A Long Way Home

by Mitali Meelan

  Vartika slapped my arm so hard the salesgirl shot us a look. ‘You’re going to say that? This is going to set her up for failure in life.’

  Rubbing the spot she’d smacked, I narrowed my eyes. ‘How?’

  ‘You give her anything she wants and she’ll never stop wanting. She has to know that she doesn’t need to depend on materialistic things to find joy in life. She has to be mindful of her conditions and make honest, conscious efforts to change a situation if she isn’t happy about it.’

  I simply looked at her, wondering where she’d learned this. ‘Why don’t you accompany me?’ I asked playfully, but still meaning it. I had anyway wanted her to meet my family, one person at a time. ‘You be the lesson, I’ll be the gift.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘I wouldn’t mind, but it’ll be embarrassing for your sister. She might feel mortified. And of course, the impact of you telling her will be far stronger than anyone else because you’ll set a positive example that if you work hard in your life, you can in fact get anything you want.’

  I paused. She smiled a little and continued, ‘This will also be a good opportunity to let her open up.’ Saying that, she patted my shoulder and turned to other clothes. Taking a step back from the rack, I kept my eyes on her, falling a little more in love. There was more to her than just her foul mouth, brash attitude and drinking. She had a sharp business mind and was mostly trusting of people. She went out of her way to help those she believed in, even when they didn’t deserve most of it. If it weren’t for her constant pestering, her words of encouragement, I might never have taken this blind leap of faith.

  Vartika sometimes reminded me of the sun, bright, burning, full of life. Her aura engulfed those around her. Some people had that blessed certainty in their abilities, their presence making you feel like your existence isn’t nearly as important as theirs. But that was the only difference between the both of us. She believed she deserves the world, while I thought I didn’t.

  For this dream that might set me back ten years financially if I failed, I was exhausting my savings, taking a loan larger than what Baba had taken out for Arihant’s medical bills and our education combined. But these thoughts were becoming easier to deal with. I didn’t get tangled up in doubts as much as I used to. For once, I was beginning to think I deserved to be happy just as much as anyone else. And I credited this thought alteration to Vartika alone.

  She whirled around to me, as if reading my mind, and tilted her head to a side. ‘How’s this?’

  Embarrassed that she’d caught me staring at her, I shook my head. But she didn’t seem to notice. ‘Nothing like the one,’ I told her.

  ‘Not for Saloni,’ she said, her lips curving to form a smirk. ‘For me.’

  I raised an eyebrow, glanced down at what she’d picked out. ‘Black again?’

  She shrugged and vanished behind the curtained changing room. While I waited on the bench outside, I wondered how much I didn’t know about the girl I was starting to see my future with. By the looks of it, she liked shopping despite wearing one colour all the time. And I was starting to like this side of her. At this point, it was really getting difficult not to like something she did. Maybe this is what falling in love felt like. When nothing the person does or says can alter your feelings for her.

  I heard her use an expletive from behind the curtain, followed by something solid falling to the ground. I got up from the seat, stood outside her changing room. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked, leaning closer.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘This damn chain wouldn’t… huh, got it. And that was my phone. Hold it please.’

  She pushed her hand out and I took the phone, then sighed. ‘How long will you take?’ I called out. ‘We’re getting late!’

  But this time, instead of Vartika answering me, I heard a male voice. ‘Bhau?’ I shifted and saw Arihant standing next to me, confused and surprised. He was holding the dress I’d been looking for since the past hour and a half.

  Vartika stepped out of the changing room. ‘How’s this? It’s a little tight around the hip, but I think it’ll make do. It’s too pretty to be—’ she stopped when she saw my brother, then greeted him reluctantly, ‘Hey. Arihant, right?’

  He gave her a forced smile and a disgusted look, clearly regarding himself as someone above her, which made me want to knock out his teeth. But that was a fleeting thought. Mostly, I just wanted to be left alone. But of course, with my brother around, you’d hardly get that luxury.

  ‘So, what brings you here?’ he asked.

  I couldn’t resist the sarcasm. ‘You know, just trying to find the right place to plant a bomb. What do you think?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You can never answer properly.’

  ‘Am I obliged?’

  ‘I’ll just be back,’ Vartika muttered.

  ‘Why do you always try to vanish? Let me see your dress,’ I told her, wanting him to see that I loved her, whether she realized it or not, and that I wasn’t ashamed of the life I’d chosen and he had no say in this matter, whatsoever. But when I saw Vartika, I didn’t need to pretend. In all honesty, the dress did look good on her, accentuating her curves that I didn’t get to see all that much. ‘It’s nice,’ I said, smiling. ‘Do you want it?’ When our eyes met, she caught on, realizing this was for my brother, and went along with it.

  ‘I mean, I like it,’ she said. ‘It’s too pricey though.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘What are you trying to prove to me?’ Arihant asked.

  Watching Vartika get in and slide the curtains closed, I asked, ‘Why would I want to prove anything to you?’

  ‘I don’t know, but you’re not half as nice to any of us. I’m no one to tell you what to do with your time—’

  ‘Good,’ I said nonchalantly. ‘So don’t.’

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. It was Joycelin, asking if I’d be free tomorrow for a meeting with the MD. ‘Is there a problem?’ I sent her. Before she could reply, my brother was in my face again.

  ‘You know,’ Arihant said, following me as I didn’t realize I had subconsciously walked away from him. ‘I wish I was staying home instead of you.’ There he went again, taking the high moral ground he stood on, looking under his nose at everyone who passed by him. ‘At least that way the house wouldn’t perpetually be drowned in sad miserable energy. Even when someone is a little happy, you have a way of bringing them down.’

  His accusation got to me and the message had me on edge. ‘Did I ask you to move out?’ I asked, a little too loud for the place we were at. But at this point, I didn’t care. ‘If you regret it so much, then go home and do something for the rest of them. Leave me alone.’

  He held out the dress between us. ‘I’m here to get this for our sister. This piece of cloth takes out a chunk of my salary, but I don’t mind spending it on her because I know she’s learned her lesson and no person…’

  I tuned out his blabber, my head aching and only heard the last few words from his speech, … ‘I do more than you ever will.’

  At this point, I was simply tired. ‘Good. Now go home and be the better person,’ I said, glad it had to be him instead of me anyway.

  ‘Yeah, I will.’

  With that, he turned and marched towards the counter. Joycelin’s message dropped in but I watched Arihant for a while before I replied to her. He asked at the counter to gift wrap it, something I wouldn’t have thought of doing. There was no doubt he would do a better job. He had a larger stock of words and better emotional range. For once, I was glad to have him as a brother.

  CHAPTER 7

  ‘W

  hen are you going to do it?’ Vartika spared me a glance, looking at me through her new glasses that she had bought online a few days ago. Her small nose vanished underneath the thickness, her face half covered. For some reason, I found it attractive, in contrast to the opinion of others.

  ‘Do what?’ I asked her and slid thinly chopped onions into a hot pan on the burner.
It sizzled aggressively and a thick waft rose in the air. Holding the pan up, I stirred the mixture in a few swift motions, then moved to the next chicken gravy dish cooking on the gas burner alongside it.

  ‘Talk to your parents,’ Vartika replied, stepping out of my way, ‘about you leaving your job.’

  Scooping up a thick chunk of butter, I tossed it into the tadka in the next pan and gave a shake to the mix-up, blending it. ‘Yeah, I’ll do it.’

  ‘What are you waiting for? World War three?’ Just then, Binod, the server, slapped a fifth ticket above the counter and disappeared out the door with the roti platter. Chicken Fry was my next order. I turned to Aamir, the apprentice.

  ‘Bucket!’ I said. Within the next second, he was at my side, pouring two litres of water in front of me.

  I had spent the first one year of my job in this kitchen chopping one vegetable after another and refilling the stock of herbs and spices kept in the open steel storage lined in front of the cooks, making sure they didn’t run out of any ingredients. I watched them work expertly, gliding along from one dish after another, tossing ingredients around and concocting meal after meal. It was magical simply to watch them.

  It took me a year to get to the speed anywhere near them. Before Aamir was hired, we did all the slicing and stocking, which was stressful and took a longer time. With him around, I could enjoy the cooking part a little more.

  ‘Is it necessary to talk about this right now?’ I asked her, pouring the gravy into a bowl and garnishing it with minced coriander. ‘I’m a little slammed, if you can’t tell.’

  ‘Being busy cannot be a reason,’ she said. She ran the pass and checked the kabab platter that Hari, a line cook at the grill station, had prepared, and I turned to examine my dish before passing it along to Binod, who slapped another order note over my counter.

  ‘I’m not ready,’ I told her.

  She gave me a look. ‘You have a plan in place, you have the licence in hand, you have the job almost behind you. There’s nothing more to “being ready” than this.’

  I dabbed my forehead on a napkin and turned to Vartika. ‘The fear of failure,’ I said to her, my voice surprisingly calm among all the noises of the busy kitchen. She paused, turning to face me. In that moment, as our gaze linked, she was all I could see and as the world fell away, words came easily to me. ‘That’s what paralyses me to the bone and terrifies me to the core. The fear of letting people down; those who believe in me and those who depend on me.’

  She motioned forward and placed her hand on my shoulder, as if transferring some of her strength to me. She gave me an understanding look. ‘We all have insecurities. If we stopped to find a time when we were truly ready, we’d never find the courage to take the leap.’ Saying that, she grabbed a bottle of water farther down the counter and held it out to me. ‘You haven’t drunk a drop since you came in. I don’t want my employees fainting on me when there’s so much to do.’

  I took the bottle from her and watched as she glided along to supervise others.

  Fear made its way up from the soles of my feet. I stood outside the house, staring at the door but not finding the courage to press the doorbell. The muffled sound of television came from inside, Saloni saying something.

  Maybe I should do what Arihant is doing.

  No, I reminded myself, my palms breaking into a sweat. That was a shortcut, one that I wasn’t entirely sure I could pull off as well as he did.

  Saloni opened the door, but her eyes were fixated on the television in the living room. She barely glanced at me. I wiped my clammy palms on my pants and eased the door close behind me. I stood at the entrance of the living room for a second. Saloni sat next to Mom with her book open in her lap, staring at the screen. Mom sat in the chair, peeling a mountain of pea pods in her plate while looking back and forth at her work and the screen. Baba sat on the baithak, his legs outstretched.

  ‘You’re early today,’ Mom said, her face breaking into a smile. ‘Want coffee or something?’ I declined the offer and with a shrug, she turned to the television.

  ‘I have an announcement to make,’ I said and realized I was so low, my voice was drowned in the screams on the television. Saloni winced as the opposing team made a score. I lowered the volume of the cricket match. Taking advantage of this brief silence, I said, ‘I’m quitting my job.’

  Saloni stopped chewing the pods she’d stolen from Mom’s plate, and Baba turned to me. It wasn’t a loud reaction, just tiny gestures that said I had their attention. Confidence was the key, I reminded myself. Confidence was what made Arihant’s lie so convincing. I was speaking the truth. I had nothing to fear. ‘I resigned a week ago,’ I added.

  ‘Why?’ Baba asked, more curious than angry. ‘Did you find a better offer?’

  ‘You never told us you were applying for another job,’ Mom said, putting her plate of peas aside.

  ‘I…’ I hesitated, ‘I haven’t applied for another job.’

  Now, he frowned, his already creased forehead deepening further. ‘Then?’

  ‘I quit it. And not just that,’ I said, looking down at my rough palms, then back up at them. ‘I’m quitting this field.’

  Saloni’s eyes widened and she breathed out, ‘Wow.’ I couldn’t decide what her reaction meant, but she was my last concern right now.

  ‘What does that mean?’ That was Mom.

  Baba turned off the television and that was when I knew I had his undivided attention. Slowly, he shifted to face me. ‘Is this a joke?’

  ‘I am the last person to joke about matters like this.’

  ‘Or joke about anything,’ Saloni muttered, scoffing and Mom smacked her arm. ‘Ow!’ She rubbed the spot. ‘I was only joking.’

  ‘Go to your room and study.’

  ‘I’ll be quiet,’ she whispered, holding up her palms in defence, and shrank into her seat.

  ‘Is there any problem?’ Baba asked, calmly, rationally. ‘Is it too stressful for you?’

  ‘I told you to take holidays,’ Mom intervened, getting to her feet and coming over to sit next to me. ‘You are losing so much weight. They are sucking the life out of you.’

  ‘You can ask them for a break,’ Baba offered. ‘Take a holiday for a week, rest properly.’

  It almost broke my heart to tell them the rest of the truth. They had never been this supportive. The fact of the matter was I’d never given them a chance to care. I’d only blocked them out, assuming I had to do it all alone. Regret crawled on my skin, but I refocused on the topic.

  ‘That’s not the reason, Aai,’ I said, brushing her hand off my back that she’d been caressing. ‘And no, the job is not stressful. But any job in this field will be slow poison for me.’ I said each word with difficulty, as if I were pulling out teeth.

  ‘What will you do then?’

  ‘Actually, I have been working in a restaurant as a chef for the past two years.’

  That brought whole different shades of expressions. Saloni, excited with this new revelation, leaned forward. Mom and Dad exchanged looks, then he frowned and I could see confusion in his eyes, paving way to what I only hoped was the lesser, mellow version of a volcano.

  ‘You cook,’ he repeated slowly, ‘in a restaurant.’

  I nodded. ‘It’s a place in the suburb. A…’ I added, punching the word out of my gut, ‘A bar, to be precise.’

  Mom gasped and Baba blew up. ‘What are you saying? I’m asking you again. Are you joking with us?’

  Calmly, I said, ‘I wish I was.’

  ‘But why?’ He blinked, his face scrunched as if blocking out my confession. ‘You have a great job in a reputed company. Everyone keeps telling you that you’re lucky to have found this footing in the world, especially in a city overcrowded by aspirants. People in my office say that. In fact, Bhuvan’s daughter was going to call you in a few days to ask you about the procedure to get into your company, if you could help her with it. She just passed out from IIT.’

  ‘What’s her name?’ Mom
asked. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Mom.’ I gave her a look and she leaned back, making a face. ‘Yes, Baba, I have a job worth envying. But have you stopped to think that maybe I don’t think the same? Have you ever just sat down once in twenty-seven years of your life as my father and asked me if I want to eat what you’re trying to serve me? If I want to be something other that what you think I should be?’

  He waited for a moment to digest that. ‘So, suddenly now you don’t like your job and expect us to support your decision of leaving it, just because you’re bored.’

  I shook my head. ‘I am not doing this because I’m bored or don’t like my job,’ I reasoned, ‘I am doing this because I like something else a lot more. I am passionate about cooking.’

  ‘Where is this passion suddenly coming from?’ Mom asked, incredulous. ‘If you liked it so much, why don’t you help me in the kitchen every day? I could definitely use some help.’

  I could understand their surprise and I was prepared to explain. ‘It’s not sudden, Aai. It’s just that you’re learning about this now,’ I told them. ‘Whenever I cook, I feel like I’ve been woken up from a sleep and I didn’t realize this is how your life should ideally feel like.

  ‘Since I was a kid, I’ve been sleepwalking through my school and college life, doing what I’ve been told, not questioning anything, not finding the fire, the enthusiasm to do anything groundbreaking. I have always gone with the flow and, after a point, I was beginning to wonder—was there anything more to my life than this? Slogging through college, finding a job, slogging there, then finding a partner, settling in life and passing on whatever little life you had left to a child and encouraging him or her to do the same? I have always wondered what made these people who chased their dreams different. Where were they and how did they find what they were passionate about? And I found my answer when I visited the Copper Club, where I’d seen a vacancy for a chef. I applied to it, got selected and picked up most of the skills on the job.’

  A pause followed my short speech. Dad broke the silence. ‘And that is what you think you want to do for the rest of your life. You want to cook for people, serve them in a bar. Maybe you can start dancing to earn some extra money.’