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

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I Didn't Expect to be Expecting (Ravinder Singh Presents) Page 13

by Richa S Mukherjee


  ‘Slow down, slow down.’ He got up and caught my hands as I reached him. Then he pulled me to the couch.

  I asked impatiently, ‘Tell me! What’s wrong?’

  ‘T, I came home early because I got a call from Radha. She couldn’t get through to your phone. Do you remember everything being in order when you left?’

  My mind started racing. ‘I think so, but I’ve had this weird feeling all day that I’d forgotten something.’

  ‘Well, your feeling was right. And let’s just say many things, not merely one.’

  ‘Oh no! What did I miss?’

  ‘Well, I’ll start with the gas, which you left on with an empty pan on it.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  ‘Then there was the iron which you left on in the dry area.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  ‘Then there was the geyser you left on after your bath.’

  ‘What! Please tell me it ends there.’

  ‘Umm, not quite. You also left the main door open behind you. Thankfully, Radha came along or we would have had some squatters in our house for sure today.’

  He smiled, trying to soften the blow, but I felt completely deflated.

  ‘Pregnancy brain.’ I thwacked my head. ‘Some parent I’ll be! Can’t even take care of my own house.’ I sighed heavily.

  ‘Hey hey.’ Abhi made me look up at him. ‘Nothing happened! We were saved by Radha the Great, weren’t we? We just need to be a little more careful now. That’s all. Stop being so hard on yourself!’

  But I was still pensive.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Abhi asked, peering into my face.

  ‘I’ll have to be nice to Radha now!’

  37

  Dham Dhaam. 20 June. 8:30 a.m.

  ‘Beta, I am telling you Patthar Peeda Har Baba has a solution for all problems. Even forgetfulness.’

  ‘Mom, I don’t have a memory problem. If he can throw a few pebbles at my hormones, that might jog my memory a bit!’

  ‘Again with your jokes!’

  ‘Oh c’mon. He is called Patthar Baba. And he recommends and sells Sunza tea. Patthar! Sunza! Such a credible and inspiring combination!’

  ‘Fine. Laugh. You will see one day how special he is. And all the other inspiring babas I follow.’

  ‘The whole lineup is world class. From patthars to mukkas to gems and jewellery! Hey, why no Tiger Baba?’ I asked and tittered.

  With a deep sigh and muttering something about ‘kids these days’, my harrowed mother hung up on me.

  PVR Phoenix Mall. 11:30 p.m.

  ‘What an awesome movie!’ Abhi exclaimed as we walked out of the theatre. Kabir, Sania and Ahmed (of the house party fiasco) had joined us as well.

  ‘What special effects!’ chimed in Sania.

  It truly had been a spectacular visual treat. But unbeknownst to anyone, somewhere in the middle of it, I had fallen into deep sleep.

  ‘Oh yes!’ I jumped in as well. ‘A very moving story.’ Everyone turned around to look at me, and Abhi caught my face and planted a big fat kiss on my lips. ‘My sleeping beauty! That film did not have anything in the vicinity of a story. Just special effects.’

  ‘Fine. So I slept a little. Big deal. I saw most of it,’ I said, laughing a little myself.

  ‘So what next?’ asked Kabir. Then he caught Sania’s eye.

  Turning to me sheepishly, he said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize you must be tired. Let’s go home.’

  Something in me snapped and I put my arms resolutely on my hips.

  ‘You know what! That’s it. We are doing something. I’m tired of doing the same boring dinners and movies and house parties. And I’m tired of that “Oh now we can’t do anything fun because the cow is tired” look.’

  ‘But I never once called you a cow!’ Kabir spluttered, but shut up the second my smouldering look rested on him.

  ‘Hormones,’ I heard Abhi whispering to Kabir.

  ‘I heard that!’ I announced, shifting my glare to Abhi.

  ‘T, it’s not just about you being pregnant and tired, tomorrow is a working day,’ Abhi tried to reason.

  ‘I said we will do something FUN and I meant it!’ I continued like a woman possessed. ‘I will make sure we have FUN tonight, even if that is the last thing I ever do.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ said Sania, hugging Kabir.

  ‘Okay baby,’ said Abhi, and I gave him a bright smile.

  ‘That’s awesome! I know! I know! We should go for chai to Madh Island.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind, T? It’s eleven-thirty at night!’ screeched Ahmed.

  ‘Stop acting like a ninety-year-old. C’mon,’ I challenged him.

  ‘No way!’ Sania joined in.

  ‘Please don’t be like this, T. Let’s go for a quick bite somewhere because Madh Island is out of the question!’ Abhi announced with finality.

  On a Mission. 21 June. 12:30 a.m.

  An hour later I was sitting in the front seat, beaming, as the car weaved its way towards Madh Island. Three sulky and sleepy faces looked on from the backseat. Abhi as usual was trying to keep me in good spirits by hiding the irritation he clearly felt.

  ‘Oh c’mon, people! This is just like old times. Sudden plan, sudden drive! This is how we do it, RJ!’ I said, patting my stomach.

  ‘Sudden? You threatened all of us,’ muttered Ahmed.

  I made a face at him and for a while, everyone was quiet. Then suddenly Abhi croaked in his deep tuneless voice.

  ‘I got a feeling …’ I looked at him, stunned. I had never been successful in coaxing him to even sing two words for me and here he was, singing the song that had been our wedding anthem of sorts, in front of our friends.

  ‘Woooohoooo … that tonight’s gonna be a good night,’ joined in Kabir in his even more tuneless voice.

  ‘… that tonight’s gonna be a good night!’ clapped Sania.

  ‘… that tonight’s gonna be a good good night!’ I screamed at the top of my lungs and softly drummed my stomach, feeling free, happy and restored, like nothing in the world could stop me!

  38

  Dham Dhaam. 26 June. 9:30 a.m.

  As it turned out, when you are five months pregnant, many things can hamper your plans. Namely, a hundred bathroom stops, motion sickness, general nausea, acidity, tiredness; and that is just scratching the surface, as four other people painfully discovered along with me on our disastrous drive to Madh Island.

  When we finally did reach the island at around 1:30 a.m., the only ones remaining were some puzzled sea gulls. All the chaiwaalas had gone home. But I wouldn’t accept defeat that easily. We drove on and finally found one tea vendor willing to make us hot cups of tea. I secretly thanked God for saving me from getting beaten up by four weary co-passengers.

  I was so tired and messed-up the next morning that I had decided to work from home. An extremely sleepy Abhi was putting on his jacket as I moped around.

  ‘I’m very sorry, baby,’ I said, feeling genuinely stupid. ‘I don’t know why but I just felt like I wanted to do something impulsive right then or I would explode. I shouldn’t have dragged all of you with me.’

  ‘No big deal, T. We can all catch up on sleep. In a way it was fun … well, for the first half an hour at least.’ He tried to smile but it turned into a gigantic yawn.

  ‘Poor baby. You look so sleepy. Why the jacket though?’ I asked.

  ‘Told you, there is a new business pitch today. That chocolate brand, Ambrosia?’

  ‘Of course! Now I feel even worse. How on earth will you keep awake?’ I moaned.

  Abhi pushed me by my shoulders so I had to lie down. Then he sat next to me and held my hands.

  ‘What fun would pregnancy be if you were in control and well behaved all the time? I would be quite disappointed,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Well then, I promise to make this pregnancy a lot of fun for you. You can’t say you didn’t ask for trouble.’ I looked at him playfully.

  My phone started ringing right then.<
br />
  With an ‘okay, gotta go’ and a kiss on my forehead, Abhi was out the door. I picked up the phone to see who was calling. It was Nakul.

  ‘Boss, where are you? Mr Vohra is throwing a fit! The Yummiez clients are here. The CEO as well!’

  Oh man! I had completely forgotten about this meeting. As I scrambled to put on some clothes, I wondered how long it would take my newfound absent-mindedness to get me fired.

  Richard & Davis Advertising Agency. 5:00 p.m.

  Sania walked into my cabin while I checked the hundredth post on the FirstCrib group.

  ‘What you doing, preggers?’ She sat down smiling.

  ‘What are you doing, woman-in-love-who-looks-like-she-just-had-sex?’ I shot back.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Her jaw dropped. ‘How? I mean … but … what the fuck! How in the world could you know that?’

  ‘Hey, I was just kidding. I didn’t know it was true! In office? Sania!’

  ‘Well, if you must know, he was passing by and came to drop off my favourite cheesecake from Moshe’s. One thing led to another and we walked to the parking lot where my car was, and … f####, it was insane!’

  ‘Firstly, language! And secondly, in the car?’ I asked incredulously. ‘You horny people! But those darn security cameras?’

  ‘We were nowhere near those,’ she thankfully confirmed.

  ‘Now why would you gloat about your sexual adventures in front of a sex-starved pregnant woman?’ I added with a long theatrical moan.

  ‘Oh please! Your constant boom-booming is what landed you like in this state. So no sympathies. I’m just catching up,’ she reminded me, giggling.

  My phone beeped. I picked it up. It was an alert for the prenatal class I had signed up for. I looked at Sania and had a brainwave.

  ‘Hey. Are you done for the day?’ I asked her innocently.

  ‘Yes!’ she said cheerfully. ‘Why?’

  ‘Come with me for my prenatal class.’

  ‘I completely forgot about this one meeting I need to finish off. I’ll call you in the eveni…’

  ‘Sit down right now, Sania. I know you don’t have any meeting. You’ll really deny a poor pregnant woman?’ I batted my eyelashes.

  With a growl Sania went to get her bag.

  Breathe Institute, Linking Road. 7:30 p.m.

  ‘This place is what you get when a yoga guru has a love child with a filthy rich industrialist,’ opined Sania, while we waited in the lobby. It was a swanky, beautifully designed oasis of calm. They had split up workout areas into various temperature-controlled zones, depending on the workout involved. Each of these had a theme. Soon, a pretty little thing in a tight blue dress descended upon us with a big smile.

  ‘Welcome to…’ she took a deep breath, paused and exhaled, ‘…The Breathe Institute,’ she finished theatrically as we watched, completely entertained.

  ‘Your search for peace of body and mind ends here. We bring to you a state-of-the-art gym, four temperature-controlled swimming pools and Jacuzzis, a world-class spa and fifteen themed and temperature-controlled workout areas.’

  ‘I think I’m at the wrong place. I thought this was a prenatal class.’

  ‘Of course, we have your class ready and set to go. But who says work and play cannot co-exist!’

  ‘Have a lot of fun and spend a lot of money and maybe as an afterthought, attend one class is what they mean,’ said Sania as we followed the girl to my class.

  Of course, all the women seemed to have just walked off the ramp in Milan and accidentally gotten pregnant on the way. Sania and I, who smugly considered ourselves trendsetters of everyday fashionwear, looked like bag ladies in contrast.

  ‘Dude, we look like we are sporting the spring–summer collection for the homeless. Why are these women so decked up for a yoga class?’ Sania asked, stunned.

  ‘Who cares. What is clear, though, is that I need a new wardrobe to attend this class!’

  ‘You’re forgetting breastfeeding and parenting class,’ she corrected me as I rolled my eyes.

  8:30 p.m.

  ‘I know so much about postnatal sex and nipples now that I could write a book!’ complained Sania

  ‘You’ll thank me later,’ I reassured her.

  Suddenly a hot guy walked up to us and spoke politely. ‘Your first complimentary package of one normal plus one pregnancy foot massage is ready, ladies,’ he said, gesturing towards a room.

  We extended our arms like Frankenstein and followed his muscular frame. Before the lights dimmed in Massage Zone Eight, I whispered to Sania, ‘I’m so deprived, even a massage from a hot guy will do!’

  39

  Dham Dhaam. 3 July. 9:00 a.m.

  ‘How’s my beti doing? And how’s my granddaughter doing?’ Dad had called bright and early.

  ‘Dad! How do you know it’s a girl already?’

  ‘Because I just know. I knew when you were in your mother’s tummy and I knew when Mira was in there. What can I say. I just have a knack!’ He laughed.

  ‘That’s great then. Don’t let people know about your special gift or you will be locked away for being a human sex-detection machine!’

  ‘Acha, beta. I wanted to chat with you about Mira.’

  ‘Mira?’ I asked, worried. ‘Why? Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine. Your mother is a little concerned.’

  ‘Oho Papa. Not you as well! So what if she is making a living off cows? Aren’t cows supposed to be sacred in this country? She isn’t delivering milk in canisters from a bicycle. It is purely a…’

  ‘Calm down, beta,’ Dad cut in. ‘What I wanted to discuss was Mira’s marriage.’

  ‘Mira’s marriage!’ I sat up, dropping the egg roll I was munching on.

  ‘Yes, well, she never talks about it and I am the last one to force her into anything, but she is twenty-nine years old, you know. Call us old school but there is a time in life for everything. It would be good for her if she settled down. Plus, one less thing to annoy your mother.’

  ‘But you know how she feels about marriage, right Dad?’

  ‘Yes!’ he replied cheerfully. ‘And that’s where you come in.’

  My mind was racing. So what if I didn’t like Johnny Yogi? Mira did. I had to help her before he was moved out of the house like yesterday’s garbage.

  ‘And have you thought of who she should marry or were the origins of this suggestion just a casual conversation over chai pakora with Sexyna Auntie?’

  ‘Hi beta!’ chimed in a nasal voice. ‘I unfortunately did not even get one pakora. Just a small cup of tea.’

  ‘Saxena Auntie is there?’ I hissed at Dad. ‘Why am I on speaker?’

  ‘Namaste Auntie!’ I then shouted out, remembering my manners. I had a lot of questions regarding her presence in the house and in this private conversation, but I reigned them in.

  ‘Sorry, beta,’ Dad mumbled apologetically. ‘Anyway, so we have a boy in mind. Mr Dayal’s eldest son, Ritwick. Mira used to play with him as a child, remember?’

  This kind of reminiscing never made sense to me, where introductions were always married to extremely dim memories or actions related to the person. Our childhood had been filled with ‘Look, do you remember Mehta uncle? He used to look like Amitabh Bachchan when you were very young’ or ‘Do namaste. Rinki Auntie once made cake for you when you were two!’

  ‘Of course I remember Ritwick, Dad. He used to eat his boogers and store them in a box.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure he doesn’t do that any more, beta,’ Dad explained, coming to Ritwick’s rescue. ‘Very handsome fellow, earns well, very qualified. He has shifted to Mumbai from New York.’

  Sexyna Auntie chimed in unceremoniously. ‘Beta, even my Nisha had small raisins for breasts when she was young, much smaller than girls her age. I used to wonder what would happen, how she would marry. And see her now. Fully grown and beautiful. Married off to a handsome boy in New York as well.’ This irrelevant information was followed by a confused silence all
around.

  Ignoring the comment, I decided it was now or never.

  ‘Dad, what if she likes someone else?’ I ventured cautiously.

  I heard Mom grunting as she took the phone. ‘Hi. Little one okay? You haven’t sent us the scan of the hand from your last appointment yet.’

  ‘Mumma, don’t change the topic. Why the sudden interest in getting Mira married off? Would this have anything to do with Raool…’

  ‘Beta, you know it. He is a bloody fool! Spoilt, bewakoof, gadha.’

  ‘Mom! He honestly isn’t all that bad.’

  ‘Alright. Name one positive thing.’

  ‘Ummm. He has a good heart?’ I said, struggling to recall what Mira had said in his defence.

  ‘I can’t see his heart and I can’t talk to it. All I can see is a silly boy with no sense or stability. Mira is just infatuated. She needs to see what else is in the market.’

  ‘Veena, it sounds like you’re talking about vegetables,’ quipped Sexyna Auntie with bad timing and guffawed loudly, inviting Mom’s ire.

  ‘Oho. Shush,’ Mom admonished her friend.

  ‘Mom, relax. Why are you even thinking that this will end in marriage? Raool is currently just a friend.’

  ‘Tara, you know where this is going.’

  ‘You can’t just force her to marry the nose-picker!’

  ‘That’s where you come in.’

  This popular theme for the evening was unnerving me already.

  40

  Dham Dhaam. 6 July. 9:00 a.m.

  I was looking at my cereal bowl and crying. There was nothing particularly treacherous about the bowl, and the cereal and milk looked pretty harmless as well, so it had to be my hormones. I shifted my gaze to the insipid-looking gobhi-aaloo sabzi that Radha had prepared. The sight of it made me cry as well.

  Abhi walked in from the room and froze in the midst of cuffing his shirtsleeves. He was by my side in a second. ‘What is it, baby?’

  Radha slithered out from the kitchen and looked at Abhi guiltily.

  ‘Dada, all I said to her was that it was going to be a boy because her stomach was getting so big and hanging to the left,’ she confessed.

  Abhi gave her a strange look. ‘And how else can we know for sure?’

 

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