkor Wat, Bayon, Ta Prohm. Y-you must go, it's a traveller's delight, for sure."

“I’m sure.” Zeba said, her eyes feasting on Genie and him smiling back at her lazily. Shit, shit, shit! I turned, desperately looking at Fish. Where was Donny, my dear elf?

I spotted them, pressed against the fish tank’s wall, watching us with no expression at all and very still. Nobby was watching from atop the tank. I turned around and saw Donny hiding behind a large potted plant on my sitting ledge near the window. I felt a little confidence creep into my being.

I looked back at Zeba and was startled by an angry look, quickly replaced by a fake smile. I felt Genie's arm fall onto my shoulder and him saying loudly into my ear. “Go get our present for Zeba. It’s the bag on the kitchen platform. Go on. And some of those chocolates.”

I got up. There were about six mangoes tied up in a fancy gauzy bag, a big red ribbon tied neatly around its neck. I opened the fridge and found two large bars of liquor chocolates in a narrow checked gift bag, sitting on a shelf. Genie seemed to have thought of everything.

When I returned, Genie and Zeba were standing and kissing each other's cheeks. I handed Zeba the mangoes and chocolates and she thanked Genie effusively and ignored me. 

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the door. She attempted to hug him but he held back. So she threw her arms around his neck and then moved back, out of the door and out of my line of vision. Genie waved and nodded and smiled and then closed both doors.

“What's going on, Genie?” I asked.

Genie shrugged, sat on the sofa and shook out the newspaper he had been reading before Zeba rang the doorbell.

I stood in front of him, plucked the newspaper out of his hands, shoved it into my left armpit, crossed my arms and waited. 

Genie grinned broadly, stretched his legs, for which I had to move out of the way, and relaxed, staring up at me, his head tilted to one side. “Fraternising with a beautiful neighbour.”

“A hateful woman.”

“Tut, tut. A human being. And an esteemed member of this Society.”

“Bullshit.”

Genie laughed. He looked at my angry face and laughed again.

I looked up. The top of the tank had slammed against the wall behind it, and against the laws of physics stayed upright precariously. 

“What the fork, Genie! What the hell are you playing at!” my dear, dear Penaaz shouted. Water splashed out of the tank, as the other fish first flew around the tank and then jumped to the top.

“Yeah,” Portas and Pervez shouted together.

I could see Genie was surprised at Fish's reactions. What did he expect! They hated Zeba as much as I did.

I remembered Nobby. He was now sitting on the bookshelf. “Why didn’t you bite Zeba, Nobby?”

“I have renounced violence.”

“Bullcrap and bullshit!” 

Genie and Nobby burst out laughing. I threw myself at Genie, but I was no match for him. He pinned me against the sofa with an arm and continued to laugh while I and Fish shouted and swore. Finally Genie put his finger on my lips and said, “Shhh. We don’t want darling Zeba to return, do we?”

I wanted to call him a name, but mostly I wanted to bounce the hardest, biggest Cambodian mango we had on Zeba's fat, hairy head. When he didn't take off his hand from my mouth or stop pinning me to the back of the sofa, I nodded angrily. After an eternity, he let me go. The idiot!

I stood up. “What is going on, Genie?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit!”

Genie laughed.

“Stop playing around with me, Genie! Are you fooling around with her?” I demanded. 

Genie stopped laughing, but continued to smile. He shrugged one shoulder.

“Out with it, Genie,” Gregory said from the tank.

“I didn't expect Zeba to visit. So soon, in any case,” Genie said.

“We're listening,” Gregory prodded.

“And I’ve been thinking these last few days... especially after her phonecalls while we were in Phnom Penh...”

“And?” I pressed.

“And I think I’ve been handling things... inefficiently.”

“Meaning?” 

“We’re going about Zeba the wrong way.”

“So all the mangoes you bought in Phnom Penh were for Zeba?” 

“No. The mangoes and chocolates on the kitchen platform were for Ms Glory. Zeba just beat her to it.”

“But you’re sending Zeba the wrong signals!”

“I’m just trying to do the neighbourly thing. Sharing fruit.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” I told him.

“Good to know.”

I had a thought. “Are you two going to be coochie cooing on a regular basis?”

“I can’t say."

“It would make me sick,” Portas said from the fish tank.

“I second that,” Gregory said. The lovers, Penaaz and Pervez, had retreated to a corner and were murmuring to themselves.

Genie patted the seat next to him. When I didn’t move, he pulled me onto the sofa. “I’ll make some tea. I offered yours to Zeba.”

I was going to say something rude when I remembered. “Did Nobby...?”

“Yes. He had the first sip. Happy?” 

I shook out the crumpled entertainment supplement of the Bombay Sentinel. What I wouldn’t give for Zeba to know a mosquito had dunked his proboscis into her tea, especially one who often chugged her blood. I struggled not to chuckle.

Papa was right. Happiness came from the strangest things. 

                                    ******

Fishy Chronicles 13: Light Packing, Slow Karma And Other Business

(Illustration by A. Peter)

That night there was a tap on my bedroom door.

Genie came in and watched me pack my suitcase. It was a nice spiffy American Tourister that I had bought when my editor had promised me a junket to Rome. A month later I learned that a young thing in the News Bureau had flown out instead.

“I said to travel light,” I heard Genie's moustache say.

“Yes. I’m travelling very light. This is only about 12 kgs.”

“What about Fish?”

“They plan to lie in a hammock, drink Breezers and read.”

Genie held my busy hands still until I looked up. “Come to the sitting room. We have to talk.”

Sudden deflation. “Are you leaving us? So soon?”

“Yes. And I’m taking you lot with me. I need to lay some ground rules.”

This is a fictional series surrounding Fish, Genie, a former thug turned manservant turned free bird, Norbert, a rum-loving mosquito, and Donny, a North Pole elf who gets his new year's wish of spending the Christmas holidays with a family.  

None of them suspects each is going to goad the other into an adventure.  

Fish comprise Gregory, the intellectual, Portas, the fitness freak, Dimitri, the narrator's favourite fish and confidante and Penaaz and Pervez a pair of lovers and thinkers who are ever fearful of losing their loved ones. 

In this episode Genie wants to take Fish and Company on a trip and orders them to travel very light... which causes heartburn in the household. 

Zeba Bobby, a neighbour with an enormous crush on Genie and who hates the narrator, gets a taste of karma.

I followed him into the sitting room, curious. Nobby and Donny were sitting on the TV stand and watching Fish in the tank. They were zipping from side to side and packing.

“Stop what you’re doing and listen to what I have to say,” Genie ordered.

Fish slowed for an instant, but then continued at breakneck speed.

“Now!” Genie leaned over the tank and said a trifle loudly. A sudden thought entered my head – what if Genie had children and they behaved exactly like Fish.

They stilled. And Genie moved to his cupboard, which was always locked. He pulled out one large knapsack and threw it on the ground between us.

“When I said travel light, I meant everything that is essential has to fit into this bag.”

Fish and I looked at Genie and at each other and we laughed. There was already a mountain of stuff at the side of their tank waiting to be packed into their fake Louis Vuitton valises.

Genie sat on the sofa and put one leg over the other and waited for us to stop.

“You're joking, right, Genie?” Gregory was smiling. He was holding a heavy book. I could read one word, Homosapiens.

“Tomorrow you may have to choose between the scales on your back or travelling. We won’t be able to run home and empty your suitcases. Total weight has to be less than 10kgs.”

“I won’t be able to take anything. Barely any clothes and underwear,” I protested.

“There's an excellent laundry service where we're staying and shops. You can buy what you need, but you won’t need to.”

I looked at Fish. They were eerily quiet. Why?

Then Pervez hoisted himself half out of the tank. He and Penaaz were a pair and we rarely heard them speak. Still they were the ones Fish went to for advice. I attributed their wisdom to the old Parsi gentleman they had lived with previously. But they were filled with the dread of the unknown and losing people close to them, especially after their parent Mr Poonawala died.

“Are you taking us in your Fokker?” Pervez asked. Penaaz looked terribly anxious.

“Well?” Gregory demanded.

“Yes. So there's not much space for luggage.”

Suddenly there was a commotion. But I could think of only one thing. “You have a plane?” And you didn't tell me?

“Yes. I use it a lot. Had it for years. Took your dad up in it a couple of times...”

I stared at him, feeling left out in every sense. Fish knew. Papa had known. Only Genie hadn’t felt the need to tell. Against my will I heard myself say, “What do you use it for?”

“Travelling,” Genie said and walked out of the door.

When I had calmed myself, I looked at the fish tank. There was a great big uproar going on. Pervez and Penaaz were completing each other's sentences angrily and vowing not to go.

“He's a madcap who's probably transporting his ganja or diamonds!” Penaaz bounced off the fish tank’s walls in agitation.

“That’s not fair. Genie's given it all up ages ago. He's on the straight and narrow,” Portas said.

“But if he has a death wish, why do we need to follow?” Pervez wailed.

“You guys have flown with Genie before?” I leaned over the tank. I needed to look Fish in the eye because I wanted straight answers.

“Yes.” Portas said, after a long time. Fish had gone silent.

“When?”

“When you were on your junket to Chhindwara.”

More shame. It had been a factory visit into the Indian hinterland that no reporter had wanted and eventually it was thrust on me.

“It was a factory visit. Junkets are to exotic locales for favoured subordinates.”

“Look at it this way. You got to see the interior of Madhya Pradesh in comfort, stayed in a small palace... the kind of experience very few are likely to have,” Gregory said, adjusting his bow tie and not making eye contact.

“Yes, you’re right. Did Papa go?”

Fish bobbed up and down in silence. Dimitri finally made his way up. “Yes. Papa was upset he was doing it behind your back. But he was very sad and the short trips cheered him. Genie promised to take you one day. We are just surprised it didn't happen sooner.”

“Why didn’t it happen sooner?”

“The tensions with your ex husband. Rohit. And when Papa also died you were always disturbed... we felt you were grieving... then Genie left. He got fed up that you couldn’t sort yourself out.”

“That’s not right,” Portas butted in. “He said you needed space. There were too many of us crowding you at any given time.”

“So he abandoned me?!” I was beginning to feel awful.

“No. Of course not!”

“Is that why you guys left?”

Dimitri looked at me for a long time. I could hear Penaaz beg him “no, don’t say it” over and over.

“We left because it was time to let you figure out things. Plus, it was time to move on. Our lifecycle is very short. We always knew we were going to come back. It wasn't just you who lost a beloved parent, you know. Us and Genie too.”

I felt my throat close and nodded. I knew Papa had taken an instant liking to Genie and vice versa. Papa had even got a carpenter to make a cupboard and bed for Genie. And Genie always sat on the sofa or armchairs, unlike the servants. For my father, Genie had been family. For Genie, I suspect, Papa had been his father.

I picked up the bag and slid open the zip and looked into it without seeing. Whatever I had heard hadn’t changed a thing – I was getting out of Peaceful Society for 10 days. And if the Fokker was any indication, I was going to have the time of my life!

“Right, kids. I’m going to take my aviators and wear three pairs of underwear on the Fokker. Be sure to pack your stuff tonight, else I'll commandeer the extra space. What about your things, Donny?”

He pointed at his tiny holdall. It would fit into a sidepocket.

                                      ******
I felt a little fear when I thought of the Fokker, but I was good for an adventure.

Last night I spoke to Penaaz and Pervez about the trip. I had joked about us crashing into the ocean and being with Mr Poonawala and my parents sooner than we thought. But when Fish started angrily raining water on me, I changed tack and told them that I trusted Genie with my life.

I didn’t think Pervez or Penaaz would believe me. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t share my feelings of loss. Or my real fear that all my loved ones would either die or desert me. Neither could I assure them that a plane crash had never been my idea of a top killer of loved ones.

Now the front flap of the knapsack was stuffed with Fish's toys, comics and finger food and they were in their airsuits, impatiently waiting for me to stuff the last of my things into the bag. I hurriedly switched off the lights, checked all the switches and taps and locked my two front doors.

Unusually, Genie was already in the cab – normally he held the door open for me. But I soon realised why. I saw Zeba Bobby rushing towards us on very high heels, in a caftan with a plunging neckline. Plus she wasn't wearing a bra. No wonder Genie was terrified. I jumped in and the Ola driver sped off.

But I needed to finger Genie and though I thought she was awful, I asked, “What’s wrong with Zeba that you can’t be around her for a few minutes?”

I almost shrivelled under his glare. He turned away and looked out the window. After several minutes he glared at me again, “Why couldn’t you tell her to bugger off after she blocked you out of the Christmas preps.”

Fish looked up at the sky. I shrugged weakly. I had felt outnumbered and bullied by the women of Peaceful Society and I hadn’t been able to fight back.

Genie continued to speak, “I’m damned if I’m going to talk to her. I thought you were smart though.”

“Why?”

“Blocking her number and not baking the cakes.”

“I’m now the villain of the society.”

“Of course you are. Peaceful Society is filled with idiots, morons and bullies. If there is someone sensible here, he or she is probably trying to move out. But I’m here now. And Fish and Nobby. We'll see what they throw at us.”

“Yes, Sweetie,” I felt a touch. It was Penaaz. “Be true to yourself.”

I had a sudden thought. “Zeba cornered me at the gate the other day, very angry.”

“Yes?” Penaaz said.

“She said every time she walked past our window, someone threw water at her. But the watchman told her I wasn't at home. Would you know anything about it?”

“Yes.” She smiled beatifically – probably the first time I’d ever seen Penaaz smile. “A lot, actually. Let’s just say, sometimes you can’t wait for karma to come around.”

Fish, Nobby and Donny tittered and Genie stretched in his seat and his body relaxed.

So did I. Only they didn’t know that someone had been watching.

An elderly neighbour I’d given a lift to a few days ago had cackled about Genie washing the windows diligently... and how it always coincided with Zeba passing by.

It probably explained the sun umbrella Zeba now sported everywhere – even at night.

Poor Zeba. She was madly in love with Genie but unable to do a thing about it. And worse, Genie was living with loser me.

Karma had a boot in someone's gut, for sure.