JUST MARRIED, PLEASE EXCUSE

by Yashodhara Lal

  Mummyji was even more surprised at this. She repeated, ‘Tamatar?’

  Kajal seemed to think that backtracking was not an option. Instead of deviating to naming other more conventional dishes, she proceeded to stoutly maintain that the tomato was amongst our favourite food – very healthy, and you could make a variety of different sabzis from it.

  Mummyji muttered to herself, ‘Tamatar ki sabzi … pehli baar suna hain.’

  Kajal assured her that in fact, it was very nice and promised to make it for her at some point during her stay. She then pretended to hear me calling her and said, ‘Haan, aa rahi hoon,’ and escaped the room.

  Something she should have done a lot earlier.

  I listened in disbelief as Kajal told me, with no small measure of pride, that she had thrown Mummyji off the dangerous track, with regard to her questions about our diet.

  ‘Tumne bola hum tamatar ki sabzi khaate hain ghar pe?’

  She confessed that she had.

  I asked Kajal, as politely as I could, if she had by any chance lost her mind. She mumbled a barely audible confession about how she had been unable to think of anything else at that moment.

  I sighed.

  Trying to recall the exact line that summed up the situation, I muttered to myself, ‘O what a tangled web we weave … when first we practise to deceive.’

  ‘Haanji? Kuchh bola aapne?’ Kajal’s contrite and eager-to-please voice broke into my moody contemplation. I assured her I had not been talking to her.

  This pack of lies was so needless. It could never lead to anything good.

  And it was all Vijay’s fault, of course.

  9

  Mo’ Counseling, Mo’ Problems

  ‘So, your in-laws have come to visit you for a month?’

  I nodded, watching Lavanya’s eyebrows rise as she spoke, the left one as always higher than the right.

  The two of us were sitting in her office while Vijay waited outside. He had already finished his session, using only about twenty minutes of the scheduled half-hour. As Lavanya had explained, the way it worked was that every week, each of us would have our individual discussions with her, followed by a joint round-up session. Today was Step One of her personally designed Twelve Step Relationship Rehabilitation Program. We had just started and I found that strangely, I was getting used to her incessant look-ma-no-eyes note-taking and eyebrow acrobatics.

  She prompted me to talk, with a probing question. ‘So, what do they have to say about the situation between you two?’

  ‘Well,’ I squirmed a little uncomfortably, ‘we’re actually pretending that nothing is wrong at all. Vijay doesn’t want them to know about it or they would worry. They’re kind of old-fashioned, you know, they wouldn’t really understand this counselling bit either.’ I quickly added, ‘Well, I haven’t even told my own mum yet. You know how Vijay feels about it being a personal matter …’

  ‘Hmm, I see,’ said Lavanya, although I could sense a note of scepticism in her voice. ‘So how are things at home just now?’

  ‘It’s really not that bad, I guess,’ I began. ‘Things are kind of peaceful.’ I thought over the last couple of days and was silent for a little while, and then said, ‘Actually, I really do hate putting up an act like this. I think Vijay tries to hide too many things from them about us, the way that we live – and especially me. It’s different from our visits to their place in Jaipur somehow – I guess those are always short visits around festival time … but this feels more fake somehow.’ For a moment, I considered telling her about the tamatar episode, but dropped it on the grounds that it would require too much explanation of Kajal as a character. Or worse, I thought she might ask me to bring in Kajal for counselling, and who wanted to open that door just now?

  I went on, ‘See … the thing is, I’ve never been the type to cook, manage a house and so on, and I feel his parents may not really approve of the fact that in three years, I’ve made very little progress on these things. I think they also feel I’m a bit clueless when it comes to the baby. I am inexperienced all right, but I try to read up all I can and do the right thing, but still, we’re constantly having disagreements about what his family considers my new-fangled and westernized concepts versus what I think of as their outdated old wives’ tales … But I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t know anything. Maybe I’m just not up to their high standards or something. Maybe it was all just one big mistake.’

  By the time I finished my speech, I was feeling extremely depressed and sorry for myself. I felt my eyes welling up with tears as I looked beseechingly at Lavanya for the help and sympathy that I deserved and needed at this point of time.

  ‘Hmmm.’ Lavanya put down her pen and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘You know, everything that you just said …’ she began and I was all agog ‘… sounds to me like a load of crap.’

  My mouth fell slightly open and it crossed my mind that I had never asked her where she went to psychotherapy school. I was unable to say anything in response. It was unnecessary anyway, because she continued, ‘First of all, it’s not really about acceptance by them. I said this at our first meeting – I think your problem is actually one of self-acceptance. If you were truly confident and comfortable about who you are, their explicit approval or disapproval would matter a lot less to you. Isn’t that right?’

  I thought about it and nodded slowly.

  ‘You’re a smart person with many talents; you’re going to go back to work soon, and you’ll be bringing in money into the household, and it’s perfectly alright that you aren’t interested in the kitchen. Accept that about yourself and let any criticism in this regard just slide off you – like water off a duck’s back, you know?’

  ‘Your baby is, what, about six, seven months old? You’re still a very new mom, and it can be overwhelming. You’re doing the right thing by figuring out your own opinion about how your baby should be raised, and by and large, you seem to be doing fine. It can be very difficult, coming to terms with your new responsibilities, and in fact post partum depression is a very common phenomenon, affecting up to twenty-five per cent of new mothers – it seems to me that you’ve possibly undergone some form of post partum depression, which you may only now be coming out of.’

  I felt like jumping up, rushing out to Vijay and doing my ‘I-win-you-lose’ dance, and shouting in his ear, ‘Yess! See? PPD! I TOLD YOU SO.’ But I refrained from doing this as I felt it would be inappropriate, given what I had just been diagnosed with.

  ‘However …’ There was always a however. I knew she couldn’t just have left it as my being an intelligent, talented, superlative young working mother who was successfully pulling herself out of PPD.

  ‘There are a few things which you should realize. The first being that your husband also has a stake in your baby. It wouldn’t have happened without him, and so it’s unfair to cut him off from decisions regarding her. For the first three months after she was born, your reluctance to move out of your mother’s place and let him be a part of his baby’s life was perhaps not the best thing to do – it made him feel cut off and alienated. After all, you must always remember that she is as much his as yours.’

  I thought about throwing in my usual automatic argument about the fact that she would always be more mine because he hadn’t been through a pregnancy. But then I thought back to the days of the pregnancy, about how he had been there every step of the way – holding my hand as I whined, trying to enter the bathroom to rub my back as I threw up, making appointments and driving me to them, buying me things, carrying my bags – and yet being forced to duck behind the sofa on the many occasions when I was taking out all my discomfort and anger on him. Although he had never really complained about it, I knew that my pregnancy had been very rough on him.

  I admitted to Lavanya, ‘I guess I have been a little, uh, fixed, in terms of the way I want to raise her. But we can’t agree on anything now, ever. I don’t know what happened – he was great during my pregna
ncy. But somehow things changed between us almost the minute Peanut was born – it all started to fall apart.’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic.’ Lavanya’s stern tone made me jump. She continued, ‘Nothing started to fall apart. The only thing that happened was that his focus shifted. And perhaps he overdid it a little, possibly because he knew he wouldn’t get that much time with the baby since you were in Delhi, but that doesn’t mean he stopped loving you. In fact,’ she eyed me penetratingly and something told me I wasn’t going to like what she was going to say next, ‘it may be that being so much younger than him, you’ve sort of been the baby in the relationship and so you were used to all his attention and became a bit resentful about having to share it. Am I right?’

  My first instinct was to hotly disagree, but I restrained myself. I knew almost immediately that while it was a little difficult for me to admit, Lavanya had hit the nail right on my head. I was kind of used to the pampering that Vijay had given me in the good old days, especially the royal treatment during the pregnancy. I realized now that I had expected it to continue after the baby arrived – for him to centre all his attention on me while I took care of the baby. I murmured in assent that maybe Lavanya had something there.

  ‘Well, maybe this is a phase of life which requires a lot more growing up for you,’ Lavanya suggested. ‘This is a time for you both to focus on – and enjoy the baby you’ve made together – and that doesn’t mean that you two lose focus on your own relationship. It just means that the equation may need to change now, and that’s okay. You will be a lot happier if you don’t hang on to the past, expecting the same pampering that he’s chosen to spoil you with till now.’

  I nodded meekly. It kind of made sense, although having to grow up was a sad prospect. Should have thought of that before having a baby, though, I reminded myself.

  ‘Okay,’ she said briskly, ‘and now coming to the crux of the matter, there is one behavioural change that I had already asked you to make in the first session – to state your desires as preferences instead of demands. Have you been trying that?’

  I said, ‘Yes … sort of … when I remember. It does help.’

  ‘Good. Keep at it until it becomes a habit. If you act domineering and demanding, it will cause your husband to withdraw further and further into his shell and that is not healthy. The other thing that you need to focus on is treating him with respect and controlling your temper around him. Take deep, even breaths when you feel yourself getting worked up; focus on the fact that the relationship is bigger than the issue; and do not attribute one behaviour or shortfall to the whole person.’

  I thought maybe I should be writing all this down and was about to ask Lavanya for her pen when she looked at her watch and said, ‘Okay, that’s it for your session. Could you please call in your husband, I would like to talk to you both together now.’

  I got out of my chair and creaked the door open. Vijay was sitting there, playing with his phone and pretending that he hadn’t been eavesdropping. However, I knew from having been in his place some time earlier that everything that was said in the room was actually quite audible in the waiting area. I gestured for him to come inside. He strode in behind me and we both took our chairs opposite Lavanya and gazed at her expectantly.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Today both of you have spoken to me about the problems that you have with each other – I think we’re making progress. I’ve already got a good picture of what is ailing your marriage and with some hard work over the next few months, things may turn around for you. After each session, there will be one simple exercise I will ask you to do as homework.’ I felt Vijay stiffening beside me in automatic rebellion at the mention of the H word. ‘Just remember that it’s a difficult thing to rebuild relationships and it’s a process that requires commitment as well as patience. But it’s a serious matter and you must remember you’ve done the right thing by seeking professional help. Do try and focus on each other’s positive qualities a lot more.’ She looked at us, still grave and unsmiling. ‘And please continue to engage in open …’ she gave Vijay a pointed look ‘and respectful,’ she gave me a pointed look ‘dialogue at home about any issues that may come up, and record them if they remain unresolved for our discussion next time. So that’s it for today. See you both next we–’

  ‘Wait, wait,’ I said eagerly. ‘What about this week’s homework exercise?’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vijay shooting me an exasperated look, but it was too late for me to take my words back.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Lavanya as she looked at her watch. She gave a start. ‘Already eight p.m.! I must rush.’ She quickly snapped her notebook shut, gathered up her papers, picked up her bag and stood up. ‘Well, it’s very simple. The two of you must’ – we braced ourselves and she continued – ‘go on a date. It is really important for you to spend some time together and try to rekindle your romance. Do it in the next few days. And tell me about it when we meet next week.’

  Then she waved absently at us and proceeded to bustle out with her usual rolling gait, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that she was leaving us still rooted in our chairs. On her way out, she slammed her left hand on the switchboard, turning off the lights and fan in one smooth motion, and we found ourselves alone in dark silence.

  We slowly rose from our chairs.

  My head was throbbing a bit and I was only dimly aware of Vijay saying with his newly acquired flair for sarcasm, ‘Have you noticed we seem to be her only clients? Hmm … I really wonder why – she’s great!’

  10

  A Birthday to Remember, Even if You Try to Forget

  I opened my eyes at about seven-thirty in the morning, feeling a combination of childish excitement and grumpy resentment.

  I turned twenty-six today.

  I looked at the tiny sleeping infant next to me. Peanut’s pink lips were slightly parted, her cheeks smooth and round, her eyelashes so long that if they had been anyone else’s, I would have suspected they were false. She looked like a little doll. ‘Well done, Y,’ I congratulated myself, not for the first time, for producing such perfection.

  I then looked over at the figure asleep on the other side of Peanut. He was all bundled up tight in a mess of blankets, and completely still. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled how in earlier, happier days, we had a little tradition on my birthday – Vijay waking me up with a cup of tea which he had prepared himself.

  I was contemplating in a melancholy frame of mind how I was already a has-been at the tender age of twenty-six, with a husband who no longer seemed to love her, when a shadowy figure materialized near my side of the bed, causing me to almost cry out in fright.

  ‘Happy Birthday, Y,’ said Vijay, holding out a cup of tea for me.

  A swift double take caused me to surmise that the sleeping figure on the other side of Peanut was actually just a mess of blankets and the person now standing by the bed was in fact the real Vijay. As my heartbeat slowed back to normal, I was touched to see that he hadn’t forgotten our little tradition. I sat up and accepted the cup of tea, and he settled down at the foot of the bed as I started to sip from it. Maybe this would be a good birthday, after all.

  ‘I was thinking,’ he said, ‘Lavanya said that we should go out on a date. And it’s your birthday today – so how about I take you out this evening to a nice place?’

  This was getting better and better. We hadn’t been on an actual, real date in … ages. Well, at least in about the last year or so. ‘Sure,’ I agreed, the warmth of the tea spreading through my body along with the warmth of hope that perhaps things between us were finally on the mend.

  When I got ready and came out of our room, I found that Mummyji had already been at it in the kitchen and she had made the most delicious atte-and-suji ka halwa because it was my birthday. We had a merry breakfast together of alu-parathas and halwa – and for once, I didn’t miss my staple diet of toast and omelette.

  Mummyji was happy to hear about our plans to go out i
n the evening and assured us that Peanut would be fine without us and we really should get out of the house together, sometimes. She also presented me with a really nice blue-and-black striped sweater which Vijay had picked out on her behalf. I tried it on and it was a perfect fit. I grinned around at the lot of them, briefly wondering if this childlike pleasure of receiving gifts on my birthday would last till I turned eighty. I hoped so.

  Vijay was going off to work, but he promised he would be home early in the evening. He also hinted that he was planning a surprise gift for me and he would bring it with him when he came home.

  I wondered what it would be. A new phone? A new guitar? Maybe a nice watch? It didn’t really matter, of course.

  An iPod?

  I was in an unusually good mood the whole day, and started getting ready to go out at about 6 p.m. I showered and put on one of my favourite outfits, a green-and-black dress. It was a bit of a squeeze, but after I’d brushed my hair, put on a pair of earrings and a little lipstick, I found I was reasonably satisfied as I surveyed my reflection in the mirror.

  At 6.30 p.m., Vijay came home from work, and after greeting Mummyji and Papaji and kissing Peanut on her fat cheeks, he signalled for me to follow him into our room. I went along curiously after him and almost bumped into him when he spun around and produced with a flourish, a large brown paper bag from somewhere on his person. I reeled backwards a bit at his sudden movement and reeled a bit more at the smell emanating from the bag. ‘What’s this?’ I asked.

  He had a loving smile on his face. ‘It’s your birthday gift.’

  ‘Okayyy.’ I said, accepting the slightly oily paper bag with some reluctance. As I looked into it, he said in a loud, proud whisper, ‘I bought you kababs.’

  Ah. This was my gift.

  The gift of meat.

  Great.

  ‘Thanks, hon.’ I tried to sound pleased and grateful. ‘But I just ate a while back. Besides, we’re going out in a while for dinner, right? You didn’t have to do this.’ I fished out an unidentifiable piece of meat dripping oil and emphasized, ‘You REALLY didn’t have to.’