‘Thanks for kick-starting RJ’s college fund,’ I joked. She looked challengingly at Auntie, who rose solemnly with her battalion of friends. They formed a circle around me and started making the famous Bengali ‘ullu’ sound.
‘Bet this racket will scare the living daylights out of the real owls,’ Sania said, giggling.
‘Stop making me laugh! I need to look coy and well-behaved,’ I hissed at her.
9:30 p.m.
‘You look like Bappi Da’s baby.’ Abhi laughed as he looked at all the gold on me.
‘This is for RJ’s college fund. Be happy. I’ve been having nightmares about being penniless and broke after the baby comes!’
Suddenly Sania announced loudly, standing on a chair, ‘Now for the final chapter. Let the baby shower begin!’
‘This can easily be entered in the Guinness books as the longest baby shower ever!’ Abhi remarked.
11:00 p.m.
‘So much noise!’
‘Kids these days can’t do without all this party and dancing business.’
‘Exactly. Can’t leave tradition alone, can they?’
‘Look at what that girl is wearing. I can see her panty.’
‘Oh, and the other one next to Sania. Is that a top or a bra? My mother would have murdered me if I had stepped out of my room like that.’
‘Mine too. Here try this aloo-dom. It’s very good.’
‘It is. Here. Try this karari bhindi. It’s a specialty.’
Hearing this cute exchange between the two female commandos, I smiled. Even if it was at the expense of the clueless revellers, the ice had been broken. I didn’t know how long this would last, but I didn’t care. I was surrounded by people who had gathered in our home to make happy memories with us. So much time had been spent fretting about this day and the baby’s arrival that I had been oblivious to all the happiness around me. All I wanted to do just then was soak it all in.
51
Healthline Hospital. 16 August. 9:30 a.m.
‘Which room would you like?
The super deluxe theme suite with the sea-facing view?
The deluxe room with one window with sea-facing view?
The executive room with private bathroom?
The standard room with wall view and shared bathroom?’
The last option was announced with a lot of distaste, as if merely mentioning it had vitiated the atmosphere. We were at my hospital-to-be, and a surly nurse was running us through our room options for the delivery. It sounded more like we were sitting in a hotel lobby than a hospital.
‘So what is the theme for the suite?’ I couldn’t help asking.
‘There are three suites, hence three options to choose from. Garden, Yoga or Space.’
‘Space? Like the final frontier?’ I asked, shocked. ‘Who really cares about the room when you have a bawling baby to take care of?’
‘These are meant to relax the mothers. What is so funny?’ the nurse asked with a deadpan expression. Clearly not amused.
Abhi squeezed my arm. ‘T, if you don’t stop cackling at her face, you are going to end up delivering in one of those shared bathrooms.’ I instantly sobered up.
‘So we pay for the registration and book the rooms, right?’ Abhi asked her in an effort to distract her from my jokes.
‘No. I never said that. You register and pay and highlight a room selection. But it’s on first-come first-serve basis. We cannot promise you the room you pick.’
Abhi looked stunned. ‘So we pay a lot of money but that doesn’t guarantee us anything? We can book for staring at the sea but might end up staring at a wall?’
‘Yes,’ she said in a clipped voice.
‘That makes no sense, ma’am,’ Abhi said, irritated. ‘This is just one senseless money-making scheme.’
‘Abhi, if you continue attacking her, I might end up delivering in a bathroom.’ I nudged him urgently. Abhi shot me an annoyed look but simmered down.
‘So what will it be?’ asked the nurse, drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. ‘I have others waiting.’
I looked at the list again. ‘I’ll take the executive room. I think RJ can wait till he becomes an astronaut to be in space!’
Richard & David Advertising Agency. 25 August. 3:30 p.m.
‘That is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a while,’ said Pamela, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Ever since the ice broke, we had become quite chatty and friendly, much to Sania’s territorial irritation. We were having tea in my cabin and I had just told her about Abhi’s surprise in the park on the day of my baby shower. Every time I told her anything about Abhi or me, the floodgates would open. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was still single.
‘That husband of yours is a darling! I wish he wasn’t married to you. I would snap him up in a second.’ She sniffled.
‘Hey, hey, paws off lady! I might be pregnant but I can easily wrestle you to the ground!’ I said, flexing my muscles.
‘Okay! Message received, loud and clear,’ she said and laughed. ‘I’m sure you already show your appreciation in hundreds of ways, but even that wouldn’t be enough!’
As I nodded, I started thinking – when was the last time that I had done something sweet for Abhi?
‘All okay?’ She looked at me with concern; maybe the myriad emotions running through my head had shown up on my face.
‘Sure, all good.’ I forced a smile.
‘By the way,’ she said as she got up, ‘bad date for the pitch, eh? There goes a Saturday again!’
‘The pitch dates are in?’ I asked, surprised. ‘I haven’t got any mail from the pitch coordinator.’
‘It came to Mr Vohra and he forwarded the mail to us.’
I suddenly had a queer feeling in my stomach. ‘What is the date?’
‘9 September.’
I stood up, toppling my teacup. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ I raged. ‘Every-time I travel!’ It was the date of Sania and Kabir’s sangeet function in Goa.
Dham Dhaam. 26 August. 9:30 a.m.
It was a sight to behold. The parents and in-laws were all leaving and my mother and mother-in-law were hugging like they were superglued to each other. Ever since the baby shower, the two arch-enemies had shapeshifted into two giggly schoolgirls. Everyone was left stunned, but no one wanted to jinx the peace. Even Radha, who did not even know how to use her phone much, was desperately trying to locate the camera function to capture this momentous occasion. Not one to exclude herself from the Roy household’s current affairs, Mrs Dham, who usually apparated in the evenings, had made an exception and was peering through her window as well.
‘What do you think did it?’ asked Abhi quizzically while patching in his cuffs, getting ready for work.
‘I really don’t care, you know, as long as they’re hugging this way.’ I had observed the two mothers all morning with a lot of delight and admiration. They both had woken up at 4 a.m. to cook the home delicacies we missed. What was this internal configuration of mothers, I wondered, that kicked them into famine control mode for their children? Would I be this kind of mother? Would I have it in me to chase around and provide for a little person in so many ways? It was an unnerving feeling.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’ My thoughts were interrupted by Abhi’s soft voice.
I gave him an apprehensive look.
‘I don’t think I’m even capable of any of this,’ I confessed. ‘You need a different kind of strength to be a mother. Someone who can…’
‘Carry another human being inside her while carrying on with life despite a million fears?’
‘Well, that’s…’
‘Brave everything that comes with it – career, responsibilities, all of it, with at best only some periodic groans, complaints and negativity?’
‘Oho, I…’
‘Deal with my kinks about lovemaking during pregnancy and yet not run away with another man?’
I smiled. He smiled.
I hugged
him tight. ‘I love you, baby.’ Then I whispered to RJ, ‘Your mother might be nuts but your daddy is more or less fantastic. Hang on to him!’
52
Dham Dhaam. 27 August. 6:00 p.m.
All the options laid out in front of me for the upcoming wedding were proving to be a source of mounting frustration.
‘It’s as if there’s a mutiny in my wardrobe!’ I shouted, throwing a dupatta which landed on Sania’s face. She had dropped in with her usual batch of baked deliciousness, so I was munching on a chocolate frosted cupcake and venting at the same time.
‘You look positively scary with those crumbs falling out of your mouth,’ she observed, watching my mouth with fascination.
I sat down heavily, which was the only style I knew anymore.
‘Why am I even bothering? By the looks of it, I won’t even make it for your sangeet.’
‘T, don’t you dare!’
‘Sania, it wasn’t I who fixed the date for the pitch!’
‘I have put the fear of God into my team that they better finish before I leave for the wedding. Why can’t you threaten your people as well?’
‘You know how many people are involved. And then there’s Vohra. Anyway, don’t worry. Provided I ever find anything to wear, I’ll change at the airport itself, so that I can leave directly for the venue.’
‘You can’t exert yourself like that! You’re in your eighth month, woman. Abhi will come with you, right?’
‘Wrong. He needs to be helping in Goa, not babysitting me. I’ve convinced him to let me travel alone.’
‘Okay, fine. And look, this white-and-gold salwar kameez is great for the sangeet. You’ll just have to alter it a bit. And this red-and-beige saree for the wedding, and ummm, here! This cheery flower dress for the pool party. Sorted!’
‘Okay, enough about my clothes. Is your lehenga ready?’
‘Almost. There is some tradition about the bride’s lehenga being stitched by the boy’s family, so I had to show them my blouse design. I think Auntie is still recovering from the shock. I saw her looking genuinely confused, whispering to Kabir and asking him if this was for the pool party or the wedding. How I controlled my laughter!’
‘Poor Auntie. Just try and rein yourself in a little bit through the wedding. We don’t want to have to call for an ambulance in Goa!’
Richard & Davis Advertising Agency. 30 August. 4:00 p.m.
Flowers! Too cheesy.
Surprise dinner! Done to death.
Gift! Nah.
Weekend away? Really? With five hundred pee stops?
Ever since my last chat with Pamela, I had been driving myself crazy trying to figure out what to do for Abhi. Something small but special. All I was drawing was a blank. Every idea I came up with, Abhi had already executed before for me. I was ready to give up when it finally came to me!
Hill Road. 1 September. 6:30 p.m.
It was all planned. I had wrapped up work early. I would cook him his favourite pasta and a few other sides to munch on. Then I would put on my saucy new negligee and play eye candy. This would be followed by a massage and a movie to relax him.
Now let’s be clear. Saucy negligee and a heavily pregnant woman are certainly not the most common pairing. And on top of that, I was facing a supply issue. The respectable brands would only sell regular designs and sizes online, but I was looking for something super naughty. After digging a little deeper, I landed up at a store on Hill Road, where a helpful young boy directed me to a lane with the ‘right’ shops. I walked in with trepidation, expecting to see seedy men smoking beedis and posters with busty models sporting the latest shocking designs framing the walls.
When I stepped in, I got smoke alright, but from incense sticks. Two men with large bellies and bored expressions sat dozing in their chairs. There was a smell of chai in the air and empty cups were strewn about everywhere. A man behind the main counter was on the phone, bargaining with someone. I looked expectantly in his direction. He saw me and paused his conversation, giving me a slight once-over, and then beckoned to one of the fat men to attend to me.
‘Bhaisaab, koi female salesperson hai kya?’ I asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
‘Na, madamji. Only us. Worry not. We know all style. You tell.’
‘Umm, show me negligees please,’ I said nervously.
‘For your shishter?’
‘No.’
‘For friend?’
‘No. For me.’
He gulped but quickly recovered and proceeded to pull out negligees from the shelves behind him.
‘No, not these. Too long. Something shorter?’
‘Honeymoon nightie?’
‘Maybe,’ I replied helpfully. He then showed me photographs of several themes and costumes, all of which made my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
‘Madam, import quality. Best material. I guarantee. You come again, I promise.’ Then he looked embarrassed. ‘I mean, after baby.’
‘Madam, size XXL chalega?’ he asked after a pause.
Now all eyes were fixed on me, as I was clearly the only customer. I think they were all thinking, ‘Poor pregnant woman’s lost her marbles.’ I fumbled around, having had enough of semi-naked women, picked up a bunch of fabric held together by some hanging threads, and waddled away after making a quick payment.
10:00 p.m.
I had barely managed to fit myself into my newly acquired negligee. A glance in the mirror showed me that the final effect invoked the idea of abundance rather than desire, but I was undeterred. The food was ready, the movie was on standby, the candle smoke was making me dizzy. I just wanted Abhi to arrive quickly and was about to check if there were any messages from him when the doorbell rang.
Showtime, baby! My heart was beating excitedly as I heard Abhi fumble in his pocket for the keys. But then, oddly enough, I heard some more muffled voices behind the door. Who was he speaking to? Mrs Dham? Before my fight-or-flight settings could be calibrated, the door opened and I found myself staring at Mr Mehta, Abhi’s finance head, a stunned Abhi and two other male colleagues, who were desperately trying to look away. I remembered Punvasiya from one of Mom’s Diwali stories, who after being ill-treated and starved by her sister, had asked the earth to open up and swallow her. I felt like making a similar request to Mother Earth to save me from this mortification.
11:30 p.m.
‘T, what in the world was that!’ asked a shocked Abhi as soon as the door shut behind our guests, who were probably still in shock.
‘I just wanted to surprise you by doing something sweet. I felt like I’d been ignoring you.’ I sighed loudly, holding my head. ‘But why couldn’t you tell me they were coming?’
‘I did. Read your messages!’
I checked my phone and my shoulders drooped. ‘They’re there alright. I was so busy that I forgot to check my messages.’
‘And why didn’t you cover up after we entered?’ asked Abhi, looking at me quizzically. ‘I think your left boob actually dipped into Mr Mehta’s plate when you were serving him pasta.’
‘Well, I thought that acting nonchalant would just help tide over the embarrassment,’ I said, pouting. ‘Thank God they didn’t stay for dessert.’
Abhi and I looked at each other for a few seconds and then he burst out laughing, and hugged me.
‘Sweetie, how do you manage to get yourself in these situations?’
I smiled for the first time. ‘I have no clue. But what’s so funny?’
‘T, my senior colleagues just saw my beautiful pregnant wife in her birthday suit – well, almost. I need to have a sense of humour about this, don’t I?’
‘I’m really sorry for dipping my boob in Mr Mehta’s bowl.’
‘And I’m really sorry this evening didn’t work out the way you wanted it to. But thank you so much for making the effort,’ he said, planting a kiss on my head. ‘And now that we’re alone…’
53
Dham Dhaam. 3 September. 10:30 a.m.
‘How are you fee
ling, beta?’ It was Mom’s usual morning call.
‘I’m fine,’ I whispered.
‘Why are you speaking so softly?’ Mom whispered back.
‘Because Radha and Razia are talking about this very interesting story involving a cheating husband and a ghost called Shagun, and I want to hear the rest of it.’
‘Beta, in the story, is Shagun haunting Ishita?’
‘Yes!’
‘And is she married to Rahul?’
‘Yes, but … how …’
‘I’m telling you, even before becoming a ghost, that woman Shagun was pure evil. Even your father is convinced of this.’
It suddenly dawned on me. ‘Mom, is this some soap on TV?’
‘What soap? It is a very nice serial on TV.’
I shouted, irritated, ‘What is wrong with all of you! Talking about these characters as if they are related to us and living next door. Gee!’
Dad excitedly chimed in. ‘Beta, there’s another wonderful new show called Naagin Hoon Mein.’
‘Okay, I think I’ve already heard enough about Shagun the bhootni. Naagin will be way too much. By the way, today we are interviewing jaapas for the baby!’
‘Kyaapas?’ Mom asked.
‘Jaapas! Basically, expert baby-handlers to help me through the first few months,’ I explained.
‘But I can help you with that! Why are you wasting money?’ said Mom.
‘Trust me, we will need one. I don’t want you guys falling sick helping me with RJ.’
‘Oh wait. I know what this is,’ explained Dad. ‘Veena, even Trisha was talking about these jaapas. She has hired one for little Bhoomi.’
‘Wait, who is Trisha?’
‘There is this serial called …’
‘Daaaaaaaad!’ I yelled.
2:45 p.m.
Candidate 1: Usha.
‘Hi Usha.’
‘Namaste madam.’
‘Have you handled babies before?’
‘Twenty-five babies.’ (With a haughty look)
‘What all do you normally do for the baby?’
‘I will do everything. But I will not wash the nappies. I will not feed the baby at night because if I wake up at night, I get headaches. I will not walk the baby. I have knee problems.’
I Didn't Expect to be Expecting (Ravinder Singh Presents) Page 17