I returned to the table to see everyone listening with rapt attention to the entertainment for the evening, while Mom sat with a faraway look in her eyes. I went and sat next to her.
‘Why so pensive, Mom?’
‘Nothing, beta.’
‘Oh, come on. Are you missing Dad?’ I elbowed her with a smile.
Her stern mouth relaxed into a small smile as well. ‘If I don’t argue with him once a day I can’t seem to digest my food. You know, he really wanted to come and see you. But honestly speaking, I was thinking of Mira. I’m worried about her, you know?’
‘Why, Mom? She’s doing great!’
‘First she goes and sells milk. I don’t even know who is buying it. And now this bloody fool. Where did she find him? What kind of friend is he?’
‘Mom, relax. He’s not that bad. Don’t you think there is something nice about what he is trying to do? Good behaviour, right way of living. Isn’t that what your babas say?’
I was interrupted by Raool suddenly rising, his arms wide open like he was in some rock concert addressing his fans.
‘After finishing dinner, it is time to thank God for the meal with a loud “Ommmmmmmm!” Come on, everyone!’
I decided to rest my futile case for the night.
33
Dr Peerbhoy’s Clinic. 1 June. 6:30 p.m.
It was time for another appointment. I was glad Mom had left before she could attend one of our sessions. Abhi and I had decided to wage war with a bagful of snacks and many devices to stave off boredom. He was now munching loudly and getting looks from other hungry husbands around while I was busy taking trips to the bathroom. An hour and fifteen minutes later, we were still waiting.
7:20 p.m.
‘So why are you already getting fat, dear?’ asked Dr Peerbhoy with the widest smile that I had ever seen. I looked up at her, surprised. Wait a minute. Where was that darling lady I had fallen in love with on my first visit? This one was sounding rather mean.
‘You’re only in your fifth month,’ she continued. ‘Eat, but don’t eat like you’re eating for five. We don’t want you to become five hundred pounds by the time you deliver. Think about your poor husband. Who wants to have sex with a five-hundred-pound wife?’ The smile did not falter.
‘Well, I’ve only put on three kgs really,’ I said a bit churlishly. ‘Am I not supposed to put on weight anyway?’
‘In the first three months there is not much foetus weight, so you are not supposed to put on much either. Which means that if you put on two kgs every month and maybe more, right towards the end, you’ll be using up a lot more space in my waiting room. You shouldn’t put on more than ten to twelve kgs. Unless you’re okay with being a lump of lard.’ Again, a smile as tight as ever. How did this woman insult so effortlessly!
Abhi moved in to the rescue. ‘But doctor, she really eats cautiously. And probably the healthiest food on planet earth.’
‘Be that as it may, I’d rather listen to the weighing scale than her loyal husband.’ She smiled even wider. Abhi promptly settled back down in his chair, duly chastised, while I sulked.
‘I need to give you an injection and then let’s look at the little one.’
We were once again looking at the very calm black-and-white sea on the monitor when suddenly it got choppy as the probe started moving. She then put a small unit on my tummy, which looked like an alien signal transmitter. And it helped me listen to the sound that I would never forget for the rest of my life.
‘There’s the heartbeat.’ Abhi and I froze. It was the most startling yet soothing sound I had heard in my entire life. The constant determined beats, sounding as if they were trying to tell us that despite all our apprehensions and fears, the baby was here to stay.
Abhi’s eyes were round as a raccoon’s as he looked at the tiny tadpole version of a human being with coiled hands and legs. ‘T, we are going to be responsible for an entire human being,’ he whispered to me. ‘Tumi aami aekla ki korbo baba? How will we manage?’ His onset of Bangla heralded another bout of panic attack in me, which I tried to stem by squeezing his hand tightly and smiling at him.
‘So we are approximately at week seventeen,’ announced Dr Peerbhoy’s voice, breaking our personal moment. She peered at the screen and moved the probe around my tummy. ‘Everything looks fine,’ she continued in a sing-song manner, as if talking to herself. ‘It can hear you now, you know. So be careful what you say!’
Dham Dhaam. 10:30 p.m.
Just before going to sleep I stood in front of the mirror and tapped my tummy. The feedback was a heavy jiggle. No amount of tapping would restore it to its taut glory – at least for a while. I sighed. Though the thought of that beautiful and steady heartbeat, two tiny feet and the cutest, tiniest hands in the world filled my heart, my dreams that night were filled with visions of myself become larger and larger, till I got stuck in the door frame of the main entrance!
34
Royal Cafē. 4 June. 10:00 p.m.
The iciness between Shoma and Sania post the pregnancy reveal night had not thawed much, so we decided to all go out for dinner to initiate the peace process.
Being a Sunday night, there wasn’t much of a crowd and post dinner, we decided to take a table in the outdoor section of the restaurant for some coffee. Abhi, Kabir, Mani and I had tried to make light conversation through dinner but the two wounded lionesses refused to be drawn out.
‘Enough, you silly women!’ I suddenly announced. Looking at me, Abhi couldn’t resist and started guffawing. Mani and Kabir weren’t far behind and even Sania looked like she was trying really hard to stop herself from laughing. Only Shoma looked incensed. ‘What exactly is so funny?’ she thundered.
I looked at Shoma. ‘Darling, all of us have so much on our plates already. Why are you still feeling so vexed about something so trivial? I had absolutely no intention of keeping anything from you. This fool just happened to be at work and I told her,’ I said, pointing at Sania as she stuck her tongue out at me. ‘And it’s not as if your friendship is just because of me. You guys have your own equation and get along so well, so then why are you throwing that away because you feel slighted? Just forget it. C’mon Sania, you as well.’
My instruction hung in the air as they both looked at each other for a bit. Then they rose together and we saw a scene out of a Yash Raj film unfold. They walked forward and melted in each other’s arms, laughing.
‘Get a room, you guys,’ said Mani, rolling his eyes.
‘Oh, shut up!’ they both responded in unison.
I felt a big weight lift off my chest and that instantly resulted in the need for alcohol. ‘Time to park those baby biscottis and coffee. I say get me a drink!’ I announced jovially.
‘And I say no. You just had a drink two weeks ago at dinner,’ said Abhi, shaking his head.
Shoma saw an open spot and jumped in. ‘Research shows that Indian women who drink more than 25 ml of alcohol in a week are 90 per cent more prone…’
‘Shoma!’ I hissed. ‘You’ve just gained a friend and are about to be whacked by another one.’
‘Okay okay. I’ll let it go today, but I will continue giving you information whether you like it or not. You’ll see. RJ will thank me later.’ She sat back down.
I stood up. ‘I am not stupid and I am not an alcoholic. But if I want a drink once, when I am in the mood, I will bloody well have my few sips without any more lectures. Clear?’ I announced to the room and got nods from all directions. Even Abhi gave me a wide toothy grin and headed to the bar with everyone’s orders.
10:45 p.m.
Even my highly diluted drink was tasting like nectar.
‘T, what’s with the goofy smile?’ Abhi elbowed me.
‘I have attained temporary nirvaana. Do not disturb me,’ I said, swishing the drink around my mouth. ‘I’m just so glad that …’ I let out a startled cry.
Everyone came running. Abhi’s face was white as a sheet.
‘Are you okay, baby? Should I
call the doctor?’ He looked very worried. I was suddenly embarrassed at my reaction, which had startled everyone.
‘I just wanted to share proof that RJ enjoys Pimms as well,’ I said sheepishly.
Sania straightened up and raised an eyebrow. ‘And how exactly did you figure that out?’
‘RJ just moved!’
‘What!’ Abhi lowered himself on his knees and stuck his hand onto my stomach. In ten seconds I had five hands all stuck to my belly.
‘Guys, this is an invasion of privacy! Get your paws off!’
‘No chance’ being the general chant, I sat sipping my Pimms with a bunch of people squatting on the floor with their hands on my stomach. I extended my arm and took a selfie that I knew would make me smile later.
‘Enjoying yourself, are you?’ asked Mani, who was trying to keep his hand stable. ‘Where is the kick?’
‘Well, it’s not as if I get a daily agenda with timings on the notice board. This is the first time it’s happened,’ I reasoned.
‘Wait a minute!’ exclaimed Shoma. ‘I know what this is. It’s not a kick, it’s gas. Ninety per cent of pregnant women get very gassy during…’
‘Aww man!’ Sania frowned at her. ‘Trust you to spoil the moment with your gassy statistics.’
As if RJ had had enough of this senseless conversation, he ended it with another kick.
The expression on everyone’s face was priceless. They had all felt it. And as goofy grins and toasts were breaking out all around, I knew RJ had finally met his/ her extended family. I felt safe in the realization that thankfully, not just a jittery set of parents, but a big, loving, extended family was waiting to greet my baby.
35
Richard & Davis Advertising Agency. 6 June. 11:40 a.m.
‘Isn’t this the same c####a picture she has posted nine times already?’ Sania enquired, peering into Ms Venugopal’s Facebook profile page. I was right next to her, staring intently at the screen.
‘I feel so bad. The poor woman’s lost her marbles. All of them.’
The voluptuous, well-dressed and traditionally clad Ms Venu had the panache to carry off most clothes on her well-endowed frame. Somehow, recently she had been bitten by two bugs together. The first was Western wear of the most sort. Bug two was Facebook, which she used to post unflattering pictures in those unflattering clothes. To make matters worse, she was struggling with the application. I had been poked multiple times at 2 in the morning and had to convince Abhi not to put a restraining order on her. Sania had been befriended and unfriended several times. Ms Venu’s most recent struggle was with her display picture, which she kept cropping wrong and accidentally posting every effort along the way.
‘That top looks like it’s being tortured and that skirt looks like several babies puked on it at the same time.’
‘Agreed, her new dressing sense is terrible. But see, her face is still pretty.’
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Ms Venu came bustling in.
‘Yes, Ms Venu?’ I asked politely.
‘Well, here’s all the post-appraisal paperwork and letters for your team,’ she said, lowering the stack of files while giving me an unwanted eyeful of her ample bosom.
‘Thanks a ton. Oh, and would you have Mr Vohra’s approval on the new hire, Rekha’s, letter? I will definitely need it today. Possible?’
She suddenly blushed and her chest puffed up even more. I was afraid her buttons would pop.
‘You have my word, Tara! You will get that letter today. You and your baby just rest. I will get it done!’ she said, as if announcing a mission. ‘By the way, you are glowing,’ she added graciously before leaving the room.
‘I don’t get it. Why do people have to lie?’ I sighed, settling back into my chair. ‘My name should be Tara Pimpleshwar right now. And she lies to my face.’
Sania had an explanation as always. ‘Darling, even if you had 220 zits, you’d be gorgeous … And anyway, people do feel compelled to say polite things to pregnant women. I suppose since life is about to screw them over anyway, you feel like plumping them up a bit before they get sent to the slaughterhouse. Get it?’ She grinned.
‘Slaughterhouse, huh? Well, don’t be so kind!’ I said caustically as Sania walked out of my cabin, laughing.
Dham Dhaam. 8 June. 10:30 p.m.
I was tapping a pen on my laptop. Abhi finally turned to me and said, ‘Okay, T. What’s on your mind?’
And I obliged.
‘I communicated to all my clients today that I am pregnant and will be taking six months off after my delivery. Of course, I got a whole bunch of congratulatory messages, but then all these mails about back-up plans for the long-term projects started pouring in. People were asking about timelines, and wanted to know who was going to be responsible for my accounts in my absence. It feels like I’m not even dead and everyone has started talking about how to divide my property!’
‘You have property I’m not aware of?’
‘Hilarious.’ I glowered.
‘T, you aren’t related to them. Of course they will be worried about their business.’
‘I know that Abhi! It just hurts to … well, to know that I could be replaceable,’ I said. ‘Professionally I’ve always known exactly what’s in store for me. All of a sudden I feel like I’m in that … what was that silly game show with the three doors and you had to select one door and guess what was behind it? I don’t know what is behind any door anymore. I have no answers. What if I need longer to settle RJ in? What if they aren’t willing to wait for me to come back to work? What if my clients get really upset and leave the agency? We still have financial commitments, so what…’
‘Woah woah woah!’ Abhi interrupted, clamping my mouth shut with his palm. Then he wrapped his arms around me.
‘T, I honestly don’t have answers for most of this stuff. Sometimes even I get really worried wondering whether we will be able to take good care of RJ at all!’
‘Do you know what gets me even more worried?’ I asked.
‘What?’
‘When you start sweating at being called daddy. If you can’t handle something like that, I don’t stand a chance!’
‘I’m new to this as well, baby. What eases my doubts though is the realization that I have this awesome, gorgeous, intelligent, level-headed and capable presence in my life…’
‘Are you talking about Radha?’
‘Thanks for killing the moment!’ Abhi complained as I laughed and lifted my face up to kiss him, gesturing for him to continue.
‘And that realization helps me know that everything will be just fine,’ he finished.
I just looked at him for a while. ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
‘Just that you are the love of my life and that RJ and I are going to enjoy some Yummiez Belgian ice cream right now!’
36
Richard & Davis Advertising Agency. 13 June. 10:00 a.m.
I was sitting in on consumer research for a rather odd-smelling and pungent perfume. But instead of focussing on what respondent number 14 had to say about the product, my mind kept drifting back home. What was making me so uncomfortable?
3:00 p.m.
‘Tara, I hope you have registered your baby into a good playschool?’ Veronica Iyer, a colleague at work, asked while I was getting a drink from the canteen. Initially she was just one of those people at work – the ones you know without really knowing. But since she found out I was pregnant, she had joined herself to my unwilling hip. And was always cramming my brain with unsolicited advice.
‘Why don’t you just tell her to disappear?’ Sania had asked me.
‘Well, she has the aggression of Freddy Krueger, but she’s well meaning,’ I had reasoned.
Now I looked at Veronica, confused.
‘You do realize I don’t have any existing children and I’m only four and a half months pregnant, right?’ I asked her.
‘If you want to get your baby into a good playschool when he or she is about a yea
r and a half, you must register now. Do you know how late you already are?’
I laughed, but she looked stern.
‘This is no laughing matter, Tara. All playschools work that way now. You don’t have a choice.’ She looked even more confident, now that she’d realized that I was clearly clueless and in alien territory. ‘Where have you signed up for pre-natal classes?’ she investigated further.
‘I think you know the answer, Veronica. Nowhere. I’m active. Why do I need prenatal classes?’
‘Tara, Tara, Tara,’ she said, shaking her head like she was addressing a disappointing dish of insipid and soggy gobhi. ‘Trust me. Just try it. I’ll give you a number.’
‘Fine.’ I gave in.
She somehow still looked like I hadn’t appeased her sufficiently.
‘I see that you haven’t got a lot of important information you need. That is why I’m adding you to a chat group called First Crib club. All the advice and info you need at any time of the day or night. Think of it as your umbilical cord!’
‘No thanks. I’m fine, Veronica. Really.’
‘Trust me. You’ll thank me later,’ she said while typing furiously.
Within seconds, my phone began beeping with what seemed like countless women welcoming me to the group.
‘How many members does this group have, Veronica?’
‘About fifteen thousand odd?’
Damn!
8:00 p.m.
On my way back home, I still couldn’t get rid of that nagging feeling.
I could see from outside that the lights were on. I had spoken to Abhi at about 5 and he had said he would be late, so unless this was Mrs Dham who had taken things a step further and invited herself and her friends into my house, I was pretty clueless about who could be home.
I entered and Abhi was working on his laptop, still in his office clothes.
‘Hey baby!’ I yelled out happily.
‘Hi darling,’ he replied, his face a bit sombre.
‘What’s wrong? What happened!’ I hurried towards him.
I Didn't Expect to be Expecting (Ravinder Singh Presents) Page 12