Sorting Out Sid

by Lal, Yashodra

  Neha heard a faint knock on the front door. She went over to look through the eyehole, and was pleased to see Aditi. Neha quickly unlatched the door.

  ‘Hi, Adu!’ Neha said as the two of them hugged, adding, ‘How was Goa?’

  ‘It was great! I can’t believe we haven’t caught up after I’ve come back … it’s been days!’ Aditi said. ‘Listen, Krish and I are heading out for a quick drink and I thought I’d check if you wanted to come along?’ She saw the doubtful look on Neha’s face and added, ‘Kippy can come over and sleep at our place till we’re back…’

  ‘Oh that’s okay … Kippy’s asleep. Actually, Mom’s here too, she got in last night – she knocked out early too.’

  ‘Oh, I must say hi to aunty tomorrow then!’ said Aditi. ‘So great, you’ll come, right? I just thought you might like to get out for a change. I don’t like the thought of you alone all the time.’

  Neha gave her well-meaning friend a wide smile. ‘I’m not alone. I’ve got Kippy.’

  ‘Yes, but you know what I mean … you must miss not having regular adult company, right?’

  At this Neha thought of Sid for some reason. Did Sid count as adult company? Out loud, she just said, ‘I don’t want to be a kabab mein haddi … Krish and you should get your alone-time together. Don’t worry about me sweetie, I’m just fine.’

  ‘Sure? I’ve been feeling guilty for being so busy of late. I mean when you moved in here we thought we’d spend loads more time together.’

  ‘I’m fine!’ said Neha. ‘Mom’s here only for a few days. Let’s hang out next week.’

  ‘Okay … great.’ Aditi smiled and turned to leave. She then paused. ‘Hey, is that new?’

  Neha followed her gaze. The painting.

  ‘Ya … I’m still working on it.’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Aditi walked over to the door of the studio and examined the painting closely. ‘I love the colours you’ve used.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m glad you…’

  ‘And you’ve made the rainbow a single colour while the sky is multicoloured. That’s quite clever!’

  Neha never tried to be clever, especially with her art. But she wasn’t going to say that to her well-meaning friend who was heading for a fun night-out. So, she just grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her to the door saying, ‘You’re getting late, sweetie. Have fun and tell Krish I said hi.’

  ‘I will … I will. Stop pushing.’ Aditi called back over her shoulder, laughing. ‘Bye.’

  Neha shut the door, locked it and then walked a few steps over to stand and stare at her new painting. The time she spent on it had been the best part of the day for her. It didn’t matter that no one really seemed to get it despite the fact that it wasn’t meant to be abstract. She was lucky to have people like mom and Aditi. They cared, they were there for her, and that was more than enough.

  With a final, satisfied grin at her creation, Neha turned out the lights and went into her room.

  10

  Back Again

  ‘You’re such a bad boy, Sid’

  Meenakshi pushed herself up on one elbow next to Sid on the bed, the sheet falling off her bare, skinny shoulders. She smiled in a contented, catlike manner and twirled her fingers lightly over his chest.

  ‘Really?’ Sid mumbled in confusion. ‘My best friend Aditi says I’m a good boy.’

  ‘She’s wrong,’ Meenakshi purred, shaking her head slowly, her long hair swaying side to side and shimmering in the pale light of the room.

  Sid watched her in a distracted manner as she curved her back in a long, lazy, feline stretch. As usual, Meenakshi made him feel that strange combination of attraction and revulsion. Whatever it was, she was fascinating in her own way. But there was something Sid couldn’t quite put his finger on as he watched her. She turned towards him and flashed him a smile, baring her teeth and gums.

  The gums … oh God! Those gums so red that they looked almost bloody, and so large that they dwarfed her small white teeth. Sid tried to scream but was unable to get any sound out of his throat.

  The ringing of the alarm startled Sid awake and he sat up ramrod straight in bed, gasping for breath.

  Thank God … only a dream – a nightmare, in fact. Pretty much what this whole week had been. A nightmare.

  Sid sat frowning at his laptop. It was already 4 p.m. and he had been unable to concentrate for most of the day despite the four black coffees and six cigarettes so far.

  Just three days off from work and his inbox was flooded – ridiculous! Just because he had left in a rush and, therefore, been unable to switch on the ‘Out-of-Office Auto Reply’, people continued to email, even cc’ing him on conversations that had nothing to do with him. Now that he was a VP, everyone seemed to feel it was their sworn duty to cc him on everything. Sid hated it, but some perverse obsessiveness made him go through all his email. He couldn’t bear leaving anything unread, even if it was an email thread between 25 people saying, ‘What should we buy Charu as her maternity leave gift.’ Sid shook his head. He was partly pleased that his team didn’t see a reason to remove his name from such exchanges. Colossal waste of time though.

  Abandoning his email, Sid opened the monthly sales report and stared at all the numbers in their neat little rows and columns. Excel sheets were much better – they were neater. There were formulae involved. Why couldn’t life be like an excel sheet? Orderly and manageable. So what if it also meant life would be boring enough to make you cry? He found himself unable to concentrate and the numbers started swimming around in his head.

  Sid sat back and closed his eyes. This wasn’t fair. He had been so looking forward to getting back to work and having something normal to do. But something was still bothering him. Why wasn’t he getting that feeling of relief now? After all, he had finally got it over with – he had told his parents about the divorce.

  Of course, it had been a bad idea to tell them over the phone, he had known it all along. But he had been so listless for the past so many days. Finally, he had called his parents on Tuesday morning from the privacy of his cabin.

  ‘Hello Ma.’ Sid was immensely relieved that his father had not answered the phone. ‘So, you had a good flight?’

  ‘Beta, it’s been over a week since we landed, why are you asking now?’

  ‘Oh … Been busy, Ma,’ Sid muttered. He cleared his throat and continued, ‘So, I want to know how things are with you, how is Papa’s … heart condition?’

  ‘In control, beta, as you saw yourself … touch wood, but why are you worried about it? You saw us last…’

  ‘Yes, I know, I know … but there’s something that I thought I must tell you, Ma.’

  Sid swallowed a couple of times, and then with great difficulty he got the words out. He told his mother that Mandira and he were heading for a divorce, and that no amount of family intervention was going to help. She listened quietly and when she spoke, it was to ask him a few questions, her tone gentle. It was obvious that somewhere inside she had known all along. Sid was embarrassed to confess that the divorce proceedings had already been initiated and only another two months remained before they signed on the dotted line and ended it all in court.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Ma.’

  ‘Sid, beta…’ The worry and concern in her voice added to his misery. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Ma,’ Sid assured her, ‘I’ll be better off alone.’ After a moment of silence, he continued, ‘Listen, Ma, I’m in the office, will … perhaps you tell Papa, or should I call and speak to him later?’

  She hesitated only a moment before saying, ‘I think it’s best if I tell him, beta.’

  As usual, she was offering to protect him as though he was still that scared little boy rather than a capable, grown man. It was obvious Ma would try to do this till the end of her life, or just as long as he continued to let her. And yet, Sid found himself agreeing, ‘Okay, great, Ma, you tell him first and then I’ll speak to him aaraam se later.’
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br />   He barely heard her soft goodbye as he hung up and tried to focus on work.

  It was later that evening, just as Sid was getting ready to leave the office, that he got the call from his mother. ‘Sid,’ her voice was full of fear and panic, ‘I think your father is having a heart attack.’

  Sid grunted now at the memory, randomly deleting the sales figures of the North branch from the excel file.

  He recalled the sheer panic with which he abandoned everything that evening, rushing to book his ticket on the next available flight to Lucknow.

  Sid had always thought that his mother had a tendency to be overly dramatic at times, but clearly he had underestimated his father. By the time he had landed late at night and called them from the airport, his parents were already on their way back from the hospital. Ma spoke to him in a hushed tone, telling him to go home and wait for them. Sid sat outside the door of their small, independent house, feeling exhausted as well as relieved and more than a little confused as to what was going on.

  When they reached, his mother was pale with relief but his father’s ears, as much a giveaway as Sid’s in moments of stress, were flushed red – a combination of anger, embarrassment and sheer sheepishness.

  Apparently, Sid’s father had not said a word to his wife when she broke the news of Sid’s divorce. He only continued to read the newspaper and pretend that he hadn’t heard a word of what was she saying. After ignoring her until she gave up trying to talk to him, he had disappeared from the house.

  It had been an hour since he had been away and Ma had started to get worried. That’s when she got a call. It was the proprietor of the neighbourhood sweet shop, who had known them for several years and was therefore aware of the entire medical history of the family, asking her to come urgently, saying he had already called the ambulance. Sid’s father was complaining of pain in the chest.

  She had rushed over, calling Sid as she stumbled towards the sweetshop. Fortunately her mobile for once was charged and ready for use in this emergency. Which of course had turned out to be a false alarm!

  The doctor sent them back after an examination, assuring them it wasn’t a heart attack, but merely a bout of severe indigestion. He had chastised Sid’s father saying that the next time he had the inexplicable urge to eat four large, greasy gulab jamuns from some unhygienic joint, he would do well to remember his age and curb his instinct. But Sid knew this had been a one-time thing. It had been his father’s way of trying to handle the bad news about the divorce, drowning his sorrows silently in sugary syrup.

  At home, they didn’t speak about it at all. Sid just hovered in the background as his mother gave his father some Eno, settling him into bed and making sure he was comfortable. Sid had been afraid that Ma would want to discuss things, but she just gave him a wan and exhausted smile before turning again to watch her husband drift off to sleep. Sid escaped to his old room and lay staring at the ceiling through most of the night.

  For the next two days, Sid sat around at home with his parents. He could have gone back, of course, but somehow he felt duty bound to stay a while and make sure everything was in fact all right.

  It felt familiar now. For most of the day, Sid sat wedged between the two of them on the sofa and his father grumbled and flipped channels. But there was a strange sensation that Sid felt; he couldn’t quite figure it out initially. It was a certain sense of lightness. He wasn’t lying to them any more. They now knew his life was an absolute shit-hole. In a weird way, it felt good.

  After a couple of days had passed, Sid told them that he wanted to get back to Delhi. They didn’t protest. His mother looked a little worried but his father didn’t react at all when Sid said that he was thinking of leaving the next evening. He assured Ma that he would be fine, that he would call more regularly and that yes, he would come and visit again as soon as things were all settled. When the taxi came, Sid actually felt sorry to leave them. This was a definite first. Usually, he couldn’t wait to get away.

  He had arrived in Delhi late last night, late enough to avoid Mandira. When he had been leaving, he had sent her a text message in a hurry, informing her that he was on his way to Lucknow because his father wasn’t well. She hadn’t even bothered to check with him about it for the last couple of days. He let himself into the dark, silent house and headed straight to his bedroom. He had set his alarm for 7 a.m. and it had jolted him out of his Meenakshi dream this morning.

  He had dressed in a hurry, glad that Mandira hadn’t risen yet. But he had felt duty-bound to tell her something, even though she hadn’t asked. So he had left behind a note propped up against the mirror in the hall: ‘Back. False Alarm. Gulab Jamuns. Sid.’

  Cryptic, perhaps, but he figured she didn’t really deserve any more.

  That dream about Meenakshi was still bugging him. He had successfully managed to avoid her all day. Every time he saw Meenakshi from the corner of his eye, he headed in the opposite direction. He even skipped lunch for fear that she would sit down next to him as usual. This was silly. It was just a dream and it wasn’t like he never had inappropriate thoughts or dreams about other people. Was he feeling guilty because the dream this time involved a colleague?

  No, he realized. The guilt was because, for some strange reason, it made him feel disloyal.

  And not to Mandira.

  Sid leaned back in his chair and sighed. This wasn’t just silly, it was plain idiotic. But he couldn’t get it out of his mind – the way Neha had looked at him just before he ran out on her. Now, that had been a dumb move to make. Why had he panicked like that? Did he really believe Aditi that he might end up hurting her? Well, he definitely wasn’t ready for a relationship and that was certain.

  So why had she been constantly on his mind despite all the chaos of the last few days?

  Sid decided there was only one way to find out – he would see her again. He would apologize for his behaviour, explain that he really liked her a lot and suggest that perhaps they could just be friends. Also, he would hand over the gift to her, the one he had picked up from Lucknow.

  Basically – he had to see her again.

  ‘I know I really should call first.’

  Sid couldn’t get beyond this first line as he stared at Neha’s upturned face. He thought she was smiling, but it wasn’t too easy to tell given that she had some sort of icky, dark-green, mud-pack covering every centimetre of her face and neck. Neha’s hair was ensconced in a plasticky showercap. It had taken every ounce of self-control for Sid not to yelp when Neha opened the door. She reminded him of a tiny replica of the Statue of Liberty. Sid noticed she was now gazing at the large package he held under his arm.

  ‘Gift,’ he explained, somewhat unnecessarily.

  ‘Oh. Thanks.’ Neha grinned, this time her expression unmistakable, her white, even teeth contrasting with the mudpack. She was totally unselfconscious even while answering the door looking like this. She stretched out her hand.

  Sid blurted out, ‘It’s not for you.’ Neha’s hand froze in mid-air, making her look a little more like the Statue of Liberty. ‘It’s for Kippy,’ he clarified.

  ‘That’s very nice of you, Sid.’ She sounded pleased and more than a little surprised. ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘Oh, just for a minute, I guess. Wouldn’t want to disturb you while you’re…’ He waved vaguely at her face and then averted his eyes. He decided to just shut up and followed her inside. He handed her the package. ‘I got it from Lucknow. Thought it would be nice to get her a little souvenir.’

  Neha put the package on the table and sat on one of the chairs, inviting him to join her.

  ‘So you’ve been in Lucknow the last few days?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Sid said not sure where to look. He decided to focus on her eyes, especially the left one.

  ‘Pleasure trip or work?’

  ‘Well … pleasure … er … sort of,’ Sid said. ‘As in, Dad had a bit of a heart attack … And you? How’ve you been?’

  There was a moment
of silence.

  ‘Sid!’ she said. ‘What did you just say?’

  He realized it hadn’t sounded right. He didn’t really want to go into the details and relive the last week. After all he had come to visit Neha hoping to escape from it all. ‘He’s fine, he’s fine. I meant to say, we thought it was a heart attack, but it was only a false alarm.’

  Neha’s worry lines had caused bits of the mud-pack to crack, but she now relaxed, ‘What happened?’

  ‘Long story,’ he sighed and changed the subject. ‘So! Where’s Kippy anyway?’

  Neha looked as if she wanted to question him further. After a moment she just smiled. ‘Asleep … she went to bed early today.’ Neha eyed the package again. ‘So, er, what is it?’

  ‘This? Well … actually … it’s a Barbie – Fashion Barbie! It looked quite cool to me and I thought she’d like it.’

  ‘Hey!’ Neha protested, ‘I’ve never let her have a Barbie and wasn’t planning to either … all the wrong ideas about beauty.’ Cracks in her mud-pack again, this time from a frown. ‘And how is Fashion Barbie a souvenir from Lucknow anyway?’

  ‘Oh, well.’ He searched for an explanation. ‘Actually, it’s a souvenir from the Lucknow Airport Gift Shop.’

  Neha stared at him for a minute. Then his sorry expression appeared to make her melt and she smiled, ‘Well, thank you, Sid. That’s … thoughtful. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Maybe I’m a little too strict with her sometimes. Listen, you mind waiting for a minute while I wash this off?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Sid had been hoping she would say that. The green mask really did look somewhat ghastly. She grinned – that wasn’t ghastly at all – and hurried off to the bathroom. Sid sat down and waited, feeling nervous, wondering if tonight he would manage to get out without making an ass of himself.

  Neha came back and this time she looked the definite opposite of ghastly. Her skin was fresh and glowing, curly hair tied back loosely. Sid noted that her lips were naturally baby pink and so soft that they offset the sharpness of her other features. Now that the mask was off and not taking up all his attention, he also noticed that she was wearing a different nightie tonight – a satiny, sleeveless, purple number. How did this girl always make nightwear look like high fashion? Sid always slept in tatty, old, grey T-shirts and Boxer shorts, but she … she looked delectable. Sid shook himself slightly … this was not what he was supposed to be thinking.