by Anubha Mehta
Any second, I expected to see a large ulcer or a tumour. With all the nausea and giddiness it had to be one of those. But on the screen, it all looked like wet mud in marshy waters. Veer reluctantly took a seat behind my head for a full view. The doctor frowned as he concentrated on an area below my stomach. By now, I was sure that the tumour was big and round and malignant.
“Is something wrong?” Veer asked, baffled. Instead of answering, Robby zoomed in and pressed a button. A white asterisk appeared on the screen over something that was throbbing.
“Do you see that? Do you know what it is?” he asked, smiling.
“A tumour?” I asked.
“No, silly! It’s a baby! Congratulations! You are going to become parents!”
“What?” I sat bolt upright and knocked the transducer right off my stomach. I turned to Veer, but he was not there! Had he run away? Then I saw him. He was lying flat on the ground with closed eyes.
Oh my god! He’d fainted. “Oh, please sprinkle some water on his face,” I yelled.
Veer opened his eyes and winked.
“Not funny, Veer,” I said. I could have killed him. I turned to joke with the doctor, “Why would I need a child when I have a full-grown one right here?” But my humour was wasted on Robby. He was already on his way to call Veer’s parents.
On the way back from the hospital, we stopped at my parents’ house for some solace. But, instead, we found they were ecstatic.
“No more gallivanting! Veer told us everything last night.” My father was rambling, and my mother could not stop smiling.
“But, Mom, I am not ready for a baby. You see, I … I…”
She held her hand up as if I could save whatever I had to say. It did not matter anymore. “Maya, it is time; the correct time is … now.”
17.
THE LAST FEW MONTHS passed languorously. Since the day that we discovered I was pregnant, Veer was a changed person. His anger was a thing of the past and none of the usual triggers, not even his mother’s taunts, sent him back into rage, resentment, or insecurity. The new Veer was attentive, affectionate, and relaxed. Day after day, I floated from our room to the shade of the peepal and back. Every morning I looked forward to feeding our peacocks, and every evening I threw out some seeds for a group of homing pigeons. Even though my trip to the west wing was a forgotten memory, there were days when I felt someone was watching me through those smudged windowpanes of our forbidden section. But I was growing enormously big by the day to care too much about that right now. By the time the monsoons arrived, there was a whole orchestra inside my tummy during the day, and a football tournament at night.
It was one of those mornings when Veer told me about a party that he had to host for his business clients.
“You don’t have to do anything, Maya. It will all be taken care of.” I couldn’t help but notice that this was the first time Veer had ever bothered to entertain his business clients. Till now, I assumed that there was really no need to appease clients when the family business was doing so well. But then there were nights when he came home stressed from all the recent problems he had been facing at work. Last week, I noticed Bahadur serving the afternoon tea with a very lean spread at the table. He had muttered something about this being the new reality. I wondered if things were as they seemed in the Rajsinghania household. But of course no one told me these things, least of all his parents, and Veer had only mentioned in passing that the company finances were at an all time low.
“Veer, even if I wanted to help with your party, I don’t think I could do much that would be useful,” I laughed and pointed at my big belly.
On the day of the party, our mansion was beautifully lit up when the guests began to arrive. There were fairy lights twisted over flowering gulmohar trees in the peacock garden. Every corner was exposed, illuminated. Today, the mansion looked like it housed no secrets for people who were blissfully unaware. I looked up to the grand peepal under a full new moon. The lilies were sparkling in a silent pond under its smile. A turquoise spotlight accentuated each contour of the peepal’s grainy bark, giving it an aura of eternity. I could feel nothing but the soothing touch of love here.
A low whispering breeze had picked up and I shivered. I strained my ears to listen to its moans but there were none. Suddenly, the peace was invaded by sharp voices at the entrance.
Who was that? I looked for Veer. He was smiling behind me.
Surprise!
I instantly recognized Rony, goalie of Veer’s school soccer team, despite his weight. He handed me the most exquisite bouquet of blue iris, orange tulips, and carnations. Close at his heel and inseparable as always was Sam, Veer’s centre back. They made a beeline for the bar. Behind them were Tina and Jiya.
My pupils dilated with excitement and my face was flushed. I couldn’t find my voice. Veer bent over and kissed me. Oh, how I loved him!
Then entered more friends from high school with feathered hats over sparkling masks and revealing dresses. Except for a few inches on their waistlines, they all looked the same. To complete their Moulin Rouge effect, they carried streamers, helium balloons, and plastic whistles.
And just behind them walked in Anita.
This evening was now complete.
“Hey Maya, you look like a queen in that black chiffon gown,” Tina’s figures stroked the zari trim to feel for its genuineness.
Anita hugged me and we clung to each other for moment, happy to be together.
“So, have you thought of a name yet?” Jiya always popped the most predictable question.
“Yes,” I replied smugly.
“Well?” Tina nudged. “Tell us!”
“Diya. Her name will be Diya.”
Anita gasped. She knew, she remembered. I had decided on the same name as Gayatri had chosen for her baby if it had been a girl.
I could hear Anita’s internal voice persuading me to change my mind. But before she could say anything out loud, Jiya was already on her next question. “How do you know it’s a girl, Maya? Have you found out?”
“No, I haven’t found out. I don’t need to. I know,” I said and walked away looking for Veer.
An enormous black forest cake sat on the table outside, surrounded by glasses filled with sparkling champagne. Veer made a toast for our upcoming baby and for many such nights with friends. Glasses clinked and everyone clapped as we started to cut the cake.
As plates were passed, loud music from large speakers hidden in the bushes began to play. An outdoor wooden dance floor came alive with flashing multi-coloured disco ball and artificial fog. Veer had thought of everything. In a matter of seconds we had moved from the Garden of Eden to a swinging teenager party zone.
The women had started lining up to form a circle. I was told to clasp the waist of the person in front, forming some sort of a train. The volume of the music was turned up and we started moving forward, cheering, whistling and circling the boundary of the endless yard.
I was so happy that I was terrified something would jinx my joy. Nothing mattered to me but this moment. I wanted this night to last forever. I freed my swollen feet from my shoes and danced barefoot on the cold grass. My bulky body didn’t stop me from swaying and swirling to the beat of the music. Hoarse from all the loud singing, I was about to collapse into my usual lawn chair under the peepal, when I felt a cold hand clasp my arm.
I turned around, thinking it was another crazy friend. Except, it was anyone but a friend. It was the last person I wanted to see. I was looking directly into her eyes. Veer’s mother’s eyes. My breath left my body.
I was barefoot, grimy, and sweaty with the ear-splitting singing and frenzied dancing. My hair was tangled strewn over my hot face and my chiffon gown stained with tell-tale marks of candy floss and tandoori masala.
The music stopped and silence fell. Our friends huddled around me in anticipation of what would transpi
re.
Veer’s mother’s voice was like a whip across my face. “Maya, you will have to immediately pack up this charade, your crude display of uninhibited self-indulgence. Look at you. Should you be behaving so hysterically in such a state? Your actions bring nothing but disgrace to our family.” Her forehead was soaked with sweat even though it was a cool night, her nostrils were flared under narrow eyes, her hands were on her waist, and her feet were pulled apart.
My head swirled, my eyes blackened. I was so faint that I felt like vomiting. I had done nothing wrong but it felt that as though I had done something terrible. I had never been spoken to so harshly by anyone before. Tears were rolling down my cheeks liberally.
Veer was by my side. She looked at him. He lowered his head, as if in shame. We were humiliated in front of all our friends.
She said to Veer in a sharp voice, “What a fool you are to be under her spell this way…. If you continue like this, very soon she will be dominating everything in this household with her carefree, hippie ways. Is this why I brought you up? To witness this day, this shame fall upon our family?” Her voice choked up in sympathy—for herself.
An eerie stillness that had descended over us like a dark omen. Not even the breeze gave way. Veer did not say a word. His head continued to be lowered.
Suddenly we noticed a frail figure stepping out of the shadows. It was Veer’s father. Looking embarrassed at this public outburst, he tried to salvage whatever was left of this situation. “Calm down, dear, the children meant no disrespect. They were simply having some fun. We have our own parties all the time, don’t we?”
Veer’s mother shot her husband a look that completely destroyed whatever courage he had. Then she turned her back and stomped out of the lawn towards the house.
Veer’s father placed his hand on my drooping shoulders, gently kissed my forehead and left after her.
Our party was over. Anita was by my side, but I was too numb to talk. Our friends wanted to stay to ensure that we were okay but Veer politely asked them to leave.
And then suddenly a surge of anger gripped me. Livid and mortified, not caring who was around to hear me, I asked, “Veer, why didn’t you tell your mother that this wasn’t my idea?”
But before he could answer, I felt like an elastic band had popped within my stomach. I knew it was time. I screamed. And between hospital lights, stretchers, and incredible pain, all the rest was a blur.
***
Everything was dark. I was falling in a bottomless pit. There was nothing to hold, no one to catch me. I gasped for air. Opaque shadows were suffocating me. There was nothing to look forward to. I was alone in this pain. No one understood. No one liked me in my new house. I was not worthy of this new family. I had brought shame to their family name. Veer was disappointed in me too or else he would have spoken up in front of his mother. I don’t want to live anymore. I had no strength to get up from this strange bed. Where was I?
There was a rustle in the darkness and a warm familiar hand cupped mine. Ma! I wanted to go back home with her. “Congratulations, Maya. We have a beautiful granddaughter!”
Diya had arrived.
“Why don’t I remember anything, Ma?”
“We had to sedate you. And you had to have a caesarean.”
I tried to prop myself up but my lower abdomen hurt.
“Don’t try to get up just yet,” she said. “Your incision is still fresh and I am sure it hurts.” She started stroking my head gently and it felt good to let myself relax under her fingers.
There was a knock at the door. The nurse walked in with a small bundle. She handed it to me.
The bundle stirred and then I saw her. That upturned nose, the soft, rosy cheeks, the long, dark eyelashes, the tiny and dainty fingers and toes. She was perfect. She was mine. I was complete.
The door opened again and a euphoric Veer entered the room with soggy eyes and a bouquet of red roses.
“Do you want to hold her?” I asked, my voice low and unsure.
He didn’t wait to answer. He took Diya into his arms and he was transformed. He radiated love and gratitude and I realized I had been holding my breath.
I looked away. Why did I feel so different? What was happening to me? I looked at Ma, at my husband and the tiny infant in his arms, and I realized that something strange was pulling me down into a sinister place.
18. SHEILA
WHY WAS MAYA-BETI SO QUIET? She didn’t speak, she hardly ate, and she no longer sat near her peacocks. It has been three long months since she returned from the hospital. I was worried.
The only time her eyes lit up were when she held little Diya. I tried to tell the big Madam yesterday, but she did not listen. Master Veer was also silent, except when he held Diya. I asked God to bless this young family and protect them from the darkness of this house.
Last week, I went to oversee Diya’s new nanny when I heard Master Veer’s raised voice. “Why don’t you speak to me? What is wrong? Why are you unhappy?”
This was how things always started. I knew it too well now. My worst fears were surfacing. I worried that Maya-Beti was not able to come out of this spell, just as Madam Gayatri had not been able to. I was unaware of Gayatri Madam’s suffering then, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake again. I had to do something.
I thought about this for a while. It would be best for them to leave this house and go far away. I knew that somehow I would have to talk to Master Veer and convince him. Somehow. Yes, maybe a trip away would help.
I sat at the pantry window. I could see the dining room from that spot. I decided to wait for Bahadur to clear the dinner table and I would catch Master Veer before he left the room.
Bahadur was picking up the sweets. The last course. I pulled myself up and started walking so that I could arrive on time.
When I finally arrived, the dining hall looked bigger than I remembered from when I used to wait there on my Madam. I thought perhaps some furniture was missing, but that worry was for another day. Master Veer had settled on the couch under the lamp. He was reading the paper and he looked peaceful. It was a good time to talk.
Just then the elder Master entered and sat next to his son. “Veer, I want to talk to you.”
I quickly turned around to face the table and pretended to be clearing the last of the dishes with Bahadur’s team.
“Veer, it is time to venture out. You know how bad business has been in the past few years. I would like you to personally oversee the expansion of the international wing of our business.”
“But, Papa, it will entail a lot of travelling—for days and even months. You know I don’t want to leave Maya, who is not in the best of health.”
I hobbled over to to the kitchen. I didn’t want it to be obvious that I was listening. I suddenly understood why the room seemed bigger, why little privileges had vanished for us servants too. So, the rumours were correct after all. The Rajsinghania business was going down.
The first time I noticed something was amiss was when little Malti, Bahadur’s youngest daughter, came from the village to live with him. She came to sleep in my room. “Why? Don’t you have space in your father’s quarters?” I asked.
“No, Father has to share his room with three of the junior helpers.”
“Really? Why? What happened to their own quarters?”
“Well, they have been rented out by the big Madam for a few months.”
Also, the lavish spreads after tea of fruit cake, chicken sandwiches, and coconut macaroons, had gradually diminished over the year, leaving less and less to be returned to us in the kitchen. And then I was told that the junior maids had been let go, and I was requested by the big Madam to come and help out in the kitchen during parties. Even Maya-Beti had only a part-time nanny for her newborn. This was something never seen before in this family.
With the running water and the clatter of the
dishes, I couldn’t hear anything. So I had to go back to clear the rest of the table.
The senior Master was leaving. “Think about it. I want your decision by tomorrow evening, Veer. I hope you will consider your duty to this family.”
Master Veer was deep in thought. This was my only chance. He looked up and smiled as I approached him cautiously. “Oh, hello, Shelia. How are you?”
“I am well, Master Veer, thanks to the family’s blessings. You keep me well. Only good things should come to families like this.”
“Well, thank you, Sheila.” He turned his head back to the newspaper he was reading.
I carried on without shame: “I was referring to the little light that has come into our lives, our little Diya.”
“Uh huh,” he nodded absent-mindedly without lifting his head.
“But Maya-Beti, not so much….”
Master Veer lifted his head to look at me. “What do you mean, Sheila?”
“I mean that she is not very bright these days, Master Veer. She’s not her usual self.”
“Yes, I know. Dr. Robby says it is the exhaustion of childbirth. He has prescribed some pills.”
“It is not my place to be so bold, Master Veer, but this should not last for so many months, don’t you think?”
Master Veer was silent.
“You see, Master Veer, in situations like this, often a little change of scenery does wonders. She will revive herself in new surroundings, even if it is only for a few days.”
There was silence all around us. Master Veer’s head was bent, but he was not reading the paper. That was all I could do, but I think it was enough. I knew that I had planted the seed in his head. I turned and walked away. I slept well that night.