I Didn't Expect to be Expecting (Ravinder Singh Presents)

by Richa S Mukherjee

  When I got back to the movie, Abhi was sitting on the bed, looking amused.

  ‘I should have recorded your face as every pearl of wisdom hit you.’

  ‘What a rascal you are. You didn’t even come to my rescue,’ I complained. ‘I’m not even four months pregnant and now I feel double that with all that advice!’

  ‘Anyway, let’s get back to the movie for now.’ Abhi settled back, pulling me towards him.

  ‘I guess,’ I said, still reeling from that well-intentioned but exacting session.

  ‘But you can’t watch this movie!’ Abhi suddenly sat up.

  ‘Huh! Why?’ I asked surprised.

  ‘Because the rays of the TV aren’t good for the womb.’

  ‘Abhi!’ I screamed in frustration as he ran out of the room.

  30

  Richard & Davis Advertising Agency. 29 May. 12:15 p.m.

  My phone rang in the middle of a meeting. It was the home landline. I excused myself and walked out of the boardroom. Mom had arrived the previous day and I assumed she needed something. ‘Mom, all okay?’ I asked.

  ‘Deva!’ moaned a voice at the other end. That did not sound like Mom’s voice. The mystery was solved with the whisper I heard next. ‘Didi! It’s Radha.’

  ‘Radha? Where is Mom? Why are you calling me?’

  ‘Ammaji is here. But you need to help me.’

  ‘With what?’ I asked, irritated.

  ‘She keeps scolding me! It’s like everything I’m doing is wrong. And I had told you about my chutti tomorrow, but she said I better come because I had taken four days off the last week. You have to save me.’

  After hearing all my moaning-groaning about Radha, Mom had taken it upon herself to straighten her out. The bai mafia had been subdued and was sounding scared and intimidated for once. My mommy would reform Radha, even if temporarily. What joy!

  3:40 p.m.

  With the intention of submitting some evaluation reports, I made my way to Ms Venugopal’s cabin and knocked on the door. No answer. I thought she might be away at some meeting but as I turned away, I heard a loud sob from the room, which was followed by a half-stifled sniffle. What was this then? I was in two minds about what to do, but when I heard another sniffle punctuated by a half-sob, I made up my mind. I knocked and walked in. Ms Venugopal, that eternally confident woman, was sitting slouched on a sofa by the wall.

  I walked closer and put my hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Ms Venugopal? All okay?’ Well, clearly it wasn’t, but in these situations, it’s the norm to ask obvious questions. So I went with the flow. She looked up forlornly and hiccupped. She was drunk! She didn’t even try to look away or make any excuse for her state.

  ‘Ms Venu, I know this is none of my business and frankly I don’t know what this business is anyway, but you really can’t be seen like this. Please go freshen up. Anyone can walk in here. I don’t need to tell you the company policy about drinking at work. Now come along!’

  Fifteen minutes later, looking more like herself, she walked slowly back to her desk and sat down as I handed her a strong cup of coffee.

  ‘You’re the one who needs the care right now and here you’re having to drag my fat behind around. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me,’ she said solemnly.

  ‘I’m just fine. But what has gotten into you? Who hates you?’

  ‘You can’t tell anyone. You have to promise me. Not now, not ever, not to anyone, ever, not now, not …’

  ‘We’ve covered that. I won’t. Go on.’

  She again broke into a sob. ‘Mr Vohra hates me!’

  I was puzzled. ‘Mr Vohra? You know how moody he is. Why would you say he hates you? And even if he does, how does it matter to you? As long as work…’

  She wailed even louder, ‘It does because I … I … I love him!’

  It is human nature to want to know more. Curiosity drives us to any lengths. Then there were moments in life where you wish you didn’t know things. Like the fact that your bhelpuri wala had scratched his bum before lovingly preparing your ‘fresh’ evening snack, or that it was mandatory for parents to ‘do’ something to make you. I had just made such a discovery. I wanted to run out screaming ‘My ears my ears!’ but all I said was an ‘Oh’.

  Was she in love with Military or Saada Vohra? Did she wish for them to get close? This led to a mental image of Vohra and her on a park bench, kissing.

  ‘Are you … I mean are you sure about … about your feelings for him?’

  She sported that faraway look that you see in movies just before the screen shifts to a black-and-white flashback. ‘I’ve loved him since the day I laid eyes on him three years ago.’ I thought back to the first time I had laid eyes on Mr Vohra. Clearly we had seen two very different people.

  ‘I have been so patient. Dropped hints, looked at him in my special way so many times, made so many things for him, all the while being extremely sincere at my work. But nothing.’ She threw her arms up in frustration.

  So then why was she always trying the Kimi Katkar seductress act with other men, including my poor Abhi? That left me scratching my head. As if reading my mind, she filled in the blanks.

  ‘Oh, the other act? Just nonsense to entertain myself. How else is an old single woman to pass the time!’ I could think of at least twenty-five other ways, but I chose to keep mum.

  ‘I just don’t know what to do, Tara.’ Now, giving love advice to fifty-year-olds was a bit beyond my area of expertise, but I tried.

  ‘Well, just be patient, Ms Venu.’ I patted her on the shoulder. ‘I’m sure things will work out. Patience is key. Chin up!’ A quick hug and I was out of there.

  Though my mind was still painting some unwanted pictures featuring Ms Venu and Vohra, I had to admit there was something extremely romantic about this malady of love that had come calling, albeit a bit late in life, just like the approaching monsoons. I just wished that I hadn’t been the chosen receiver of this piece of information. And with that came yet another horrific image of them together. Brain! Slap!

  31

  Baby and Me store. 30 May. 5:00 p.m.

  ‘Mom, I don’t know how you’ve done it, but Radha is actually making food and not just burnt mush. That palak paneer yesterday was fabulous!’

  I had come home early do a bit of shopping for the baby with Mom and we were in Phoenix Mills walking towards the baby stores.

  ‘She is a decent cook. But lazy,’ Mom said, shaking her head. ‘You’ve spoilt her.’

  We walked into Baby and Me, and as soon as I saw the place, I just knew we would be leaving much poorer. Could anyone be immune to this much cuteness? Even the otherwise staid and in-control Mommy Verma was breaking into wide smiles and ‘Awwwle baba!’ every few minutes.

  I was sauntering around, clucking at the poor impressionable shoppers much like myself, and then suddenly my jaw dropped. Right in front of me was the Babyland – a state-of-the-art musical and interactive jungle gym. I had read about it, but nothing could have prepared me for this amount of cuteness. It was the most adorable contraption I had ever laid my eyes on. Amidst a burst of colour, there were furry animals and birds hanging everywhere, and with the flip of a switch, it would start playing nursery rhymes while small fairy lights embedded in the soft fabric started flashing.

  ‘Hello ma’am,’ chirped a perky assistant from behind us. She pointed at the jungle gym. ‘It is specially designed to help keep the baby entertained for a long time with educational and growth-related features.’

  She rambled on while we were staring at the gym. ‘Ma’am, I promise you this is surely one of a kind. If you see anything like this, you call Naira.’ I looked around for Naira, till she tapped her badge. ‘By the way, ma’am, may I ask who you intend to gift this to?’

  ‘To my baby. In five months, though,’ I said.

  ‘Ma’am, you are so fit! You don’t look like you’re pregnant at all. Wow!’

  I couldn’t help grinning widely, though I knew fully well
that she could be flattering me for the sake of a sale.

  ‘So how much does this cost?’ I enquired.

  ‘Only Rs 4,999, ma’am. Today is a special day, so I have factored in a special discount of a hundred rupees,’ she added magnanimously.

  ‘What!’ shrieked Mom from behind me. ‘Are you selling a play-gym or a real one?! This is loot in broad daylight. And why do you always make everything one rupee short? Just say five thousand. Anyway, we will not waste money on this stupidity. Nonsense!’

  Roasters Coffee Shop, 5:45 p.m.

  We were sitting in a coffee shop, and the huge packed up jungle gym was staring back at us. Mom was shaking her head while chomping down the chocolate pastry on her plate.

  ‘Thieves, I tell you. Some clothes, toys and a jobless gym for Rs 8,000.’

  ‘Umm, jungle gym, not jobless gym,’ I corrected my poor, flustered mother.

  ‘Same thing,’ she said dismissively. ‘They are making a living looting people.’

  ‘That’s the way it is nowadays, Mom. Life is going to be expensive. We have a home loan for the Thane house we bought, we have the car loan, plus we will need a nanny, plus baby expenses. What if I need to take a longer break from work? What if I’m really bad with the baby and need many nannies to help out?’ My voice trailed off as my mind wandered to childhood memories, when I would see my mother hide small wads of money all over the house. From jars of rice to the bottom of the matress and sometimes even in her underwear drawer! Now I would possibly have to count every penny and find my own hiding spots for a rainy day.

  Mom must have figured out where my mind was drifting to, because she suddenly perked up and announced with her hand on top of mine, ‘You think your Dad and I had any answers? You happened because we didn’t know any better (cut to my incensed face) and Mira happened because of Maji (my paternal grandmother) who, much like Saxena Auntie’s mom-in-law, was sure I would produce a boy, thanks to all the goat’s milk she made me drink during my pregnancy. But it all worked out, didn’t it?’ Then she sighed wistfully. ‘Well, it seems like life has come a full circle, since Mira is now selling milk! Don’t you worry. Everything will happen smoothly. And even if that mumble gym was for ten thousand rupees, I would have still bought it for my little baby.’ She lovingly patted my stomach.

  ‘Mom, jungle gym!’ I said, throwing my hands in the air.

  ‘Yes, that!’ She nodded.

  My phone beeped as we were getting up. I groaned after checking the message. It was a reminder from Dr Peerbhoy’s formidable battalion for my appointment next week.

  ‘Who is it, beta?’ Mom asked.

  ‘My gynaecologist’s office. I have an appointment coming up next week.’

  ‘Oh. By the way, how much does a normal delivery cost in the hospital you will deliver in?’

  ‘Well, I asked some friends who have delivered at Healthline Hospital. Approximately a lakh and a half?’

  ‘Rupees!?’

  ‘That is still the acceptable currency the last I checked. Why?’

  As a response, she sat back down, ordered another chocolate pastry and put her head into her waiting hands.

  11:45 p.m.

  Abhi was snoring next to me and I was solving a crossword puzzle when my phone rang.

  ‘Mira! What’s wrong?’

  ‘Tadi. Hi. Wrong? What do you mean?’

  ‘Huh? You’re calling me in the dead of night and gave me a fright. You know late-night calls give me the heebie-jeebies.’

  ‘Umm, Tadi, it’s only eleven-forty-five, not the dead of night.’

  ‘Is that so?’ I scratched my head. ‘Oh well. Just get pregnant and your definition of late nights will change.’

  ‘I think I’m way off that target currently. Anyway listen, I need a favour.’

  ‘Sure, tell me?’ I said, my curiosity peaked.

  ‘I’m in Mumbai on Friday. For a meeting.’

  ‘That’s awesome, Mira! Come over then.’

  ‘I had planned it as a surprise for Mom but I got a bit of a … surprise myself. Rahul is coming back from his work trip a day early just to meet me. I have an early-morning flight the next day. So I’ll want to meet him and you guys.’

  I frowned. ‘Well, he knows you have family here, so why did he have to do this?’

  ‘Tadi! Please don’t do this. I know you don’t like him much, but he really wants to see me and well … I want to see him.’

  ‘So you admit you’re dating him.’

  ‘Call it what you like, but please can I get him with me tomorrow evening? Please please please? And will you please handle Mom as well? Please please please?’

  ‘Mira, why…?’

  ‘Tadeeeeeee! Pleaaaase?!’

  ‘Fine!’ I said exasperatedly.

  ‘Thanks a ton! Love you! See you soon!’

  So Johnny Bravo was going to descend on my home yet again. And this time, I’d have him and Mom’s questions to deal with. That Mira!

  32

  Dham Dhaam. 31 May. 8:00 p.m.

  The original plan had been a burnt feast at home, prepared by Radha. But Radha had refused to turn up and Mom had refused to let me cook. I had refused to let Mom cook. Mira had refused to eat Chinese. Abhi had refused to eat Italian. So after a long round of refusals, Abhi stood up and ended the madness by announcing that we were going to Frangipani, one of our favourite multi-cuisine restaurants.

  Just when we were leaving the house, Raool turned up in a long mustard-coloured full-sleeved kurta, like Johnny Bravo on a pilgrimage to Haridwar. Abhi’s eyes lit up like a Diwali flowerpot firecracker.

  I walked onto the stage to play my part. ‘Hey Raool.’ I had spent a better part of the previous two days convincing Mom that Raool was an enterprising, ambitious and sweet friend of Mira’s.

  ‘If he is just a friend, then why do I need such a detailed introduction?’ Mom had asked with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘You would have asked. I’m just informing you in advance,’ I had said and shrugged.

  All that explaining and bricklaying proved futile as soon as Raool walked in the door. As if the sudden switch to the Indian garb was not shocking enough, he was also sporting a long white tika on his forehead and a matching beatific smile on his lips. After greeting us, he threw Mira a furtive smile and walked to Mom. He bent over as low as her knees, and while she was trying to find out what he was doing down there, he came up, greeting her in his loud booming voice with a, ‘Hari Om, Auntie!’

  I had to physically guide Mom’s slack jaw back into its position. She was gaping at him with the same look I remembered on a nine-year-old Mira’s face when she had first seen a chimpanzee in the zoo. But, collecting herself, Mom did manage an, ‘Umm, hello beta.’

  I looked at Mira and she smiled at me sheepishly. ‘He has been learning the yogic way of life. It’s something new he is experimenting with,’ she whispered in my ear by way of an explanation. I just shook my head and guided everyone towards the car.

  Frangipani Restaurant. 9:00 p.m.

  ‘Sir, we have a dress code here. You cannot enter the restaurant in flip-flops.’

  ‘Man came into this world without wearing any shoes, I’m at least wearing chappals.’

  ‘I can’t represent mankind, sir, but I do represent this hotel and we have rules here.’

  This would have probably gone on forever, but thankfully, Mira intervened.

  ‘We can just buy you a pair from the shopping arcade or go to another restaurant,’ she said, looking irritated. Then Abhi came to the rescue, rushing to the car to get the extra pair of formal shoes he kept there as contingency. So we all were finally allowed in. Raool the yogi in his formal shoes gave the manager one more scathing and condescending look as he passed him. Right on his heels were Sania and Kabir, who wanted to meet Mom before she left.

  ‘Well, that was quite a performance, Raool!’ I couldn’t resist remarking, even as Abhi elbowed me.

  ‘But that was not an act. They should not have so many dos and
don’ts. And you all musn’t always comply. The right deeds and not the right attire is what is really important!’ he explained happily as Mira rolled her eyes.

  ‘So what brought on this tide of serenity? Where did the hairspray and gel and tight clothes go?’ I asked innocently, ignoring Mira’s furious glare.

  Yogi Johnny was unperturbed. ‘I was in San Francisco for a month and stayed with my friend, who is a yoga guru. He runs a centre that teaches yoga and helps people live a better, simpler life. I’m a new man now.’

  ‘But why learn yoga in America?’ Mom suddenly spoke up. ‘Mira’s papa is also a certified instructor post retirement. So many yoga gurus in India. Why you need to go to the US? Changing yourself in India is so much easier and cheaper.’

  She sounded genuinely confused, but we all wanted to burst out laughing.

  ‘So who will be handling your business while you pursue yoga and well … your new life?’ asked Abhi as we all placed our orders.

  ‘My pitashree understands that currently my needs are greater than the needs of the business. He is handling work and giving me time.’

  ‘Spoilt brat,’ I muttered under my breath. But Mom came up with something even better:

  ‘Pagal hai bechaara.’

  10:15 p.m.

  Soon the conversation ran dry. Mira piped up, tapping her glass with her fork, ‘Let’s raise our glasses to Tadi today. For finding the strength to carry RJ and be her awesome self, despite all that she has to do! May the…’

  ‘ …baby not regret choosing us. May we be able to afford the baby,’ I cut into her speech. Sania stared at me while Abhi took my glass of red wine from my hands.

  ‘This is what happens when you let a pregnant woman drink a little bit after a long time!’

  10:45 p.m.

  At some point, when I went to the bathroom, Mira came along with me, looking embarrassed. I could see that she desperately wanted us to like Raool. I decided that I was going to try. I hugged her and said, ‘Relax. Don’t try so hard and don’t worry so much. If you want me to like Baba Johnny Bravo, I’ll try, okay? But I can’t promise much till I know what his next avatar will be.’