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

by Richa S Mukherjee

Boredom was setting in as the DTH signal also got disrupted by the rain. Of course! I hadn’t done any exercise for two days, so I decided to limber up. I breathed deep and started the slow asanas one by one, being very careful not to exert too much pressure on my stomach. As I came to my modified utkatsasana, I contemplated for a flash of a second whether to squat. And then I moved down.

  ‘Here we go, baby. Mama is squatting. Stay in.’

  As if on cue, I felt a strong kick inside my belly and then mid-squat, another unannounced shower opened up under me. For a minute, I was too stunned to realize what was happening. Then, with trembling hands, I dialled Abhi and announced very calmly, ‘My water just broke.’

  Damn you, chair pose!

  67

  Dham Dhaam. 27 October. 12:05 p.m.

  There was a loud crashing sound.

  ‘Abhi!’ I screamed. No response. ‘Abhi!’ I shouted again.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘You don’t sound like Abhi.’

  ‘That’s because I am Varun, Abhi’s client. Abhi just fell off his chair and his phone landed on me. I’ll hand the phone back to him in a second.’

  After some sounds of shuffling, Abhi came back on the line. ‘Baby, are you okay?’

  ‘Well, I’m not the one falling off any chairs here, so … but I’m wet and RJ is coming. How can this be happening now? It’s not time yet. I wanted to relax and read and watch movies and walk and do nothing. How can this be happening now? How?’

  With me launching into histrionics, Abhi was calm again.

  ‘Darling, don’t start this on a regretful note. I’m really sorry you didn’t get to do all that, but this is what we have been waiting for, remember? Maybe a bit early but RJ’s coming. I can’t believe it’s finally happening!’ Abhi laughed excitedly.

  I allowed myself a smile.

  ‘I’m going to get the first flight out,’ he continued. ‘Just don’t worry. How bad is the storm situation there?’

  ‘Pretty bad. Even Sania couldn’t make it over.’

  ‘Oh no. Anyway, I’ll figure out something. You just …’

  ‘Hello? Hello?’

  12:10 p.m.

  I called up Dr Peerbhoy’s clinic. Of course she was busy, so I was connected to the assistant doctor. I updated her. She sounded like I had just told her the price of cucumbers and not about my water having broken.

  ‘That’s great. So just have a nice long bath.’

  ‘I will. What then?’

  ‘Oh, and shampoo your hair. You must. And shave your legs if you can manage to.’

  Now I felt like I had called the neighbourhood beauty salon instead of the gynaecologist.

  ‘Why are you giving me grooming tips?’

  ‘You’ll thank me later. The pain won’t start for a while. And a lot of people will come and see you. They’ll take pictures. You’ll want to look decent, no?’

  ‘Okay then. When should I come to the hospital?’

  ‘In about two hours.’

  ‘What if the baby wants to come out before that?’

  ‘They usually don’t till much after the water breaks. Dilation might start, but it doesn’t always start off painfully. So relax, have something light to eat and call me when you reach the hospital. I’ll inform Dr Peerbhoy.’

  12:15 p.m.

  It really felt like I was getting ready for a date. I washed my hair and waxed whatever I could see under my large belly. I was also desperately looking for a cab online while munching on a light sandwich when I felt a sharp pang of pain.

  ‘No, no, no, RJ. Stay in, stay in!’ It was pointless calling anyone over because of the rain.

  Just then the bell rang. Reeling under the shock of the pain, I dragged myself to the door. The rain hit my face like a tight cold slap and helped me forget my pain for a second. Then the pain came back and with it, acute irritation. Raool Bravo stood in front of me, dripping wet.

  12:30 p.m.

  Raool’s scarf was billowing like a sail in the howling wind.

  While I was making my useless observations, I hadn’t noticed that he had started talking.

  ‘What?’ I screamed, attempting to be heard above the howling wind.

  He mumbled again.

  ‘Come in!’ I screamed again, pulling him in by his scarf.

  When the door shut, I went and sank into a chair, trying to catch my breath.

  ‘Why are you here, Raool?’ I asked rather rudely. ‘I am already…’

  He had a rather tortured expression on his face. ‘Didi, can I please talk?’ he pleaded, cutting me off. ‘Mira had mentioned you might be home … well … and there’s the storm, but I had to come and speak, before I got too scared and changed my mind.’

  I looked at him silently.

  ‘Didi, I know you think I’m a rich, spoilt brat. And a good for nothing. But…’

  ‘Look, Raool,’ I said gasping as the pain came back, ‘this is really not a good time!’

  ‘Please Didi, please listen to me just once. I know you think I’m a rich brat and a good for nothing.’ Despite my pain I had to suppress a smile. He had clearly practised this speech many times over.

  ‘I cannot help where I come from and I cannot explain why I am this way. Sometimes I also think I’m stupid. But one thing that I know works right is my heart. And it beats for Mira. Every morning, afternoon and night.’

  ‘How about at teatime?’ I asked through gritted teeth. He looked confused but then smiled a shy smile.

  ‘Didi, you’re pulling my leg.’ Then the smile disappeared and he shifted back to recitation mode. ‘Mira is much smarter than I am, but we are also similar in many ways. I know I can keep her happy. You are the only one who can speak to Uncle–Auntie and convince them that I don’t have bhusa in my head.’

  ‘Mira told you they said that? That girl just doesn’t know how to filter information.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m glad she’s honest. I actually used to do quite well in studies but then in college I lost my way with some bad company. I came here to tell you that I’ve cleared my MBA entrance exams and as soon as the course is done and I’m placed in a company, I want to marry Mira.’

  Then he drew a long breath, like he was finally done. I looked at him for a long time. His disarming honesty had suddenly found a small corner in my heart. But before I could say anything, another jolt of pain tore through my back and I screamed.

  Raool looked like he had been struck by lightning and jumped backwards. ‘Didi, I’m sorry for upsetting you. I…’

  ‘I’m having a baby, you fool! I’m in labour!’

  That was when he passed out and lay on the floor, looking like a ghost, with his scarf lying limply next to him. Of course. I prodded him with my foot and screamed at him, urging him to wake up. Then I found a jug of water and splashed it on his face. He came to slowly and stood up, looking lost.

  ‘Don’t faint! You need to get me to the hospital. How did you get here?’

  He suddenly seemed to collect himself. ‘I didn’t get my car because of the rain. But I convinced a friendly cabbie to drop me. He won’t wait for long, though, so …’

  ‘You mean he is outside?!’ I asked, wildly happy at escaping the possibility of delivering my baby at home in front of this man.

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled, probably similarly relieved that he might not have to deliver a baby after all.

  ‘Let’s go! Go grab my hospital bag from the room. It’s red and blue. It’s kept in the first cupboard.’

  He dashed inside as I checked my phone. No network. Just my luck.

  He came running out with the bag, two of my bras dangling from its side. ‘I don’t think I’ll be needing those,’ I said, grabbing and throwing them on the table. He turned beetroot-red and reached out to hold me as I got up.

  12:40 p.m.

  I watched as Raool had an animated conversation with the cabbie and, I was pretty sure, bribed his way towards an agreement. I turned back for a second to look at the house. The next time I w
alked in there, RJ would be with us. How desperately I wished that Abhi could be here with me now!

  Raool ran up the steps to get me, beaming from ear to ear.

  ‘He has agreed to take us to the hospital through the Sea Link. That way we won’t get too much flooding.’ He took the bag and my handbag on one shoulder and stretched out his other hand to support me. My footing was not firm and I almost slipped, but he caught me just in time.

  ‘Please don’t fight me on this. There’s no other way. This porch is too slippery.’ That said, he bent and scooped me up in his arms. I could hear him groaning with the effort. Poor thing. All his muscles were popping.

  I also sighed at my luck. Here I was, at the start of one of the biggest events in my life, without my family and friends, without Abhi, in the arms of a strange guy. Aaaaargh!

  68

  Cab. 27 October. 12:50 p.m.

  ‘Pardesi pardesi jaana nahi,

  Mujhe chhod ke mujhe chhod ke!’

  ‘I can’t hear that song anymore,’ I screamed. Then I gave Raool a murderous look. ‘Tell him, if he doesn’t switch it off, I’ll deliver my baby in this car!’ As soon as the message was communicated, there was sudden silence.

  ‘Medem, new English song I have,’ the cabbie announced eagerly as Michael Jackson started crooning, ‘…it don’t matter if you’re black or white!’

  ‘New?’ Before I could protest, another stab of pain tore through me.

  Once the cramp had passed, I desperately tried to call Abhi again and got the same sing-song out-of-reach message.

  ‘Jis upbhogta ko aapne call kiya hai, unka phone network kaarya khshetra se bahar hai. Kripya thodi der baad try karein.’

  ‘Why do you sound so happy!? Happy at my misery, are you?’ I bellowed at the mechanical voice. I turned to Raool, who sported a deep shade of red by now.

  ‘Don’t you faint again!’ He nodded vigorously, anticipating violence. Suddenly his phone rang and his face broke into an ecstatic smile.

  ‘Mira, Mira! Yes. There’s very bad network because of this weather. God knows. Here here.’ He shoved the phone into my ear.

  ‘Tadeeeeee!’ she screamed. ‘It’s happening!’

  ‘Yes, I know that! I can feel it!’ I screamed back.

  ‘I know it must be terrible but hang in there. I had no idea Raool was with you.’ She sounded worried.

  ‘This bloody pain comes every few minutes!’ I winced as another contraction hit me.

  ‘Tadi, I’m so sorry you’re going through this alone. I spoke to Mom when Raool called to tell me. She’s going nuts not being able to get through to you. Raool said your phone got wet. I’m trying to get the first flight out and…’ and after some static the line got cut.

  ‘Damn you, network!’ I waved my fist in the air to no one in particular.

  1:20 p.m.

  The rain just wouldn’t let up and the traffic was crawling as well.

  ‘I want a Filet-o-Fish from McDonald’s,’ I announced.

  Raool looked confused. ‘But we should get you to the hospital, right?’

  ‘I had had one bite of my sandwich when you waltzed in. I’m hungry. I won’t get food till much later. Get me my burger!’ I insisted, pouting like a petulant child.

  ‘There is one drive-through up ahead. I’ll try.’ Then he got down to explaining the diversion to the driver, who looked at me in the rear-view mirror like I was a lunatic.

  Healthline Hospital. 1:40 p.m.

  Finally at the hospital porch, I was wheeled towards the reception. The same stern, rotund head nurse was sitting with a sour face.

  ‘The room you booked is no longer available. We will have to upgrade you to the suite.’

  ‘I’ll deliver at the Taj Mahal if you want me to. Just hurry!’

  ‘Who will take responsibility for the patient?’ she asked, looking at Raool.

  ‘I will,’ he said meekly, looking like he was about to faint again.

  Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a portly, secretary-like woman peering down at me. ‘Are you Tara Roy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I have many messages from your family and friends. They could not get through to you so they called the reception. Repeatedly,’ she said, looking extremely agitated. ‘Some of them should be here soon. I will share these with you but I refuse to take any more messages.’

  I nodded, breathing sharply. I couldn’t remember even one bloody breathing technique from the pre-natal classes.

  She cleared her throat and started. ‘From your husband: “I love you baby. I’m so sorry I’m not there. Waiting for my flight which is delayed. You can do this.”’

  ‘From your friend Sania: “We are all coming to you.” Then I think she abused someone. She has a bit of a foul mouth.’ I chuckled.

  ‘Well, this next lady was crying most of the time but then the husband came on the line and said, “Give her our blessings.” Then I heard the lady asking for antacid.’ This had to be Auntie.

  ‘Last one. Your mother: “I’m coming, beta. With ashes from Panna Baba. And stay away from that bewakoof boy.”’ Raool, who was filling up some forms, cleared his throat discreetely.

  ‘She doesn’t mean it. She just doesn’t know you,’ I said, feeling a twinge of pity. He nodded, smiling.

  1:50 p.m.

  I started remembering how the women in FirstCrib had described their labour pains, ranging from the pain of amputation to being run over by a car, to a mere pressured tugging, to having pooped after a month. My version was that it felt like somebody had pinned my body up for an anatomy lesson and was slicing me repeatedly!

  ‘Hi, I am Gizelle Konduskar,’ announced a tall, well-built, striking fellow, not looking like a doctor or a Gizelle or a Konduskar. He walked in and started strapping on small plugs onto my stomach after applying the greasy goop. ‘We’ll be checking for the baby’s heartbeat now. I’m in touch with Dr Peerbhoy.’

  ‘Your name’s really Gizelle?’

  He shrugged. ‘I get that question a lot. But yes. I understand. Makes me sound like a delicate cartoon character.’

  ‘Oh no, don’t worry,’ I lied. ‘By the way, the pain is pretty frequent and very bad. Can I get the epidural?’

  ‘Now c’mon,’ he said. ‘Just be strong. You cannot be more than two centimetres dilated. It’s early.’

  After he’d checked on RJ’s heartbeat, I was taken to my own room. The suite. It was even fancier than our honeymoon suite. But even as I crawled onto a sofa, bent sideways with debilitating pain, my ears were still thudding with the sound of that heartbeat. Tik tik tik tik. Steady, sure, calm. The exact opposite of the storm outside.

  2:30 p.m.

  ‘Get that bloody Bambi to check me again, Raool! I’m sure I’m pretty dilated,’ I screamed as another contraction rocked my body.

  ‘Diala …What?’

  ‘Down there,’ I said, pointing below my stomach. ‘Dilated!’

  After turning another shade of red, Raool rushed to get the doctor.

  He returned after five minutes. ‘Dr Gizelle says it’s still not time.’

  ‘Damn you!’ I hollered.

  3:00 p.m.

  ‘He still won’t listen, Didi! I’ve gone to him many times. He said that this is normal.’

  ‘Just get him in here once. I’ll handle the rest,’ I said menacingly.

  Five minutes later, Gizelle strode in confidently and gave me a sympathetic look. ‘I know it must be a little painful, but trust me, you’re not ready yet.’

  ‘Just check me and I’ll shut up.’

  ‘I’ve told you, I’ve seen this a million times and…’

  I sat up in bed and hissed at him in my scariest voice. ‘Listen up pal, I have all the right in the world to have my stage of dilation checked from time to time. If you are too goddamned busy to do it, then send someone else but I tell you this – if that someone else comes and tell me I’m dilated enough for an epidural, then so help me God, I will hunt you down and make you
sorry for taking me lightly.’

  His confident expression transformed into one of alarm. Raool looked at me in awe. The nurse whispered to him, ‘She’s scary.’

  ‘I … I’ll check you,’ said Gizelle, looking intimidated. ‘I would have checked you soon anyway.’

  ‘Sure,’ I snarled.

  As soon as he was done, he started apologizing. ‘You’re almost nine centimetres dilated. I’m sorry. You were at two centimetres when I last checked you. It almost never happens this quickly.’

  Suddenly my phone, that Raool had been drying with the help of the washroom hand dryer, started ringing. It was Abhi. I wanted to dance with joy!

  ‘Baby, how are you?’ He sounded terribly worried.

  I burst into tears at the reassuring sound of his voice. ‘I need you here. I need you here,’ I sobbed.

  Even his voice broke. ‘I know, my darling. My baby. You’re being so brave! I’ve landed. I’m on my way. The rain is still very heavy but I’ll find my way to you. No matter what.’

  3:15 p.m.

  Now that the phone was dry and working and the weather a bit better, the calls started pouring in. Unfortunately for him, Raool was instantly appointed my secretary and had to handle all calls. The last call from Mom had left him particularly unnerved.

  ‘Is the anaesthetist coming?’ I squeaked, looking at him. He set aside the phone, came and sat next to me and took my hand. ‘Yes. And you can squeeze my hand as much as you like till he gets here.’ He smiled and I smiled back.

  ‘You’re not half bad, you know,’ I said with a weak smile.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’d like your parents to realize.’ He looked sad.

  ‘You know what you will have to forsake forever if they do agree, right?’

  He looked solemn. ‘What, Didi?’

  ‘That hideous scarf! It’s so annoying!’

  He laughed uproariously. ‘That’s all? No problem.’

  There was a knock on the door and another stern nurse with an austere and impeccable bun walked in.

  ‘I am here to prep you,’ she declared while putting on her latex gloves.

  ‘She looks like Hannibal Lecter from Silence of the Lambs!’ I said, squishing Raool’s hand.

  ‘Didi, was that released before DDLJ or after?’ he asked innocently.