THE ONE YOU CANNOT HAVE

by Preeti Shenoy

  ‘Ma, I haven’t met anyone, okay? If I do, I will definitely tell you,’ I say.

  ‘I didn’t even ask,’ says my mother and she chuckles.

  Mothers are so darn clever. They know exactly which buttons to push to get information out of you. Especially information that you don’t want to share.

  I laugh with her and tell her that.

  ‘Naturally,’ she says. ‘After all, I am your mother.’

  My phone buzzes just as my mother hangs up and it is a text from Jeena. Jeena takes her job as the chief editor of Tiara very seriously. She is ambitious, driven and somewhat like the boss from The Devil Wears Prada. I can’t but help sit erect each time she passes my cubicle. She likes me though. Or rather, she likes my writing and the pieces I write. I don’t think she cares for anything else.

  Change of plans. We’re running the piece in this issue, not the next. Do you think you can submit it by tomorrow morning?

  I have not even started working on the piece. Since I had a good fourteen days to turn in the piece, I had not even thought about it. And now she wants it tomorrow!

  I don’t want to ask Jeena to extend the deadline and I definitely do not want to confess to her that I haven’t even thought about the piece.

  I message her back with a confidence that I am far from feeling: Yes, No problem. I have already outlined it and will send it soon.

  Latika and Sriram will have to help me out. And I will ask Aman too to give his inputs.

  From: Anjali Prabhu

  To: Latika Nair ; Sriram Surve ;

  Aman Mathur

  Sub: Help—Urgent

  Hey guys—Help!

  Deadline and Bitch-boss on my ass.

  What do you think a woman should do to keep a guy hooked?

  Sriram, Aman: What turns you on in a woman and what will keep you hooked?

  Latika: What do you think women should do to keep men interested?

  Please reply ASAP. Need to submit this quick.

  Who else can I turn to but my closest friends in times of need? (Yeah dramatic dialogue, I know—can’t help it. Writers are like that.)

  Reply immediately.

  Anjali

  From: Sriram Surve

  To: Anjali Prabhu

  Sub: Re: Help—Urgent

  In answer to your query: What do you think a woman should do to keep a guy hooked?

  1.Show cleavage

  2.Show some more cleavage

  3.Wear short skirts

  4.Flirt

  5.Be receptive to flirting

  That’s it—so simple. Men are so easy to please.

  Good luck!

  SS

  From: Anjali Prabhu

  To: Sriram Surve

  Sub: Re: Re: Help—Urgent

  Big help you are.

  Idiot.

  A

  From: Aman Mathur

  To: Anjali Prabhu

  Sub: Re: Help—Urgent

  I can’t speak on behalf of the entire male population, but I think by and large what I would want in a woman is companionship. She has to be a friend first. I think sex can keep the relationship going only up to a certain extent. It is important, yes, but it is not the only thing that guys look for.

  I would also want her to have a kind heart and be a nice person. I would like her to be open and honest and not hide her feelings. I would also like her to have a great sense of humour.

  Intelligence is a big attribute for me too. I don’t like women who are dumb.

  I like women who are confident and who are at peace with themselves. I don’t like clingy, whiny, demanding women. They come across as too needy.

  A woman doesn’t have to wear revealing clothes to attract a guy—and trust me, while it might get her initial attention, the relationship will continue only if the other above-mentioned aspects are being met.

  I don’t know how much this has helped.

  Good luck with your article!

  Aman

  From: Latika Nair

  To: Anjali Prabhu

  Sub: Re:Help—urgent

  I think there has to be basic chemistry for the relationship to work. There has to be a certain wave-length match for it to develop and last.

  I’ve been married three years now and, at the end of the day, we wait to talk to each other, swap stories and laugh. It is that easy sense of camaraderie we have with each other that works in our favour.

  And yes—no egos. When I am wrong, I apologise.

  He does too.

  We love each other unconditionally.

  I think that is important.

  Good luck with the article.

  Tons of love

  XX

  Latika

  From: Anjali Prabhu

  To: Jeena Kapoor

  Sub: How to keep a guy hooked

  Article attached.

  Anjali

  How To Keep A Guy Hooked

  By Anjali Prabhu

  Are you looking to find out how to keep him interested in you? Are you wondering why he hasn’t asked you out for the next date yet? Do you want to keep the relationship going but don’t know how? Use these tips and keep a guy hooked to you.

  1.Do not cling: So you have texted him and he hasn’t got back to you. Yes, we know you are dying to get that second text from him. But, do not, at any cost, message again and ask him if he got your earlier text. He has. And, no, he hasn’t lost your number. And he isn’t that busy that he forgot. If a guy wants to get back to you, he will. Do not sound desperate or whiny. Clingy and needy women are a big turn-off for men.

  2.Develop a friendship: Allow a friendship to develop naturally first. Try to find mutual interests and take a genuine interest in what he likes. If it’s basketball, look up the internet for NBA league fixtures. Watch a couple of games. Follow what is going on and be in a position to discuss the game with him. But do not fake this. If you have no interest in sports, find a common ground that you can enjoy together.

  3.Sense of humour: ‘Those who laugh together, stay together,’ says Latika Nair, an HR professional who has been married for three years. ‘At the end of the day, we wait to talk to each other, swap stories and laugh. It is that easy sense of camaraderie we have with each other that works in our favour.’

  4.Treat him with respect: Respect your guy for who he is. Do not play the ‘I’m a princess’. Do not be a drama queen or a diva. A woman who is full of drama is likely to find it harder to keep a guy hooked. Men like women who are positive and understanding. Listen to him when he talks and figure out what is important to him.

  5.Be independent and have your own life: If the guy calls at four pm and asks you for a date that evening but you already have prior plans, do not change your plans and go with him. (Yes, we know you are dying to go on that second date, but hold on!) Make him work a little harder to get you. Also, show him you have a life.

  Use these simple tips and keep a guy hooked to you forever. And you thought just showing cleavage and wearing short skirts was all that men wanted, eh?

  Good luck, girls—and may you be happily hooked to your man, forever.

  From: Anjali Prabhu

  To: Aman Mathur

  Sub: Re: Re: Help—Urgent

  Hey!

  Thanks.

  That was brilliant and helped. Thank you for the prompt response. Hope you have a great flight to India!

  Anja
li

  Chapter 5

  Shruti

  I cannot believe how time has flown. The subtle pressure has started now from all quarters. This is inevitable if you live in India and have been married for a year or more. Everybody makes it their business. The business of procreating and raising babies. It is as if a marriage is complete only if a child is produced.

  Mom calls as usual when I am on my way to work.

  I speak to her every single day. If she doesn’t call, I do. The routine never varies. It is as though her breast cancer was brought upon us to make us realise how very fragile life can be.

  ‘So, Shruti, changed your mind yet?’ she asks.

  ‘About what, Ma?’ I feign ignorance.

  ‘You know, you should never delay such things, Shruti. The older you are, the harder it will become to conceive. Certain things have to be done at a certain age. You are gambling with your fertility and your baby’s health.’ She is armed today with arsenal that can down me.

  But I am prepared too. I have my own load of ammunition ready.

  ‘Well, Ma, do you know of Madonna, the singer? She had her baby at thirty-eight. And Halle Berry—she became a mother at forty-one,’ I retort.

  ‘Shruti, all these are foreign celebrities. They are different. Look at the Indian film stars. Most of them quit movies when they get married. You should have a child, it is what makes a family complete.’

  There is no point arguing with my mother. We will only go around in circles. I certainly do not want to quit my career and raise children, just because some Indian movie stars have done so.

  ‘Look Ma—I cannot, and do not, want to emulate a Bollywood star. I just want to go to work and come home and lead my life. Why do you keep talking to me about this?’ I ask, now a little irritated.

  She is quiet for a few seconds and I immediately feel contrite.

  ‘Okay, you know best. I won’t bring this up again,’ she says in a quiet voice and I know she is hurt.

  ‘Oh, Ma—I didn’t mean it that way. Look, I am sorry. Let’s not talk about this, okay? When we decide to have a baby, you will be the first to know, okay?

  I am glad that there is no one I know in the bus to overhear my conversation as I am one of the first to get on. Asha, my colleague from the finance department, travels in the same bus but she gets on only after about five stops. Till then I usually sit alone. Today, I am thankful that we all have our ‘fixed places’ in the bus, much like school, and nobody changes them. So till Asha gets in, I have a lot of time (and privacy) to contemplate. And that is just what I do after I hang up.

  I think about how my mother’s breast cancer has changed her life and thrown mine on a path I never planned or envisaged. I cannot blame her though, for subtly pressuring me to have a child. After all, I have been quite a handful for them and I still recall the relief on their faces when I finally agreed to marry Rishabh.

  I still have mixed feelings about all of it and have dealt with it by not dwelling too much on it. My mother’s cancer was a rude jolt that catapulted all of us into unfamiliar territory. After all, cancer isn’t easy to fight. My mother is a very brave woman. She had gone for a routine check-up and the doctors found a lump and advised a lumpectomy. But when they operated on her, they discovered a tumour which was twice the size that the scans had detected. So instead of taking out just one affected lymph node, they had to take out eight infected ones. Then there were rounds of chemo, radiation and further investigations. A shudder passes through my body as I recall that period of my life.

  I do not know if my relationship with Aman fell apart because of my mother’s cancer or not. All I know is that I was in no frame of mind to fight my parents then.

  My mother had to finally go in for a mastectomy. The doctors had said it was absolutely essential to eliminate all risks and to ensure its total eradication. I remember the relief washing over me when she had finally come home. She had hugged me and we had both wept and wept. My mother never saw mastectomy as an inconvenience. If there was any sadness, she hid it well. I think it was I who had cried. My tears were because of my helplessness in the whole matter. My tears were also for an end of a relationship that had meant the world to me. My tears were for my mother’s maimed body—the body that had given birth to me, nurtured me, taken care of me. My tears were also tears of relief—that the monster that we had all been fighting was finally vanquished and my mother was cancer-free. She has beaten it and is a survivor now.

  Throughout those years, I have been her biggest support after Papa. Being a single child, the onus on me was that much more. Perhaps if I had siblings, they might have been there for Ma. Sometimes I wonder if it had not been for my mother’s cancer, I might have been married to Aman, not Rishabh. Even though it is too late now to contemplate what could have been, my thoughts find their way to Aman, a cruel reminder of how it would have been, had things panned out differently. Thoughts of him still cause a storm inside me, though outwardly I appear calm. Four years with him and I could not imagine a future without him. How can I forget the time I had with him? There is nobody who can make me laugh like he did. There is nobody who has cherished me as much as he did. We were so right for each other.

  Aman is history—you had a chance with him but you were too cowardly to take it. You are married now and Rishabh is a great guy. Get over him.

  Rishabh dotes on me. He is nice-looking, earns well (he also has the coveted IIM tag which automatically elevates him in the ‘good catch’ category when it comes to matchmaking), is helpful around the house and is a great guy.

  But he is not Aman.

  I wince at my own thoughts. I feel like a traitor to be even thinking of Aman nearly two years into my marriage. Everybody says that things change after marriage. Everybody says that you forget the life you had before you got married. But they lie. How can you forget who you were? In many ways, still are. Marriage does not change your memories. Marriage does not take away your past. At best, it paints a rosy picture of a ‘new life’. But can a new life be built on the foundations of a past soaked in unforgettable memories?

  I think about my conversation with my mother and her questions about having a child. Isn’t it enough that I got married to someone they chose? Now they want me to produce a baby too? Why does Indian society put this huge pressure on couples to produce children soon after marriage? I wonder what joy elders get in seeing their adult married child pregnant. How can they interfere so shamelessly?

  Even the lady living in the flat opposite mine (who I barely even speak to but for the cursory greeting when we run into each other in the lobby while waiting for the elevator) had asked me the other day, ‘Beti—any good news?’ The ‘good news’ being a euphemism for being pregnant.

  ‘Yes, Aunty, I am getting a promotion at work,’ I had replied, pretending to not understand what she had hinted at.

  ‘Uffo—I didn’t mean that,’ she had said.

  ‘I know,’ I had answered with a smile and rushed off.

  My mother-in-law is not so easily fobbed off, though. She has started dropping not-so-subtle hints on the phone. She talks about longing to hold a grandchild, she talks about how much a baby will cement a marriage, she talks about how a family is complete only when it has two children. It is annoying to listen to her. I nod politely whenever she calls and respond in monosyllables. I just cannot be rude, even though I want to bang down the phone and tell her to keep her nose out of my business and that Rishabh and I will decide when it is time to have a child.

  The problem is Rishabh too is very keen. But I just don’t feel ready. Heck—I am only twenty-six. I want to wait a few more years. I do not want to have a child now. I want to have a child when I am ready—not because my parents and my in-laws and my husband want it. I may not be certain about too many things in my life, but this is something I am certain about.

  Asha gets into the bus and is, as usual, in
a chirpy mood. I wonder how she manages it all. She seems so nonchalant about her weight. She is grossly overweight and she does not even diet.

  ‘I am the mother of a seven-year-old now. How does it matter? It is not that I have to model on the cover of Playboy,’ is her favourite line when it comes to her weight.

  Asha’s mother-in-law lives with her. When I tell Asha about my in-laws and my mother pressuring me to have a child, she laughs.

  ‘They tell you on the phone only, right? It is not as though your mother-in-law is living with you, like mine. Then why do you get so affected? Just let it go,’ she says.

  ‘You know how it is for me. I am so close to my mother. I just can’t let it go. Rishabh also wants to have a baby,’ I say.

  ‘So what do you want to do? Have a baby to please them? Look, I know how it is. Everything goes for a toss once a child arrives. It is horrible if you aren’t ready for it. Ask me—I speak from experience. You know how it was for me—I conceived by accident and by the time I realised it, it was too late. So I had no choice. It is our life, we have to make our choices,’ she states in a very matter-of-fact way.

  She is right, of course.

  I have made my choices. Walking away from Aman, the one true love of my life, and marrying Rishabh, my parents’ choice. It was hard but I have done it. My mother is free of cancer. I have a career which has just taken off and I am doing reasonably well in my job.

  I have everything going for me.

  Yet why am I unhappy? What is this strange sense of discontentment I feel? Why can’t I just be happy-go-lucky like Asha, who has so many more problems than me?

  For the rest of the journey to the workplace I force myself to listen to Asha’s chatter about her mother-in-law and also about a party that she is organising which she wants Rishabh and me to attend. Asha has decided to wear an Indian dress with a very low plunging neckline. She says her mother-in-law will hate it but she has made up her mind that it is exactly what she will wear.