by Zarreen Khan
That should settle it. I hope it’s not another nameplate.
Mona
Okay, then. I’ve got the house in order and have decided that this weekend is the one!
It’s our brand new house and we will inaugurate it with a brand new baby. I am, of course, being overly ambitious. I’ve had the same hopes before every ovulation cycle the past twelve months. And to make matters worse, I keep forgetting my dates.
When we first started trying a year ago, we thought – do the deed, sow the seed. With no contraceptive, we thought we’d make a baby immediately. Nothing happened.
In the second month, I went off caffeine and papaya and refused to lift heavy things because, you know, best to be careful. But then again, nothing. Which was okay. Maybe we were just new to not using protection.
Month three: I Googled the most ‘dangerous’ dates in one’s cycle. And for the first time, I kept a record of my dates. That’s how prepared I was!
Month four: I went lingerie shopping. Out of jockeys. Into La Senza. After a highly uncomfortable month of synthetic, itchy underwear, nothing. Threw away the La Senza.
Month five: I forced myself to feel queasy every morning. Really believed in it. Nothing.
Anyway, thirteen months later, I’ve realized you can’t snap your fingers and say, ‘I want a baby’ and just have it. One has to be patient.
But still, this weekend is going to be it! After all, we’re in our own house, like Mummy says.
Ramit
Mona’s saying there’s lasagne and cheesecake for dinner. Her mother is a great cook and I’m so glad Mona has inherited her talent. My mother, on the other hand, has a house full of cooks, thank God.
At 7.00 Mona sent me a picture of herself. Haven’t wrapped up work quicker.
Mona
The evening was officially ruined.
I made all of Ramit’s favourite food, arranged a candlelight dinner, put up our brand new, posh-looking nameplate at the gate with our letterbox (MONA AND RAMIT DEOL, VILLA NO. 22 – did not stoop to the neighbour’s wannabe level and use ‘cottage’), dressed up in a short red dress, ironed my long hair – it’s reaching my knees now – and put on some make-up. Then I pouted and took a selfie for Ramit. Ugh! Tried again – put a hand on one hip and clicked another one. Ended up looking like one of those women from the Moov ads. Deleted. Then took a full-length selfie in the mirror. Cursed myself for not choosing one of those slimming mirrors when we were doing up the house. Also wished the mirror would make me look taller. Then accidentally dropped the phone and when I reached to pick it up, it accidentally shot a picture of my cleavage and randomly sent it to Ramit. Well, at least it wasn’t to the family group. Immediately got a text from Ramit saying he’d left office.
And then Mummy called from Amritsar. One of her staff teacher’s daughter, who is thirty-seven, went in for IVF and is now pregnant.
Mummy spoke in hushed whispers and told me to ‘relax’, and next month she would find out more about IVF.
I was so stressed by the end of that conversation that when Ramit came to bed, I clamped up and feigned sleep. I did not want Mummy picturing me ‘relaxing’!
Week LMP minus 1
Body fat may affect fertility
Ramit
Spotted a rather hot neighbour today. In really tiny shorts. Mona didn’t see her. Hope she didn’t see me looking at her either.
I wonder if I should tell Mona that she needs to lose some weight. She has been gaining some around her midriff. She is still, of course, one of the skinniest people in Punjab. But I worry about her. She just kind of lounges around in her trackpants all day.
She may want to join the gym.
Found her beaming at me when I joined her at the breakfast table.
‘I’m 64.2 kilos today. 800gms down from Chiku’s wedding. Thanks to your Babbu’s mutton tikkas and the awful acidity. I should’ve just checked my weight a little earlier. Maybe I’ve actually lost a lot more.’
And then she reached for the toast and applied generous amounts of Nutella to it.
Mona
I quite like our living room.
I’ve placed this massive lamp from the Amritsar house near the window and kept Ramit’s easy chair right next to it. It makes for a great reading spot. Especially since we’ve got a little bookshelf on the wall with all these leather-bound books stacked up in it. It’s some sort of National Geographic series, which Ramit was into during his schooldays. I don’t think he’s ever gone through all of them. But anyway, it looks pretty classy in our living room.
I’m waiting for Ramit to return from office. He’s just texted me to say he’s leaving office and it’s only 7.00 p.m.! Maybe it’s baby-making night? I’ll just ignore all calls from Mummy. And Mom.
Anyway, back to the living room. I’m sitting in his easy chair leafing through the Femina I bought, calculating my body mass index as the magazine suggests, sipping cardamom tea and eating some herby crackers – when the lights go on in our neighbours’ home.
I can see right into their living room. Into their ‘cottage’, excuse me! It’s a very pretty house, I have to admit. Golden and coral walls, white sofas. (White sofas are very daring. We had white sofas once in our Dehradun house till Jahangir, our dog, left paw marks all over it. Mom was livid!) They have some very nice lights. Very fancy lampshades. We’d seen these when we’d gone light shopping and these were definitely in the top range. They also have a fireplace (How firang!) and little mantle curios. Can’t make out much of what the curios are like from this distance, but going by the rest of the house, must be expensive. There’s a bright painting hanging above their sofa. Very artistic. I wish I could see what sort of carpet they have. We need a rug for our living room too. And now that I’ve seen that painting, maybe I should get one myself.
Then I see this tall, well-built man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in a grey shirt and black trousers, saunter into the room with a glass of, maybe, scotch. Obviously can’t actually see that, but he looks like someone who’d drink scotch. He picks up a cigar and turns towards the door. Then this tall lady walks in. Can’t see her face – she has her back towards me. She is very slim, has straight hair, and is wearing a well-fitted navy-blue dress. I’m guessing that is Laila of nameplate fame.
And then without any warning, they kiss. A long, passionate kiss. I turn away in embarrassment but then curiosity gets the better of me … they’re kissing some more and … he is unbuttoning her dress!
I run up to my room, two stairs at a time, but not before turning off my own lamp in embarrassment.
Ramit
Yes, I know we need curtains and all that, but to go stomping away on a shopping spree the one day I get home on time is uncalled for.
Thankfully, Mona was at her efficient best and we were back with rather dark, thick curtains despite my argument against them. I was made to stand on the ladder till midnight to have them up in our living room. I joked about them being wasted in the living room because that’s not where we needed our privacy – she didn’t find that funny.
A lot of stomping this evening.
And no sex.
Mona
Unbuttoning her dress in the middle of the day! Evening! Whatever! Surely their staff could’ve walked in on them! I don’t even let Lakshmi into our bedroom!
I eventually told Ramit about our X-rated neighbours but he just snickered.
And despite my story about how uncouth they are, Ramit decided to strike up a conversation with them when we were sitting out in the garden today! I didn’t even want to look at them (how embarrassing to see someone you’ve seen naked … almost …) but Ramit called out to me and I had no choice.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw the tall man’s face. I swear that for a second, I thought he was Milind Soman.
‘Mona, this is Shashi Sachdev,’ Ramit introduced me. I think he was a little louder than usual to ensure that I shut my gaping mouth. I tried my best to smile politely and not ogle at the man.
But really, he’s like some Greek god, with those chiselled features and dark skin and shapely lips…
‘Hi Mona, nice to meet you,’ he said, in a deep baritone that made me want to melt. He then turned to the woman beside to him. ‘This is Laila.’
I turned to the well-manicured hand with bright red nailpolish reaching across the fence for my hand. I reluctantly had to take my hand out of my pockets and cursed myself for not putting cream this morning as I extended my scaly skin. She looked like a diva, a sexy supermodel.
She was as tall as him, or was wearing high heels to match his height – I couldn’t see – and her ivory, smooth skin had probably never seen the onset of teenage acne. She had straight white teeth and voluptuous red lips, immaculately applied mascara around her sparkly hazel eyes, and straight brown-ish hair right out of shampoo ads.
I think I gaped at her in amazement, too. I am a bloody embarrassment!
She could be a foreigner. And they say they’ve moved from Singapore, so …
‘Hi Mona,’ she said in this throaty, sexy voice – I think it’s the cigarettes. She looks the sort. ‘Welcome to the neighbourhood.’
I stood there silently as Ramit made small talk, trying not to feel like a colourless mouse.
And they both looked so fit. Shashi was in this half-sleeved shirt, and his biceps were so defined! My poor Ramit looked malnourished in comparison. I’ve decided to wake up early tomorrow onwards and give him freshly squeezed orange juice. The Amristari relatives are right: Ramit really is kamzor. He’s got a lanky frame, bespectacled eyes, moppy hair – he is the stereotypical software engineer.
And then there was this goddess of a Barbie doll standing in front of me. Not a size zero, but with fat where it counts. I was in jeans and a loose T-shirt while her tiny waist was dressed in white trousers (Who is she? Jeetendra?) and a well-fitted baby-pink shirt. She’d rolled up her sleeves to flaunt a rather expensive looking watch (who wears watches nowadays! Even if it is a Rolex) and she had solitaires on her earlobes. They looked very hip. She was also wearing the most massive solitaire ring. I felt like kicking myself for leaving my wedding ring upstairs. It may not be a massive solitaire but it has sixteen diamonds. Mummy had told me this proudly when she had shoved it up my fat finger, as is tradition, at the shagan ceremony. That’s right. Ramit didn’t even give me a ring. It was Mummy.
I don’t even want to think of the impression I’ve made on them. Ramit at least was wearing a branded Nike sweatshirt.
Ramit kept ooh-aahing about some Jonas League firm Milind-Shashi works for. I nodded along knowledgably and tried to match Ramit’s impressed expression, but I don’t know what the hell Jonas League is. Though I did gather he’s a lawyer.
‘I was with their Singapore office earlier,’ Shashi said in a deep voice. ‘We just moved here six months ago.’ He had a slight twang to his accent. I didn’t think people from Singapore would have an accent.
‘We moved here so that Laila’s office could be close by. She heads marketing for Sparq.’
I tried not to gasp. Sparq is the top cosmetics brand in the country! In the world! They make the coolest ads and were rated one of the best companies to work for in the country. If she is head of marketing, she must be at least forty years old. I am very quick at calculating people’s age. She certainly doesn’t look her age. But all that mascara and lipstick made sense now. They’re all Sparq products. I’m sure she was wearing foundation too. No one’s skin can be that perfect.
But just look at them showing off! Telling us she ‘heads’ marketing rather than works in marketing and that they’ve just come in from Singapore. I don’t like them one bit, if you ask me. Not one bit!
‘What about you, Mona? Are you working somewhere?’
Ramit
The dreaded question.
‘Uh … no … I’m on a break,’ I heard Mona stutter.
She hates being asked about her work. I keep telling her it’s only a matter of time before she starts her business and really, it’s all her choice, but …
‘Well, it’s good to finally have some neighbours,’ Laila said. ‘We should have you guys over sometime for a drink.’
I saw Mona nodding rather vigorously. ‘Yes, that sounds wonderful. In fact, we’re just setting up the bar at our place too so we must have you guys over once we’re done,’ she says.
Impressive. Mona had never mentioned setting up a bar before.
Mona
I swear Laila shot me a quick glance to see if I’m too behenji to drink. I’m avoiding Ramit’s eye after the bar comment. Now we’re getting one, whether I like it or not! We’ll just move that damned Amritsar lamp out of the way.
‘Great! Sometime during the week then,’ Laila said flashing another one of her dazzling smiles. Surely this perfect set of teeth can’t be real! I hear even top Indian actresses need to get their teeth fixed.
We exchanged some more small talk before parting ways and they walked off to their Mercedes, hand in hand. I quickly latched on to Ramit’s arm as we walked back to our plastic Neelkamal garden chairs.
‘Jonas League!’ Ramit sounded thoroughly impressed. ‘That’s the biggest law firm ever! And she works at Sparq. She can get you some free products.’
I didn’t speak to Ramit for an hour after that. I can’t believe he thinks I need beauty products!
I don’t think he noticed me sulking, though. He was too engrossed in his phone.
No wonder we’re not making any babies.
Week LMP
Your pregnancy journey begins
Mona
The chums are back. Another month of not being pregnant.
I told Ramit and he gave me a hug. I don’t even know why I’m depressed. It’s probably because I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I’ve ignored all calls from Mom and Mummy today.
In the evening, I realized they can’t possibly know my period dates and I’m being overly paranoid. Hell, I have a tough time remembering my own dates. So I decided to call them back.
‘Kuch hua?’ my mom asked me the minute she answered the phone.
‘What do you mean!’
I was aghast! How was she keeping track of my dates better than me! I have the most interfering family ever! At least my mum-in-law would never keep track of my dates. My own mum’s really becoming too much!
Like how she keeps saying that so-and-so is not having a baby cause she’s so busy with her career. So much stress. What’s the obsession with money? Is her husband not earning enough? She should concentrate on the family.
And the other so-and-so who’s not having a baby – it’s her lack of career to blame. She toh is a housewife. Left her job to become pregnant lekin ho nahin raha. It’s like being constipated despite having Isabgol.
So annoying! I had a good mind to slam down the phone.
‘Shania ke ticket ka … kuch hua?’ She continued, ‘Shania’s stuck in that dreadful Puducherry, na. She’s been telling us to help her with the tickets na. That’s why I’d messaged you in the morning to ask Ramit’s office or someone else to help with it. Kuch hua ki nahin?’
I think I’m a bunch of nerves about this whole pregnancy thing. My poor mother …
We made small talk, discussed Mom’s fear of Shania returning with another tattoo, didn’t discuss babies and all-in-all, it was a good conversation. I put the phone down and called back Mummy.
‘It’s been one month since Chiku’s wedding,’ she said immediately.
My heart was thumping. She remembers I was chumming at Chiku’s wedding. It’s been a month. She’s the one who’s been calculating. I braced myself for the interrogation.
‘I miss you both,’ she said longingly. ‘It’s been so long since I last saw you!’
Oh! I really am getting too paranoid.
‘We were just there, Mummy,’ I told her gently.
‘But that was all so hectic. I hardly got to spend any time with you. Especially with Daisy going berserk.’
‘Did Nishi bua
really do it on purpose then?’
Mummy lowered her voice. ‘It was Nayantara only who leaked the design.’
I gasped. That’s Daisy chachi’s very own daughter-in-law. This was big gossip indeed!
‘Yes. Imagine that! I think she was peeved with Daisy because Daisy threw that chaat party last summer on the same day Nayantara’s mother had her high-tea party.’ High tea? Is this seriously Amritsar we’re talking about? ‘So anyway, I asked Nishi finally and she told me Nayantara had sent her details of the design.’
‘Daisy chachi will get a full-on shock if she finds out.’
‘Hmm. Nayantara and the kids are coming to Delhi next to next week. Her brother’s there, na. She said this time she’ll definitely call you.’
Oh no.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no …
‘In fact, Mona …’
No, no, no, no, no …
‘Why don’t you call all the cousins over for dinner?’
NO!
‘There are so many of them there. It will be a nice reunion.’
We just had a reunion at Chiku’s wedding! No!
‘Now that we have a nice house …’ she went on.
We don’t have a house! Ramit and I have a house!
‘You should have lots of parties before you get busy with starting a family.’
Starting a family! Because, of course, Ramit and I aren’t a family. A ‘family’ is incomplete unless you’ve been through sleepless nights together with a bawling kid. I am fuming again.
‘Ramit is busy with work, Mummy. I’ll ask him and figure out a date,’ I said dismissively, hoping she’d get the hint.
‘Ramit is always busy with work,’ Mummy brushed me aside. ‘He needs to get busy with other things.’
And then it happened.
‘It’s been a month since you had your period here. Have you had it again this month?’
Ramit
When I got into bed, Mona told me, ‘I’m really quite tired of all this interference, Ramit!’
I know how she feels. But it’s also an opportunity to, you know … I reached out for her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. ‘Then let’s make a baby.’ I knew I was grinning, despite trying to look nonchalant.