Koi Good News?

by Zarreen Khan

  I rack my brains on how to stop her when I spot the portly Lakshmi sputtering around the kitchen.

  ‘Actually, I’m so sorry,’ I say hurriedly, ‘but my cook, she’s pregnant and I don’t allow smoking in the house for her well-being.’

  Tina raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow in surprise and I quickly give her this angelic smile.

  ‘That’s rather kind of you, Mona.’ She thankfully stuffs the cigarette back into the case. ‘Gosh! I was off smokes during my pregnancies,’ she tells me, holding her forehead dramatically. ‘It’s so bloody tough. The toughest part of the pregnancy.’ She clearly didn’t have the fainting spells. Or any of the puking the mothers are waiting with bated breath for.

  ‘Anyway, thought I’d come sit with you till Laila comes home from work. She’ll be here in another half an hour, so we have time for a little chit-chat? Down to the point, why have you been avoiding me, love?’

  ‘Sorry?’ I splutter.

  ‘I invited you and your husband to two of my parties and you didn’t show up. What seems to be the issue?’

  I adjust my T-shirt again and prop a cushion in front of me. ‘Oh, nothing at all. I’ve just had this terrible stomach bug so I was so off eating out and alcohol and you know how it is.’

  Right. That was weak!

  But she nods understandingly. ‘Oh yes. Tummy bugs are the worst. My husband Tej had jaundice way back in 2009 and he had to stay off alcohol for months. I told him very clearly, you can stop coming to the club if you like, darling, but asking me to give up alcohol for you is really a test of love.’ She laughs and curls her legs up on my brand new sofas without taking off her shoes. I feel faint at the sight of it but try to look nonchalant.

  ‘So, how long before your bug goes away?’ she asks.

  ‘It could take a while.’

  ‘Oh too bad. I believe Laila was planning to have another one of her parties next month to celebrate Shashi’s birthday, but guess you’ll be laid up in bed. Did I tell you about the party they had for her birthday?’

  She rattles on, and I keep nodding as Lakshmibai lays out this impressive tray of goodies I had no idea she knew how to cook! There are pakodas and halwa and these shiny chicken chunks in schezwan sauce and tall glasses of mint iced tea. And here I am being fed bhindi for every freaking meal!

  She is clearly out to impress Tina, who is sitting there with her stilettoes digging into my sofa. I tap my feet so that she can notice how my feet are on the floor, but she stays completely oblivious.

  ‘Laila’s also been a bit sick, you know,’ Tina says. ‘I think it’s all the travel. I think she ate something on the flight. I never eat on these domestic flights, even when I’m travelling business. I eat at the lounge. We’re platinum card holders.’

  It is a miracle I manage to stay awake through this conversation.

  Ramit

  Got home to find a very tired Mona. And an assortment of snacks. I asked her where it came from and she said Lakshmibai had cooked it all for Tina Tej Mushran.

  She also told me that Dr Mehak has suggested we get a dating scan. Mona’s scheduled it for morning, before Mummy arrives. Better that way, because there is no way Mummy won’t come along if she’s here.

  Week 9

  A dating scan is a more precise way of establishing your due date

  Mona

  For my sister Shania, a dating scan would probably mean scanning a room to see who is date-worthy material. To me it is clearly an ultrasound to date the pregnancy. I’m ready. I’ve Googled it all. I’ve had plenty of water so that my bladder is full and they can look into my insides.

  We are made to fill out some forms and Ramit looks over my shoulder.

  ‘What’s LMP?’ he asks.

  ‘Last Menstrual Period,’ I revel in my newly acquired knowledge.

  Ramit turns beetroot red.

  I roll my eyes at him. Are all men embarrassed about the word ‘menstrual’ or is it just Ramit? How silly!

  ‘That’s what they typically ask in a scan, by the way,’ I pass on some more of my knowledge. ‘They always want to know about the LMP.’

  Ramit nods, trying to be all mature about it, but I can see him twitching to take out his phone and bury himself in it.

  ‘But …’ I add, ‘When someone asks you, please just say how many weeks pregnant we are, not the LMP. That’s only for the doctor.’

  He looks at me strangely, like I’m doubting his intelligence.

  ‘Do you calculate from when the period starts or ends?’ he asks, so softly I have to read his lips to understand.

  Shit. Forgot to check that. Now I’m confused too.

  Ramit

  We’re fourth in line despite an appointment.

  Then we’re hustled into this dark room and Mona is covered with a white sheet and the lights are all turned off. But there’s no sign of the doctor. It seems like a good time to reply to an email but Mona snaps at me when I take out my phone.

  Mona

  I had to lie on the table for about ten minutes. The nurse slid the waistband of my trousers down but I pulled them right back up once she left to bring in the doctor.

  Then this large woman in a doctor’s coat and dark henna-dyed hair came in, looking rather bored. I squirmed. Ramit had sneaked out his phone. I caught his eye and glared at him.

  ‘LMP?’ the doctor yawned.

  ‘I think twelfth December,’ I said timidly.

  She raised her pencilled eyebrow at me. She reminded me of Shahnaz Husain.

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I’m not sure …’ I mumbled guiltily.

  She turned back to her screen and typed in something slowly.

  Then she put some gel on her device and moved it around my abdomen. I couldn’t make out a thing on the screen in front of me, let alone a baby! I raised my head higher to see if I was missing something, but it was all just fuzzy static in black and white.

  My heart skipped a beat. Was I even pregnant?

  Ramit

  All I could see were white lines and black blobs, like TV static.

  The doctor announced that she would have to do an internal, and shoved a towel into my hand.

  She told Mona to empty her bladder.

  Mona

  Till now, there was a certain privacy I’d enjoyed in life. And sure, I know there are some things that come with pregnancy. But being asked to take off my pants … and panties (!!!) … off! Well, not something I thought I’d have to do, not before the delivery, anyway.

  I stood there, trembling as the nurse held this sheet as a curtain between me and Shahnaz Husain. I tried to remember the last time I’d waxed my legs.

  Then she shoved the damned thing up … me.

  ‘Relax,’ Shahnaz Husain told me, as she gazed at the screen. I wanted to punch her. Seriously. Relax? Who was she, my mother-in-law?

  ‘This is better,’ she announced finally. I still didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘You can call her husband in,’ she told the nurse.

  Ramit walked in like a zombie and immediately turned red, seeing me in that state.

  There were all sorts of amoeba-like shapes on the computer screen now.

  ‘That’s the baby, can you see?’ Shahnaz Husain sounded slightly bored.

  I frowned at the screen. I wasn’t sure what the hell I was supposed to see. But then the doctor zoomed in, and there was something of an outline – it looked like a big black patch.

  I turned to Ramit.

  Ramit

  I didn’t know what was going on.

  Mona

  Poor, poor Ramit. He kept frowning at the screen and pushing up his glasses. He even took off his glasses, cleaned them and went closer to the screen.

  ‘But … it’s a blob,’ he finally said to the doctor.

  ‘Well, not really,’ said Shahnaz Husain, offended at the observation. ‘It’s more like a tadpole at this point of time.’

  I tried not to think about it. I’d rather think of a blob inside me than a
tadpole.

  ‘If you look closely, here, you can see the heart beat.’

  She zoomed in, and some blue and red dots appeared on the screen. I could see a faint beat, all right. I would’ve been totally excited by that, had Ramit not looked so lost squinting at the screen.

  I held his hand and pointed to the screen from my awkward lying down position.

  ‘There … can you see it? That change of colour?’

  He just frowned at the screen, his eyes moving from one corner to the other. He obviously couldn’t figure out a thing.

  ‘This is the first picture of your baby,’ Shahnaz Husain drawled her practiced script. ‘Isn’t it exciting?’ She made it sound like anything but.

  I quickly changed my expression since Ramit’s gave away nothing but confusion. I didn’t want to be the type of mother who couldn’t see the miracle of her child.

  ‘I’ll make you hear the heartbeat next time. That’s all for now.’

  Ramit and I looked at each other unsurely.

  I don’t think he’s coming for any more ultrasounds.

  Ramit

  My school principal mother has never shouted at me. Before.

  The minute I pick her up from the station, she furiously throws her bag in and barges into the passenger seat, tugging at her seat belt with all her might. I know I’m an hour late, but we were at the ultra sound and … Oh.

  Mona

  Mummy is soooooo angry at us for not telling her about the dating scan. Unlike my mother, who almost wept out of self-pity that we only told her about the scan after we’d seen the results, Mummy had no time for tears – only pointless screaming. Ramit came in looking like a giant tomato, simply placed her bags in the guest room and stood sheepishly in a corner. I was afraid about what was in store for me, but instead I got a giant hug and a kiss on the forehead.

  ‘Is he taking good care of you? Is he? Is he?’ she asked threateningly, holding me by my shoulders. I quickly nodded.

  ‘Ramit, I want you home by 7 p.m. sharp,’ she barked at him.

  I could see Ramit beginning to say something to her, but then he thought better of it, nodded obediently and dashed out of the house.

  ‘He didn’t bother telling me about your scan,’ she said gently, taking me by the arm and leading me to the dining area. ‘I would have changed my ticket to come yesterday.’

  I felt my own ears turning pink. We had both decided against letting the hyperventilating mothers know, but here I was, throwing poor Ramit under the bus.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, taking a seat. ‘I believe there’s another scan in two weeks? I will go only after that. You can tell your mother she can postpone her tickets.’

  Ramit

  Mummy was being difficult. She was looking at the ultrasound image, and when I asked if she could see the baby, she snapped a yes. She would never admit to being unable to spot her ‘tadpole’ grandchild.

  She told me the EDD said 7 September.

  I didn’t ask what EDD stands for. Will Google later.

  She complained loudly of there being no nutritious food in the house and admonished me for it. She then grumbled about the need for sunlight and yanked the curtains open to see a scantily clad Laila Sachdev doing yoga – the downward dog pose.

  Obviously, Mummy drew the curtains back immediately and stomped off.

  Mona

  Mummy has taken the house by storm.

  I’m being given something to eat every half an hour. When I refuse to eat, saying I’m too full, I’m met with a giant grin instead of the expected frown. She thinks I’m on the brink of puking, and that clearly makes her happy.

  She’s also majorly transformed our bedroom and brought new furniture for it.

  Ramit

  Mona has been planted on the bed, with several fluffed-up pillows and strict instructions that she is to go nowehere but the bathroom and back.

  Saw a stack of ‘What to Expect’ books about pregnancy on the table next to the bed, along with a few on handling a toddler. Mummy says it’ll give us perspective.

  We have two new pictures hanging from the wall. One of baby Krishna eating from a bucket of butter and one of some unknown baby. I’d have assumed Mummy would like a Deol baby’s photo up there, but as far as I know, none of the bheed has produced a blonde, blue-eyed baby.

  On Mona’s bedside table is a framed picture of me, wearing nothing but the sacred black thread on my feet, my family jewels on display as I chew on a toy.

  Mummy told me proudly that it’s one of my nicest pictures. I firmly tell her to tear it up immediately and stop scarring my pregnant wife.

  Once Mummy huffs out of the room, Mona falls against her stack of pillows and wails, ‘Your mother insists on coming with us to meet Dr Mehak tomorrow. Get us out of it please!’

  Mona

  I’m going to hit Ramit. Just as I’ve calmed down – Mummy agreed to stay home instead of coming along to the doctor’s – he’s had another thought, and wants me to ask Dr Mehak about it.

  Ramit

  Mona snapped at me. But it’s important to know!

  Mona

  Clearly, the most embarrassing part of the pregnancy wasn’t buying that damned pregnancy kit under those judgemental eyes or lying down on the ultrasound table with my pants down. It was today. It was asking the doctor if we can have sex!

  I told Ramit we didn’t need to ask, since I’d already Googled it and almost all the websites say that it’s okay, but he refuses to believe Google. For everything else in the world he believes it!

  So, just like I’d gone to the chemist with a list of medicines when actually all I needed was a pregnancy test, I thought I’d just sneak this question in with a few other milder ones.

  ‘How’re you feeling?’ Dr Mehak asked me.

  ‘Ummm … I still have those fainting spells I’d told you about.’

  ‘Yes. It happens with a few people. Are you working?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So that’s good. Just lie down for a while whenever you feel faint.’

  ‘That’s what I do.’

  ‘Any nausea?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I rattled off some other ailments like gas, bloating and other non-glamorous stuff.

  ‘Anything else?’ she asked me with a polite smile.

  I turned to look at Ramit, who wore this innocent expression, pretending we hadn’t discussed anything at all. He wasn’t even looking at me or at her – just staring into space, blinking, his hands nervously twirling his phone around. I debated dropping the question. Then he caught my eye and raised his eyebrow ever so slightly. That man!

  ‘So … can I … can we … ummm …’ Thank God they didn’t have me plugged into some sort of ECG machine.

  I really should have practiced this a little more in my head. What was an appropriate term to use? Sex? Make out? Make love? Make merry?

  ‘Is it okay … as in safe … you know …to have uh … intercourse?’

  Intercourse! Of all the terms to have popped into my head! Why couldn’t I have just said sex?

  ‘Sure it’s safe!’ Dr Mehak said cheerfully.

  I finally met her eye and she smiled at me. But I knew what she was thinking. This horny, knocked-up couple.

  I glanced at Ramit. His ears had turned red again. As if I’d asked the unexpected and embarrassed him. I wanted to whack him!

  Week 10

  You may have gone up a cup size or

  more by now

  Mona

  There are a lot of things Hindi movies don’t show about a pregnancy though. For example, boob pain. It’s horrid! And all these aches and pains in your pelvic area.

  Told Ramit how my abdomen was hurting. He, as always, went on Google, and then told me it hurt cause my body’s expanding to make space for the uterus.

  Then he said, ‘Wow. The human body is amazing!’

  I wanted to share my amazing pain by kicking him.

  Ramit

  Laks
hmibai has been demoted to chef’s assistant in the kitchen. Mummy insists on doing all the cooking, since Mona needs her tasty and nutritional food. That mean Mummy is adding pure desi ghee to everything – much to Mona’s dismay. Told her to stop complaining about her weight as she can’t control it.

  I’m not sure what a husband is supposed to say to his wife in this situation. Also … looks like all that weight is going to her boobs.

  Mona

  I cannot believe it! I’m popping out of my bra. I feel like Pamela Anderson. Except that mine are real. The ugliest bras fit like skanky bikini tops now! And while skinny people can be happy about getting some cleavage, I’m supremely embarrassed about going from size 34 to 36. And apparently this is not the end. Am I going to be one of those ladies who go to the lingerie shop and ask for size 44DD?

  Ramit

  I’ve told her I can barely notice the expansion but Mona insists Mummy’s been looking at her in embarrassment.

  Mona

  This afternoon, Mummy returned from the market with some thirty scarves for me. She made me stand in front of the mirror and draped them around me in a way that my massive boobs were hidden. I was so right. She had noticed them. So damn embarrassing!

  Thank God she’s stepping out tonight to meet and spend the night at Ruha maasi’s.

  Ramit

  Not just the boobs, anyway. It’s also her ...

  Mona

  Not only is Ramit married to Pamela Anderson, apparently he’s also married to Kim Kardashian. Have you seen the size of my butt?

  I’ve got the perfect figure – but for someone tall and dreamy. It’s hardly the look for someone who’s short and round all over.

  My body’s new shape is obviously haunting me, so much so that I’m having nightmares about it. I dreamt we were at some five-star hotel and my breasts got stuck in the revolving doors.

  Ramit

  Mummy has been encouraged to stay over at maasi’s for the weekend so that Mona and I get ‘alone’ time. I’m off to spend the weekend in office and Mona is sulking as usual.

  Mona

  Unbelievable!

  I was in my tracks, wearing one of the many colourful scarves Mummy got me and wandering around the garden this evening when Laila Sachdev pulled up in her car and walked right into my house with a giant, sympathetic hug.