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

by Richa S Mukherjee

  ‘Umm. So what is it that you can do?’

  ‘Handle the baby, of course.’ (With a haughty look)

  3:15 p.m.

  Candidate 2: Mili

  ‘Hello medem.’

  ‘Hello Mili. Where have you worked before this?’

  ‘A lot of work before this. With baby.’

  ‘Which baby? Where?’

  ‘Small baby. I do everything.’

  ‘But how many houses have you worked at before this?’

  ‘One house, medem. With baby Ashok. But I am very good, medem.’

  ‘Sure, but why did you stop working there?’

  ‘I did not, medem.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Medem, Ashok at home with my mother-in-law.’

  ‘Mili, is Ashok your son?’

  ‘Yes, medem.’

  ‘Bye Mili.’

  4:30 p.m.

  Candidate 3: Laxmi

  ‘Hello ma’am. Ma’am, I am Laxmi. I have worked with eleven babies till now.’

  ‘That’s great!’

  ‘I can do everything for baby. I even sing. I can help around the house as well.’

  ‘Amazing!’

  ‘I can even do baby massage and your massage also.’

  ‘Perfect. So maybe I can get you to come in once or twice before my due date to get familiar with the house?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. All of us are ready to come whenever you want.’

  ‘All of you?’

  ‘My husband, daughter and son.’

  ‘But … how … bye, Laxmi!’

  I held my head and asked Abhi for a cup of tea. It was going to be a long day.

  54

  Richard & David Advertising Agency. 4 September. 5:00 p.m.

  Yummiez had recently sent us their next campaign brief and my team was having an initial discussion. But after two hours of brainstorming, I was done. Especially now that I had additional instructions from Dr Peerbhoy that I needed to follow through the day. Every few hours, I had to count the number of times the baby was kicking. That’s like asking someone juggling five balls to take copious notes in a lecture. Abhi always noticed the moment I started counting, while to most others I was sure I merely looked constipated.

  ‘I’m going to take a walk,’ I announced, as a familiar ache started in my legs.

  ‘I’m coming as well,’ Sania said, raising her hand like she was asking some invisible teacher-in-charge for permission. I was hoping for some closing ideas upon my return but suddenly, everyone wanted to either take a loo break or a smoke break. I just shrugged my approval, too tired to contest.

  We decided to stroll in the green patch right behind the office building. Sania looked lost in thought and, for once, was not furiously typing away on her phone or lambasting someone who had called about some wedding work gone wrong, which was all I had seen her do the last few weeks.

  ‘I’ve coordinated with Masterjee for your lehenga pick-up and the fortune cookie guy has received the handwritten fortunes of all the poor unsuspecting guests,’ I told her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she muttered.

  ‘Okay. Talk to me.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I know that expression. What’s wrong?’

  She smiled. ‘He is such a great guy. And there is no problem at all. Then why do I still feel that something is holding me back?’

  ‘There is a very simple term for it – self-destructive behaviour.’ I took her hands. ‘I know you, Sania. I’ve seen this before. But you don’t need to run away from him. Trust me. Just listen to your heart.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She shook her head. Then she stared at me. ‘Did you just burp?’

  ‘Of course I did. My insides are permanently on fire these days. Well, don’t just stand there. Get to work and bring me some Gelusil. There is no such thing as free advice!’

  8:30 p.m.

  Abhi called to check on me as I was staying late in office. This was an attempt to avoid traffic, this being one of the immersion days of the ongoing Ganapati festival.

  ‘Trust me. You’re better off stuck there comfortably than on the roads. I’m stuck as well. Stay put for an hour,’ he advised me. ‘Keep Deendayal with you.’

  After finishing my snack, I was on my way to the washroom when I heard raised voices. Always one to let my inquisitiveness get the better of me, I walked towards the source. I stopped in my tracks when I passed by Ms Venu’s office. Vohra was towering in front of her, looking livid. She was standing with her head down like an errant child, looking like she was about to sob.

  ‘You seem to have lost your focus of late. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s affecting your work. You didn’t even send me those numbers I had asked for,’ he thundered.

  ‘I was about to. I was just waiting for some data,’ came a feeble protest in an even more feeble voice.

  ‘Excuses! And on top of that you’ve laid out a picnic here, like I’ve come for dinner!’

  ‘I just thought you might be hungry, and it’s late, so…’

  ‘If only you were thinking! And why have you started dressing in such a strange manner?’ Now he was going too far. Didn’t this lovelorn fool Ms Venu have any spine? She needed to give it back to him.

  ‘What kind of an example are you setting?’ Vohra pressed on, and finally, Ms Venu burst into tears. It was a pitiful sound, like a cross between braying and bleating. That was it! I barged into the cabin. Ms Venu stopped sobbing and Mr Vohra looked irritated.

  ‘This might not be any of my business,’ I started. ‘Actually, I’m sure it isn’t, but I have to speak up or I’ll burst and my child won’t appreciate that! Mr Vohra, are you blind? Is there a single speck of compassion or a small trace of a heart left in you? This amazing woman, who has reduced herself to this,’ I said, waving my hand towards her, ‘has been in love with you for a while now!’

  Vohra looked like he had swallowed a fly.

  ‘She has been dressing in this … uncharacteristic way for you, hoping to get your attention. She has hinted at her love for you in many ways, all of which you’ve been too thick-skinned to notice. You should thank your stars that a woman like her can love you so. Despite your temper, your behaviour, your manners, your split personality! Oh, and that wig of yours!’

  ‘You don’t like my wig?’ was all Vohra could manage.

  ‘And you,’ I said, turning to Ms Venu. ‘Don’t you have any self-respect? Love is truly life-changing, but if unrequited, it stinks. Like a garbage can that hasn’t been emptied out for several days. You’ve tried and tried for days to wear clothes that don’t suit you in the least, just for his attention. Can’t you see that he isn’t interested? Now get a spine and move on!’

  And with that, I spun around on my flat shoes and waddled away as fast as my aching legs could carry me. As I distanced myself from what I had just done, I realized I might just be out of a job the following day.

  ‘Medem, visarjan traffic is bad. Don’t leave right now,’ cautioned the watchman.

  I felt like telling him that if I didn’t quickly do a self-visarjan out of the office right then, I would be chased out with a stick, facing music of a different kind altogether!

  55

  Dham Dhaam. 6 September. 9:00 a.m.

  ‘Have there been any conversations ever since?’ Abhi asked as I sat sulking during breakfast. My unsolicited advisory session at work was still plaguing me.

  ‘It’s strange. I am avoiding him anyway, but he seems to be doing the same, as if he is the one who had shot his mouth off. I could have sworn I saw him ducking behind the coffee machine as I approached it yesterday.’

  ‘Maybe he just wants to avoid the unpleasantness?’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like him. He thrives on aggression and confrontation. Well, at least a part of him does.’

  ‘What about Ms Venu?’

  ‘That’s what makes me feel worse. She hasn’t shown up to work.’

  Abhi put his hand on mine. ‘Darling, I know most of the
times your intentions are correct, but you just have to keep your long nose out of other people’s business.’

  ‘True,’ I admitted meekly. ‘Will I get fired?’

  ‘Look at it this way – if you do, then you will have some extra downtime before RJ comes along!’

  ‘Hmmm…’ I played with my poha, hoping I’d find a way out of this mess under one of those turmeric-laden flakes.

  ‘I can’t think of any excuse to hide behind today. The pitch is only a few days away. There is no way to escape him.’

  ‘Then don’t. Besides, it’s very hard to fire a pregnant woman. It’s like firing two people at once!’ Abhi guffawed.

  ‘Funny,’ I said, arching an eyebrow. ‘C’mon RJ.’ I patted my stomach. ‘Save Mumma’s job today.’

  Richard & David Advertising Agency. 8 September. 11:00 a.m.

  I couldn’t decide what was more ridiculous – a pregnant woman scurrying around the office trying to hide from a fifty-five-year-old man or a fifty-five-year-old man playing hide-and-seek in turn.

  ‘I don’t get it. I was the one who opened my big mouth. Why is he avoiding me? I thought he would be pissed off!’ I was on the phone with Sania, who had handed over the pitch work and flown off with Kabir, Abhi and both families a day earlier to Goa for the final preparations.

  ‘That looks perfect. Can you try a slightly lighter shade, though?’ Indistinct mumbling.

  ‘Sania!’

  ‘Oh sorry. I’m with the make-up guy. Make-up trial.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Tomorrow’s your big day and here I am, babbling away about my trivial issues!’

  ‘No problem, T. All I want to know is that you’re doing everything in your power to make it here on time tomorrow.’

  ‘Absolutely everything. Which reminds me, where are the pitch creatives with the changes incorporated? The team was trying to get in touch.’

  ‘I’ll message you the path on my shared drive.’

  ‘Great. And Sania, everything’s great, right? Are you excited?’

  ‘Well, my mom-in-law wants me to stick some bird’s nest in my hair for the pheras, but otherwise all okay.’

  ‘Sania, I’m serious,’ I persisted.

  ‘Sure, everything’s fine. I’m super excited! Just get here soon.’ And with that, she hung up.

  2:30 p.m.

  ‘Abhi, where is the doctor’s letter permitting me to travel?’

  ‘I’ve made a folder for you. It’s on your bedside table. It has your tickets, the letter, numbers and details of the hotel if for any reason you can’t get through to me, and the details of the chauffeur who will pick you up at the airport.’

  ‘Wow! That is your new gold standard for being thorough.’

  ‘I just don’t feel right letting you travel alone when you are in this condition.’

  ‘Darling, I am not travelling with a fractured spine. I’m just pregnant. I promise if there is any problem I will call you. How is it going over there?’

  ‘So far so good. Of course, there are some traditional ornaments Auntie wants in Sania’s hair during the pheras that Sania has refused to wear, so there has been a lot of debate over that. Kabir and Sania have fought about it too. She’s also refused to wear a mangalsutra during the ceremony, saying she didn’t want a c###a dog tag. I think that one made Auntie faint for a few seconds.’

  ‘Oh God! Sania!’

  ‘And the DJ hasn’t turned up, so we are searching for a local replacement.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘It might just rain tomorrow so we are trying to cover up the outside area with a shamiana.’

  ‘That is your definition of so far, so good?’ I asked, dumbfounded.

  ‘Yes, baby! Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Go finish prepping for that pitch, get some rest and get both my babies to me safe and sound!’

  4:30 p.m.

  I was trying desperately to finish the pitch deck when I was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  ‘Come in!’ I yelled.

  My current nightmare appeared in front of my eyes – the dreaded Ms Venu and Mr Vohra.

  Their expressions were inscrutable but they strode purposefully towards me and stopped right in front of my desk. For a second I even contemplated making a run for it. Mr Vohra leaned in and planted his hands on the table as Ms Venu, looking very uncomfortable, tried desperately to hide behind a large stack of papers.

  ‘Tara,’ started Mr Vohra. ‘You were correct.’

  ‘I was?’ What did he even mean?

  ‘Yes. That it was none, mind you, none of your business to barge in on us the other day.’

  Damn. Even my pregnancy couldn’t save me from this one.

  ‘You are too free with your opinions and you have no boundaries. You hardly ever listen to me and you are very opinionated,’ he went on.

  Wait a minute. He was now openly attacking me for one overenthusiastic outburst.

  ‘Now, Mr Vohra…’ I tried.

  ‘I’m not finished.’

  I scowled and crossed my arms defiantly.

  ‘Mr Vohra, you’re being a bit…’ Ms Venu interrupted but a stern glance from Vohra silenced her.

  ‘You can never ever mind your own business. And for that very reason, I thank you from the bottom of my heart!’ he finished.

  For a few seconds, I was literally speechless. ‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ I finally managed.

  Ms Venu smiled shyly. ‘After you left, and after the initial shock of what had happened, we started talking.’ Then she looked embarrassed. ‘I won’t get into the details, but we have decided to try and be more than friends.’

  For some odd reason, my mind started playing the Maine Pyar Kiya dialogue – ‘Prem babu, ek ladka aur ek ladki kabhi dost nahi ho sakte’ and I had to suppress a chuckle.

  Vohra smiled expectantly, possibly hoping for a standing ovation for his misleading performance. This person standing in front of me was a confusing blend of both his personas.

  ‘Got you, didn’t I?’ He chuckled and then sobered up. ‘Something that you said left me shaken, and made me realise how self-absorbed I had become, not being able to see what was right in front of me. I guess I’ve been lonely for so long that it’s become a part of who I am.’

  He smiled so sweetly at Ms Venu that I mentally aww-ed. ‘We don’t know where this will go, but thanks for helping me realize that there is more to life than work,’ Mr Vohra said.

  A sweet, expressive and charming Mr Vohra? This was certainly a changed man. Ms Venu kissed me on the cheek. ‘God bless you, child.’ And with that they were gone. I had the widest grin on my face for the longest time.

  After wrapping up work, I called Abhi from the car. ‘Abhi, you keep telling me to stop my interfering but that is what has brought two people together!’

  ‘What!? Vohra and Silk Smita?’

  ‘Hey-hey. Be nice. She might just be the future Mrs Vohra!’

  ‘Well,’ Abhi said, laughing. ‘I stand corrected, love. Yell away!’

  With a smile on my face, I rested my head against the window and watched the street lights dance. I patted my tummy. ‘Yes baby, this is mama aka Mrs Fix-it. You don’t stand a chance tomorrow, Mr Pitch. Bring it on!’

  56

  Pharmakind Head Office. 9 September. 4:00 p.m.

  I had finished presenting. Now all I could do was sit and wait, and hope that things would wrap up fast. If I didn’t leave in another half an hour, I would not be able to make it for my flight.

  4:20 p.m.

  Questions were being thrown around but all I could hear was the loud ticking of the clock. Finally, just when I was about to scream with frustration, it was over! I stood up to deliver the final closing statement.

  By the time I managed to get into the car, it was already 4:40 p.m. I saw several missed calls from Abhi and a few from Sania, one from Mom and one from my mother-in-law. They had both called at the same time. That was a bit strange. I first called back Abhi.

  ‘Please
tell me you’re reaching the airport?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘I can tell you I’ve left for it,’ I said guiltily.

  ‘Oh no! That doesn’t leave you with much time at all. You have to be at the airport in forty-five minutes.’ He paused. ‘But please don’t stress or run or do anything to speed things up. Get to the airport and then we will take stock of the situation. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Please keep giving me updates. I just want you to get here safely.’

  I quickly decided to check in on Sania.

  ‘Hey!’ I shrieked. ‘And so it begins. Who’s getting married?’

  ‘Me me me me me me me me! Hic!’

  ‘Sania? Are you drunk already?’

  ‘Shh! Don’t tell Dad. And don’t tell my mom-in-law. Kabir I can handle by offering sex. Haha!’

  ‘You’re a madwoman! Okay, no more now. Keep some capacity for later so you can enjoy your own sangeet.’

  ‘Aye-aye, captain. Hehehehe.’

  ‘Bye!’

  5:45 p.m.

  Of course, I would have a pitch on the day I had to travel for the wedding. And of course this would coincide with the last day of the Ganapati Visarjan.

  I was barely ten minutes from the airport, but only processions were being allowed to proceed while all other vehicles were stationary. Another twenty-five minutes like this and I could kiss at least the sangeet goodbye. One big kick came from inside and that’s all the prodding I needed.

  ‘Deendayal, I’m getting off here.’

  ‘Hain? Bhabhiji, you will get off here and go where?’

  ‘To the airport, of course.’

  ‘But you will never be able to make your way around the crowds. Please wait here. You’re pregnant. Don’t be so adventurous.’

  ‘I agree,’ said a deep voice from the window. I turned my head to see a smiling hijra whom I hadn’t noticed before leaning in.

  ‘Well I thank you, and you,’ I said, planting some money in the hands of the concerned hijra. ‘But I have a flight to catch and there is only one way I will get close to the airport.’

  As they watched in bewilderment, I walked alongside a truck carrying a big Ganesh idol, explained my situation to one of the wary participants and was instantly and carefully hoisted onto the back of the truck. Just then Abhi called again.