by Anubha Mehta
I turned around to look at the woman one last time. “Hello, I am Maya. I am his wife.”
“I am Suzy. He and I work closely together.” What an interesting choice of words, I thought.
“Thank you again,” I said, shutting the door while she was still standing there and staring at me without blinking.
Veer laid down under my blanket on the living room settee. I switched off the TV, blew out our dinner candle, and left the sorry remains of our cold dinner on the table. Today, for the first time, I doubted Veer’s will power. For many dark hours, I found solace on the cold bench under the angel’s wings and I welcomed the mocking wind that rose from the lake and threatened to take me with it.
28.
I DID NOT FUNCTION WELL the next morning. I stared at our roof beams over our bed for many hours after waking up. Thankfully, it was the weekend and I did not have to drop Diya or go to work. I could hear her singing in her room. Veer’s pillow was still untouched. I was angry.
When I crawled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, I saw from the window that Veer was sitting under the stone angel feeding the birds. The white doves were not there.
“Veer!” I called as I walked out onto the deck. He looked up at me and then looked down at the ground again. Barefoot, I waded through the grass and sat next to him. And then he surprised me.
“I am sorry, Maya.” He said it in a soft voice, not a tone that I could snap a retort to.
“Sorry?”
“Yes, Maya. I am sorry for dragging you here, and I am sorry for my behaviour. I really don’t know what comes over me. I get these frenzies in my head, these voices, dark untrusting thoughts … and then I cannot control myself.”
I felt his pain, his helplessness.
The wind suddenly picked up. It blew in from the lake, crisp and bitter. In a flash, I understood what was happening. Gayatri’s story flashed before my eyes. I remembered her narrative about Veer’s grandfather’s behaviour. Veer had to know. I had to share the secret. Maybe then he would understand why these voices started in his head.
“Veer, do you know about your grandfather?” A dark shadow crossed his face.
“Yes, Mummy told me.”
“Well, what did she tell you?”
“Only that he was cheated by his wife who was beautiful, and cruel.” I gasped. How menacing and damaging was his mother’s interpretation of events.
“No. No, Veer. You have it all wrong. You see, I know about her. This is not the truth.”
Veer was looking at me strangely. “How do you know?”
“I found her diary.”
“Her what?”
“Your grandmother used to write in a journal every day. It will make you understand her tragic life, her passion, her pain, her joy. No, Veer, she was not cruel.”
“Maya, you have gone mad. You are always meddling in things that do not concern you.”
“But you see, it does concern us, in ways that are deep and disturbing.”
“What do you mean?”
“She writes about how your grandfather had the same voices in his head that made him want to control her, hurt her. So now that we know, we can find a cure. We can cure you.” I was breathless with a child’s excitement who has just divulged something important.
Veer became completely still. “And where is this diary?” he finally asked.
“Wait here.” I ran in to fetch the book.
When I returned, he had not moved. He was still staring at the same ground near his feet, and the vein in his forehead was throbbing furiously.
“Here. See.” I handed him the diary.
“So you brought this here, into our new life, into our new home?” I was taken aback by his superstition. This had crossed my mind too, but when Veer put it so directly there was no escaping what I had done.
He opened it and something fell out. I should have hidden the photo. How silly of me.
He instantly picked it up, and his eyes gave him away. They became alert and enlarged. His body stiffened. I tried to take the photo back from his hand, but he stood up. He was so much taller than me, and I could not reach it anymore.
“Who is this? She looks a lot like you.”
“You should know.”
“Why?”
“Because I was told this was your grandmother.”
He sat down slowly, gravely. His back was as straight as a stick, and sweat gathered on his temples. Nervously I started flipping the pages, and something else fell out. Something that I had forgotten about. Something more auspicious and bright. A short peacock feather. A token from Sheila on our last day. I suddenly remembered that I promised I would return it to her as an assurance of our happiness. A salty, sneaky tear edged out of the side of my eye and rolled down my cheek. I wanted things to change, to be different, so that I could go and tell Sheila how happy we were after escaping the walls of the mansion.
“Veer, look at this.” I showed him the feather
“Veer, does it not remind you of warm nights in our peacock garden over a shimmering lotus pond?”
He did not answer, but sat silently with the photograph clenched in his fist.
I tried to explain my resemblance to Gayatri, from what I had understood.
“Oh, that is a mere coincidence. My mother was from the same town of Peshawar as your grandmother. So we carry the same ethnic semblance of the North West, it happens a lot in the world you know…”
Veer didn’t respond, but I sensed then that Veer knew more about his grandparents than he admitted to me.
“No, it doesn’t.” Veer’s voice was shaky. He started moving towards the house.
“Veer!” I called out. He turned around, his eyes red.
“Don’t you see what is happening here, Maya?”
“What?”
“We are them. We are trapped in their misfortune. We cannot escape it wherever we go…. We are doomed together.”
I sat on the cold bench, barefoot and shaken. For a long time. Veer was going mad and he was pulling me with him in a downward spiral. Something inside me didn’t agree with Veer. It was a stubborn compulsiveness that believed in a better day. It was hope.
***
At eight when the doorbell rang, I thought Veer had returned from work. Instead, I opened the door to a face that I never wished to see.
“Oho, hello, hello, Maya ji. How are you?” It was Gautam. He had eyeliner around his eyes and the stench of his hair oil was making me queasy.
“Veer is not here. Please come another time.”
“What is the hurry, my dear, eh? I mean, I know that Veer is not here. Don’t you want to ask me how I know?” I pressed my lips tight. “Okay, dear girl, I will tell you. I visited him at the office. You see he wants to buy another business property, and…” I knew more was coming. And it was not pleasant. “Well, well, so we signed the papers today. Wait, did he not tell you? Ohoo, then maybe he forgot in all the celebrations in the office.”
“What celebrations?”
“Now I am speaking out of place, Maya ji. That new exciting Suzy had a big cake, music, and drinks…. You not invited?”
I tried to hide my emotions but I could no longer keep up the facade. I did not care if I broke down. Before I knew it, Gautam was sitting next to me on the couch with one hand on my back and another slowly edging to my thigh. Diya walked in. Gautam looked up at her slowly.
“Oho, so who is this beauty?”
And just like that my spell was broken. What was I doing? In my weakness, I had let my guard down. How was this lecherous man sitting next to us in our home?
I stood up.
“Please leave right now.”
He was shocked at my sudden rudeness. But he sensed his limits. “You will regret this. No wonder Rani aunty says you are a witch. Now I know….”
I shut the door and locked it. Diya held me for a long time. She knew not to ask questions, questions that would only lead to more hurt. She was perceptive and far wiser than her years.
Eventually she went back to her practising. In the midst of her high notes I did not hear the phone ring. When she stopped abruptly, I finally heard it and ran to pick it up, thinking it might be Veer.
“Gosh, Maya, I have been trying to call you forever.”
“William! Hello…”
“Is this a good time?”
“Yes, yes. Is everything okay?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about an Eastern line of apparel that we have started developing.”
“No, William, I can not model for you.”
He laughed warmly. “I know I cannot be that lucky! ” There was an ease about talking to William. “I wanted to ask you something else, though I haven’t worked out all the details yet. But, I would like you to be involved in this project.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I would like you to work with me in a small team and I will personally train you over the months to choose and develop the merchandise.”
“You mean like an apprentice?”
“Do you really have to call it that, Maya? All I need is your willingness to learn and time.”
“Why me, William? Surely you have an abundance of trained personnel at your disposal?”
“Yes. But when I am building a team and starting a new line, then I need people whom I have worked with and I can trust.”
“William, you know I have a daughter to pick up after school and look after when she gets home?”
“Yes, I do. Whatever she does at home, we can set up a space for her here. Who knows, this exposure may just spark something in her.”
“You really have thought of everything.” I was familiar with William’s persistence when he wanted something.
“No, not everything, Maya.”
“What do you mean?”
“You did not mention your husband. From what I heard, he was not too happy the last time I caught a glimpse of him.”
I was quiet. Gossip travelled fast. It was an awkward moment between us. And William bridged it with ease. “Just say yes.”
I was quiet.
“Maya?’”
“Yes, William, I will work with you.”
“You have made me a very happy man. Thank you.”
And I did not feel like crying anymore. I wanted to thank him too, but I decided not to.
29.
VEER DIDN’T COME HOME that night. The next morning we went about our routine as if nothing was amiss. When we returned that evening the phone light was flashing with messages.
“Hello, Mrs. Rajas …sa…nia. This is Mrs. Hodge from Wellsworth school. Please call me back at this number. It is regarding your daughter, Diya.”
Diya was standing behind me. She had heard the message. “Mama, I don’t like Mrs. Hodge. Please don’t call her….”
“Why don’t you go and change. I will warm up dinner, and then we can talk.”
I switched on the burner and heated up some fried chicken from the other night. This time I laid only two plates at the table. Then I dialled the number. “Hello, this is Maya, Diya’s mother. I believe you wanted to speak to me.”
“Oh yes. I am glad you called me. I wanted to tell you before it got worse. You see it is a matter that we don’t take lightly in this country.”
My heart started beating faster. “What happened?”
“This morning, at recess, I caught your daughter Diya bullying another child—a boy, Chris.”
“Bullying?”
“Yes, bullying.”
“She had grabbed Chris by his collar and was saying something to him which frightened Chris.”
“Well, I am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Hodge. Did you find out what the reason was? It is not in Diya’s nature to do this kind of a thing.”
“What is there to find out? Being caught in the act of bullying speaks for itself.”
“There must have been a reason, Mrs. Hodge. I apologize on her behalf. I will talk to her tonight.”
“You see, Mrs. Raaas … ania, when people come to our country, they bring with them certain values and customs that are ‘un-Canadian.’ They will try to spread them around if we don’t nip such practices in the bud.”
I immediately resented the patronizing undertone and the negativity of the past few days finally descended on me. “I am sorry but I don’t quite understand you. What are you saying? Are you implying that I am teaching Diya to bully? And how would you define people like us? How do you define ‘un-Canadian’?”
She was taken aback by my outspokenness and it took her a moment to answer. She retreated. “Well, well. It is in the principal’s hands now. I will let her know tomorrow that I had counselled you, as I had expected, with not much success.”
I sat down at the table. Was this all my fault? Was I responsible for Diya’s pent up anger, which led her to bullying other children simply because I did not agree to all that Veer wanted in our relationship? Was this the price I had to pay to stand on my own feet? No. If Diya was affected by the troubles between us, it did not matter whose fault it was, or what the reason was. It simply had to stop.
The next morning, Diya and I set out early for school. I decided to walk in the falling snow, with bulky snow boots, jackets, hats, mitts, knapsack and all. “Diya, I am going to meet your principal. If someone has been bad then that person will be punished, so tell me what happened,” I prodded gently.
“I don’t want to,” came Diya’s answer.
“Well, then you will be punished, but not by me.”
“I don’t care.” I knew she was telling the truth. She really didn’t care.
“Diya!”
“I was just scaring Chris, and then Mrs. Hodge came and heard what I was saying to Chris. She was very angry with me. .”
“Why were you scaring Chris, Diya?” We had stopped walking.
“Chris was saying rude things….”
“Like what?”
“He called me a liar and told me to go back to where we came from, back to India.”
My heart was breaking. But I needed to hear the whole story. “Why was Chris calling you a liar?”
“’Cause I lied to Mrs. Hodge.”
“Why?”
“Because Mrs. Hodge would not let me skate on ice. Bella and I both forgot our skates, but she gave Bella another pair. When I asked, she said, ‘No.’ There were many spare skates on the shelf, so I picked up a pair and told her that they were mine.” Diya’s face was red, her fists clenched.
“Diya, did Mrs. Hodge hear what Chris said to you?”
Diya nodded with her head bent. “When Chris said those things to me, Mrs. Hodge was standing behind him.”
Now I was furious, both at Mrs. Hodge and at Diya. We had almost reached the school compound. Diya kissed me goodbye and ran off in the direction of her class.
The principal was already in her office. She was a large, handsome woman with thick chestnut hair tied tightly in a knot at the nape of her neck. She reminded me of a very efficient matron, but with the tenderness of a grandmother. I found myself drawn to her immediately. She got up and closed the door. “I have sent for Diya from her class, but before we talk to her I wanted to chat with you for a bit.” She paused and smiled at me again. I wanted to believe that she liked me. But I had to confront her about what had transpired, even at the cost of my supposed popularity with her.
“So, Mrs. Raajaa...”
“Call me Maya.”
“Call me Mrs. Lucas.”
“So, Maya, how long have you been in Canada?” That was not a question I was expecting from her.
“Not long enough.” Her face betrayed her. I think she picked up on m
y sarcasm. “And does it really matter how long I’ve been here? The real issue is how long does it take one to be accepted?” I stopped talking. I sounded bitter even to myself.
Mrs. Lucas was smiling. “Mrs. Hodge briefed me about what happened in the school yard between Diya and Chris and then her subsequent conversation with you last evening.”
I told her everything Diya had said to me earlier. “Is Diya in trouble?” I asked.
She took a deep breath before answering. “Yes, Diya will be punished and counselled for this act, just to ensure that she makes better choices in similar situations in the future. But Chris will be punished too for his hateful and inflammatory remarks to Diya. We will ensure that Diya learns the importance of telling the truth and continues to stand up for herself in difficult times, but using other, more peaceful ways.”
I was right about the principal. She was effective, wise, and kind. And whatever trust I had lost overnight in the Canadian education system was restored that very minute.
There was still one matter remaining, that of Mrs. Hodge’s comments to me. I knew I had to address this. So, I added, “Don’t give my child special treatment, Mrs. Lucas, but don’t discriminate either. Is that too much to ask for? I know you as educators deal with a lot, but remember not to place everyone in the same stereotypical boxes by calling them ‘un-Canadian’ as Mrs. Hodge did with me.”
“Yes, I will have to have a word with Mrs. Hodge as well,” she nodded. “I am glad you were able to speak your mind, Maya.”
“I have been accused of doing worse!” We laughed.
“Well Maya,” she continued, “Diya is special. As you know that she is being considered for placement in a special music program. Well, I have some good news. She was auditioned by our music teacher and she is now slated to join our elementary school choir. In her next school year, she will be ready to attend a special session in our downtown rehearsal hall to give her a ‘grown-up’ expreience.”
My heart filled with joy.
Just then the door opened and Diya walked in, followed by Mrs. Hodge. The principal took her aside and started speaking to her in a soft voice. I saw her nodding, and Diya’s face was no longer angry.