Meet Me In the Middle

by Vani Mahesh

  Anu began to giggle. ‘You sound like a fortune cookie!’

  Sameer smiled. ‘I am feeling like one too! Do you remember Teju?’

  Anu squinted at him suspiciously. ‘Of course. The air-hostess who turned you down.’

  Sameer smiled. ‘Not any more. Now she is all turned on and around. We are seeing each other.’

  Anu smiled. ‘Sameer, you have to live a little less! Get married, have children. Join the married people’s club for all-things-sedate.’

  As soon as Sameer dropped her at her parents’ house, Anu crashed on the bed. She would pick up Vicky later when she felt sober. Also, her mother-in-law was like a sniffer dog (a gentle one, though) and would smell beer on Anu from a mile. And she was someone who boasted to everyone that her son, though had been to so many countries, never touched alcohol or meat. Well, the meat part was true.

  Sleeping on her old bed, Anu thought about what Sumitra aunty had said, that she needed to relax for a while. Then thought about what Sameer had said. That she had to get a life. Determined to do both, she texted Sanju. ‘To our new beginnings.’ She put the emoji of two mugs clinging.

  Sanju immediately sent two smilies in return. Then he wrote more. ‘Come to my parent’s place. I am here with Vicky.’

  Anu felt abnormally happy. She and Sanju were back to being Romeo and Juliet! She only had to hatch a plan to live a little more now. Then it suddenly occurred to her. She could take up tennis! There were two courts in Verdant Green, according to the realtor. She had after all taken tennis coaching (though she missed more than she attended) for a year in high school. She would pick up Sanju’s racquet from her in-law’s place. That was a lot more Verdant Green-worthy than the one her parents had bought for her.

  15

  Anu’s mother-in-law offered to keep Vicky for a few days so that Anu could focus on getting the house in order. Then, as a return gesture, Anu invited her in-laws over for dinner on Friday night. Her mother-in-law had very exacting standards but Anu had Rathnamma and her daughter who could meet those standards. Her mother-in-law looked pleased with the invite. Unlike Anu’s mother, Sanju’s mother only very occasionally showed up uninvited.

  Anu and Sanju made good use of that alone time that night to watch some non-stop TV till late into the night. With the TV still blaring some episode of Suits, they collapsed and slept off on their respective TV-viewing sofas.

  The next morning, as soon as Sanju left, Anu sat down to make some calls. She was going to get Sumitra aunty’s money back.

  She called the first Montessori school on her list of fifty. ‘Hi, I am looking to put my son into fourth grade.’

  When the receptionist chirped that they would be happy to take her on a tour of the school, Anu asked. ‘I was wondering if you have a complete kit for upper elementary classes. Materials that help children move from concrete to abstract thinking? The Dew Drops school has them.’

  As Anu had expected, the receptionist asked what exactly Anu was looking for. Feeling pleased with her ingenuity, Anu gave the name of the kit Sumitra aunty had bought and the name of the seller. ‘I heard this is the only place where it is sold.’

  She made the same call to ten other schools before she got super tired. She could call the others later. For good measure, she also called the seller posing as a school owner and asked for that same kit.

  Then she got dressed all determined to start tennis. She had picked up her sports shorts from her parents’ house that she had worn just once to run a marathon. That was a few years back before she had Vicky. To cut a long story short, Anu had to abandon the marathon after just a kilometre because she thought she was having a heart attack. Sanju had to stop too and rush her to the hospital where they said she was not having a heart attack but was just not used to running.

  When Anu wore those shorts and a matching dry-fit T-shirt that morning, she suddenly felt ultra-sporty. Then she made the mistake of looking at herself in a full-length mirror. The horror of horrors! She looked like that chubby dancer who gyrated far behind Madhuri Dixit in the eighties. Anu knew she wasn’t fat (no way!) but probably not yet toned enough to look good in those shorts.

  She settled for something a lot less ordinary—track pants and a loose-fitting T-shirt. Picking up Sanju’s racquet, she peeked into the mirror again. Now she looked quite nice to herself. She had read somewhere that one had to be a great player or a girl in a ponytail to be accepted into a sports club. She prepped up her high ponytail once more before stepping out.

  Rathnamma flashed a dispassionate look at her new avatar but said nothing. Anu missed Radha who would have gushed and said how pretty she looked. That didn’t matter. She was going to start a new life. A life full of tennis, swimming, and fancy eating to compensate for the calorie loss. Anu strode confidently towards the tennis court.

  She went to the gate that she knew opened into the tennis court. She had done that research the previous evening because she didn’t want to look foolish walking all around the property searching for the court. She flashed a bright smile to the Jackie Chan-lookalike guard and walked towards the gate. She had seen people do the same the previous evening.

  But Jackie Chan, who never stopped anyone thus far, stopped her! ‘Madam, have you signed up for this session?’

  Anu was stumped. What was this signing up thing? ‘Hmm … no. I can do that now.’

  The guard flashed her a wicked smile. ‘No, madam. You have to book the court in advance.’

  Already people walking inside were casting condescending glances at her. Mostly men with a salt-and-pepper beard and well-preserved women in their late forties or early fifties. To Anu’s chagrin, they were all in short skirts looking nice and toned. She was the grandma there in track pants! Then she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘Anu! Surprise! Who are you playing with?’ Anu wanted the earth to break open and swallow her. It was Meena.

  ‘Mmm … not with anyone in particular. Thought I could come here and find a partner.’ To Anu’s relief, Meena looked quite comical in her skirt.

  ‘Okay. Let her inside. She can play with us today.’ Meena ordered the guard pompously. Anu knew the sane option at that point would have been to just run home, but she followed Meena meekly.

  After a quick round of hellos and hugs with her friends, Meena turned to Anu. ‘You warm up for a bit. By then we will play two games.’

  ‘Sure,’ Anu mumbled. Somehow, leave alone warming up even moving herself seemed like a herculean task. She felt unbelievably self-conscious. Taking a chair, Anu glanced around. It was beautiful just like everything else in that place. Three courts next to one another, lined by palm trees and flowerbeds. The people in the other two courts looked very professional. Mostly men but some women battling it out with men. It was almost ten in the morning and that meant the players were mostly retirees or homemakers.

  Anu focussed on Meena and her friends. Much to her chagrin, they turned out to be quite good! No Serena Williams but at least her cousins hundred times removed. She still had an opportunity to turn tail and run but Anu decided to stick around. When she played in high school, she was not bad at all. How hard can it be to whack the tiny ball around with a huge racquet?

  Meena walked up to Anu and told her to take her place. Anu was sure it was only to assess her skill-level and not out of any benevolence. But that was still all right. She at least got to play. Taking a deep calming breath, Anu walked into the ground on wobbly legs. Why hadn’t she run?

  The woman who was her partner flashed the most unfriendly smile while doing some kind of twisty, jumpy warm up. Then even before Anu had her racquet in place, the woman served. As Anu watched in horror, the ball got returned by the opponent and raced towards her at a thousand kilometres per hour. Nobody hit that hard in high school! At first, Anu tried to duck the ball and then out of sheer self-defence, held her racquet to it. By some miracle, the ball crossed the court and landed in the opponent’s court.

  Anu, remembering what her coach used to say
, did a tiny jump and was all ready to receive the return. Then, the world around her began to dance and she started to see twinkling stars before her. Did someone shoot her point-blank? Nope. The ball was smashed right onto her face. That is all.

  When she opened her eyes, a woman in a saree was fanning her with a newspaper. May be an attendant. Meena stood next to her trying to look concerned.

  ‘Anu, I thought you knew how to play! So sorry I got you into trouble.’ When she cooed, Anu wished someone had shot her point-blank. Then she wished someone had shot Meena point-blank.

  Anu sat up and murmured. ‘You go ahead and play. I am all right. I am out of practice, that is all.’

  Meena walked away with a friend making sure Anu heard her loud and clear. ‘Doesn’t look like she was ever in practice to be out of it!’

  Anu had no more anger or humiliation left in her. Grabbing her racquet, she walked out. That was when she noticed a man walking in step with her.

  ‘Rough morning, ye?’ The man said. He was a fifty-something white man.

  ‘Don’t rub it in.’ Anu, to her surprise, actually laughed. The man had very kind eyes and he was not mocking her. ‘Not a rough morning, it is a disastrous morning.’

  ‘Nope. Disastrous would have been if the ball had killed you. ‘I am Pete, by the way.’

  ‘Anu Misfit.’

  The man laughed heartily. ‘Welcome to the club, then.’ He raised an imaginary glass in a toast. ‘To Anu not dying.’

  16

  ‘Do you want to have a cup of coffee? I am headed to the coffee shop.’ Pete made an offer Anu couldn’t refuse. She could use some company in that strange land that was in Bangalore but not Bangalore.

  As they sat down with coffee, Pete asked. ‘So what is the story behind the forlorn look you are sporting?’

  Anu sighed. ‘How much time have you got?’

  Pete shrugged. ‘How much coffee can you buy?’

  ‘I will make it short then.’ Anu twirled her coffee to dissolve the creamy heart they had made. ‘I don’t want to be in Verdant Green. I want to go home but I can’t.’

  ‘Hmm, where is home?’

  ‘You wouldn’t know. Vijaynagar. The real Bangalore.’

  ‘Real Bangalore, is it? What is this place then?’ Pete sounded amused but he also looked curious.

  ‘This is a pretend western suburb. Where are the cows, the dogs, and the street vendors?’ Anu sounded like Arnab Goswami to her own ears. She had to become a little less animated.

  ‘I went to Gandhi Bazar,’ Pete spoke. It took Anu a moment to understand Pete’s mispronunciation of the place. ‘It was so vibrant with flowers and fruits and whatnot. But along the way, there were also piles and piles of garbage and construction debris and horrendous traffic.’ Pete was not being snobbish about what he said. He was just sharing his awe mixed with horror.

  ‘I love the city with its chaos, traffic, processions and noise. I don’t like to live in this isolated bubble where I have to pay five-hundred rupees for a coffee.’ Anu put her cup down. ‘Nice meeting you, Pete. And, thanks for the coffee.’

  ‘Wait, Anu. I didn’t mean to offend you.’

  ‘None taken. I just want to sleep off the humiliation at the court.’

  ‘I am sure nobody even remembers you by now. So don’t feel humiliated.’ Pete patted Anu’s hand. ‘Come back to the court at three. I will play with you.’

  Anu’s eyes lit up, as they always did when she was excited, giving her away completely. ‘Will you?’

  ‘Don’t look so hopeful! I coach two kids at three in the afternoon. You can join in.’

  ‘How old are they? Kindergartners?’ Anu rolled her eyes but she was going to take up on the offer.

  ‘Close. Fourth graders. They could beat you, though.’

  ‘Very comforting. What do you charge?’ Anu looked at him suspiciously. ‘An arm? A leg? Liver?’

  ‘Heart,’ Pete replied solemnly. ‘A heartfelt thank you is all I take.’

  ‘That is what he said.’ Anu smiled, quoting Michael Scott.

  ‘Michael Scott fan, ye!’ Pete laughed. ‘Nice meeting you, Anu.’ He quite mispronounced her simple name too.

  ‘Did I tell you the twins I coach are my grandsons?’

  Anu laughed. ‘I would have remembered if you did. If it is all in the family, can I bring my son too sometime?’

  ‘More the merrier. Bring him along! By the way, a smile suits you better than a frown.’

  Anu had the best time that afternoon. ‘Thank you, Pete.’ Anu smiled all sweaty and pink after hitting a few balls that Pete fed her very very slowly. ‘I feel like a champion!’

  ‘You are what you feel! See you tomorrow. Same time, same place.’

  Feeling light and fit, Anu walked home through the calm winding paths, flowering trees on either side, kids biking. Somehow everything looked beautiful. So beautiful, it felt surreal. This was a slice out of some European countryside. She had gone on a twenty-one-day package tour to Europe with her parents. Her family was considered affluent in Vijaynagar for doing so. But probably only the maids and gardeners took such package tours here. She thought of Vicky and how excited he would be to play tennis with Pete’s grandkids.

  Then her eyes fell on a building that stood a little distance. The red-tile-roofed building stood in stark contrast to a sweep of green grass around it. Anu looked at it mesmerized and started walking towards it. As she neared it, she squinted against the evening Sun and read the word ‘Karma’ etched artistically on a brass signboard. Her reverie began to crumble slowly as she realized it was a yoga and Ayurvedic health centre. She would probably have to sell herself to even set foot in there. As Anu was about to turn back, a tall and very graceful young woman in a saree sashayed towards her.

  ‘Ma’am, Good Evening.’

  Anu felt like an ungainly pig facing that woman. She returned the greeting and stopped to hear what news that nymph had for her.

  ‘Are you here for the trial yoga class? The class has just begun. You can join in.’ God, even her voice was so melodious.

  Anu decided to go along. It was her lucky day, after all! Free tennis classes and now a free yoga class in that gorgeous building. She was curious to see how it looked from inside. Probably had all kinds of vintage stuff with posts to pillars hauled from old houses in Kerala. She loved those.

  ‘Sure. I would love to go in.’

  The woman took her tennis racquet and led her inside the beautifully carved door. The moment Anu stepped inside, her smile vanished. It was hot as hell in there! People were sitting cross-legged, with their eyes closed and profusely sweating. Hot Vikram Yoga! Anu started to feel so claustrophobic, she was certain to faint soon. Before she even had a chance to escape from there, the instructor, an older and a lot sterner version of the woman who ushered her in, signalled Anu to take a place bang in the middle of the room. Great! Now there was no escape.

  17

  Wedged between a slim girl on her left and a large woman on her right, Anu closed her eyes as per the instruction. ‘Breathe deeply. Inhale … hold … exhale … hold.’

  Well, Anu could do all that easily if only she was not getting roasted to a crisp. Sweat trickled down her back and face. She tried wiping her face with the back of her arm but the next instruction, gentle but stern, stopped her in her tracks. ‘Do not move. Hands in Chin Mudra and breathe.’

  How long was this breathing thing! Anu suddenly felt nostalgic remembering Supriyaji’s classes. It was so nice and airy in her house. And all her routines were just about right.

  ‘Now, take a break and have a sip of water.’ The tone made Anu remember the movie Hunger Games, where if you didn’t follow the instructions you would have to die. This was no different.

  She had no water. It was in her tennis kit. Anu got up to get her water when the instructor raised her dainty brow. Anu signalled with her hand that she was going to get water. With a nod, the instructor asked Anu to sit back down. Handing her a glass of water, the woma
n moved back to the front of the class. She was the kind that scared Anu. Mid-fifties, slim, pursed-lips, crisp cotton saree, grey hair tied into a bun. The kind that did not look very kind.

  Anu could feel the others staring at her. To make matters worse, everyone had wiped their faces with their hand-towels and only Anu poured sweat like a leaky tap. She looked at the woman on her right. Mistake. She looked at Anu not just disapprovingly but with contempt. The way people did when Vicky cried in the movie halls.

  Anu looked to her left. An eighteen-or-so girl looked at her and smiled. The girl was quite a plain-looking one. But she was so well turned-out in expensive, bought-from-abroad printed leggings and a T-shirt, she looked smart. Rich never looked plain actually. Even her mat looked the designer kind. Anu realized that she was the only one sitting on the plain mat spread by the Yoga Studio. Everyone else had swanky mats with elegant steel or glass bottles next to them. Anu was secretly glad she hadn’t brought her green Tupperware bottle inside. That would look so out of place.

  ‘Now, I want everyone to stretch your legs out and try to hold the toes. Stay in the position until my next instruction. And breathe.’ Anu sighed at the words. At least she knew how to do that and she even knew it was Paschima Uttasana. Didn’t the woman know the names of the Asanasas or was she deliberately not using them? Anu decided to go with the former. Labelling that pretty woman as ignorant made Anu feel better.

  The stretch and hold were fine with Anu. The girl on Anu’s left had managed to hold the toes but the woman on Anu’s right was struggling to even reach till her knee, with her ample bosom resting on her thighs. The girl, catching Anu sizing up others, smiled. Anu smiled back feeling smug that the woman next to her was as flexible as a wooden stick.

  But soon the stretch turned into a never-ending saga. ‘Stay in the position until I instruct.’ The woman kept announcing. Anu, soon unable to bear with the screaming back, bent her knee, at first slightly, then generously. The girl on the left did the same and so did the others in the row.