The Scent of Mogra and Other Stories
Page 2
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily know the person I might find to share a living space with, whether it was a man or a woman.” He stretched out his hand, and covered Maya’s, which lay immobile on the table. “Maya, tell me honestly, are you uncomfortable because it is a young woman? Are you jealous?”
She couldn’t look him straight in the eye, though he tried to hold hers. As she looked away, she was embarrassed that her eyes were filling up. She tried surreptitiously to wipe away her tears with her dupatta, but Rahul knew. He waited for her to recover, and smiled at her when she turned back to look at him. “Are you afraid that I will get involved with Chaya? That I will cozy up with her every evening when she returns from work, and won’t want to meet you anymore?”
Maya shook her head. “I know, I’m being silly. Our relationship, our friendship, is our own. And anyway, it’s not … a romantic relationship.” She blushed.
Rahul looked at her steadily, and with affection. “Yes, Maya, it is not … so far. Things can change….” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said that. “Or you may meet someone you want to marry, or I may meet someone too.”
Maya felt much better after that conversation, and helped him pack up and move.
***
The phone call she had always dreaded finally came. She was called to the college office during the middle of a lecture. Her mother had fallen, slipped in the bathroom. The maid attending her could not lift her up. Maya rushed over.
In the taxi, she called Rahul to come and help. He reached before she did, and had already called the doctor. Her mother had a weak heart and was probably dizzy. Rahul offered to stay with her for a few hours every day, while Maya finished the college term. He had developed a regard for her mother; his own parents had passed away when he was a teenager.
Maya shifted to her mother’s place, so that she would not be alone with the maid at night. It would soon be summer vacation, and Maya would then be able to devote herself to her mother’s care. The reality that her mother was getting more and more frail, and would not be there forever, suddenly sunk in.
Maya’s brother Nimesh, and his Canadian wife Naomi, came to Mumbai from Toronto for a couple of weeks. Maya had not seen them for over two years. They had exchanged occasional emails, but nothing more than that. Nimesh was the same age as Rahul. During her brother’s formative years, Maya had been away, studying in the U.S., so they were not very close. But her mother was thrilled to be with her son, and it gave Maya a little time to herself.
Maya’s mother passed away a month later. Maya was still living with her when it happened. Rahul rushed to her side when Maya called him, and held her while she sobbed on his shoulder. It was only after that, that they called everyone who needed to be called and started making funeral arrangements. Nimesh said that he could not come right away, and that she should light the funeral pyre without him. The next few days were a blur for Maya. She did what she was told to do by the elders mechanically. Rahul was always by her side, helping in any way he could.
Life limped back to normal, a new normal for Maya. The summer vacation was over, and she was getting ready for another year at college. Her parents’ apartment was now hers. It was a three bedroom on Nepean Sea road, overlooking the sea. She gave up her rented place and permanently moved into her mother’s flat. It was much easier to get to Sophia College from there, compared to the apartment she’d rented in Colaba. She was also closer to Rahul and Mukul. The apartment was too large for a single person, but she soon got used to it, and began to enjoy the extra space.
A few months after she had moved in, Nimesh and Naomi came to visit her for three weeks, this time with their sixteen-year-old daughter, Lisa. It was a time of great joy for Maya. Her relationship with her brother and sister-in-law had changed after her mother died. Her mother had never fully accepted Naomi, so she and her brother were always on edge. Now there was a warmth and informality that had never surfaced before. Lisa and she hit it off as well. Maya took her niece shopping, and they often went to movies together. Rahul joined them once or twice, and Lisa was fascinated with this “real” artist; she was thinking of becoming an artist too.
Nimesh told her one evening that they had come down mainly to ensure that she was doing okay, now that their mother was no more. Was there anything that they could do for her? They had met Rahul a few times when Maya had invited him over for dinner with the family. They asked Maya about him. Though they tried not to probe, they wanted to know if she was in a serious relationship with Rahul. When she emphatically told them that she was not, they asked if she would like to move to Canada. She could find a teaching job there, or even a job as a counsellor, if she took couple of courses. Maya, who had never thought of leaving Mumbai, was taken aback, but touched by their concern. She said no right away. But before they left, she told them that she would give it some thought.
As time passed, the idea of moving to Canada took a hold of Maya’s mind. A couple of months after Nimesh had left, she spoke to Rahul and her friend Usha about it. Usha encouraged her to think about it seriously. But when she mentioned it to Rahul, he was upset. He said, “Just because your brother has invited you to Toronto, you are thinking of packing up and leaving for good? What about your life here? Your friends, family and career? Granted your mother is no more, but you have a lot of other connections. How can you just forget about all of them ?”
She said, “Yes, I have a whole network of connections here that I would miss. But I’m getting older. Over there I would have my brother, and a sister-in-law, and Lisa.”
Rahul said, “Do you think they would do more for you than your closest friends here? And what about adjusting to a new and different lifestyle? You would have to start by upgrading your qualifications. At Sophia College, you could be the head of your department in a couple of years.”
That night in bed, she wondered about Rahul’s reaction. Did he not want her to leave? But their relationship had not progressed to another level; they were still just close friends. It was true that she had become dependent on his help and support whenever there was a crisis, like her mother’s death, but their relationship had never deepened as she had at times hoped it would.
Maya was now excited about the possibility of a new life, in another country. A few weeks later she spoke about it again with Rahul. This time he was calmer, and it seemed he understood her point of view. Could she broach the topic of their relationship with him? If it became a permanent commitment, and Maya thought she was ready for it, she would not think of going to Toronto at all. But how was she to begin?
The sun was about to set, and Maya and Rahul were walking along Marine Drive, looking out at the rough monsoon ocean. Maya said, “Rahul, we spend so much time together; how do you feel about our relationship?”
“I feel close to you, and enjoy our time together, he answered quietly.
She paused a moment. “I feel we are like an old couple. We see movies and plays together, we go for walks. Sometimes you accompany me to college events. Your friends as well as mine, often invite us together.”
Rahul smiled. “I’m nine years your junior, so we can’t be an old couple.”
Maya laughed. Then she said, “Seriously, Rahul. Where is this going?”
“Does it have to go anywhere? Why don’t we just enjoy what we have without any complications?”
Maya said, “I’m not getting any younger. I’ve passed the fifty mark. At this stage, I would like something permanent, some commitment.”
They were now sitting on the concrete ledge, the waves crashing against it. Rahul looked out at the sea. Maya looked at him, but his expression was inscrutable. She grabbed his arm and said, “What do you think, Rahul?”
“If you mean marriage, I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you ask Mukul and Radhika? They seem very happy. You have other married friends as well.”
“What do I need to a
sk? I know they are happy. But I don’t know if I’m made for marriage. There’s a finality about it that I’m not comfortable with.”
“If we were to settle down together, I wouldn’t even think of going to Canada,” Maya said.
“That is something that you have to decide.”
That was the end of the conversation, and when they took the bus home, they were both busy with their own thoughts, and hardly spoke. When Maya’s stop arrived, she said a quick goodbye and alighted. Rahul looked out the window and waved at her. She did not wave back.
In bed that night, many questions raced through Maya’s head. Does he not find me attractive enough? After all, I’m a fifty-year-old woman. Maybe he finds me physically repulsive. His body looks lean and firm at forty-two, but mine is soft, and beginning to droop. And of course, there is more grey in my hair than in his. Or, as he said, he simply does not want the finality of marriage. And it has nothing to do with me or my body. With that thought, Maya finally fell asleep. She dreamt again of the forest in the painting she had seen so long ago; once again, she and Rahul were sliding down the tree trunk to lie down together on the forest floor.
***
They had reached the airport early, worried about road closures and traffic. Rahul had helped her with her two large suitcases. Usha and a cousin had come to see her off as well, though she was only going to be away for six months; she wanted to see if she would like living in Toronto. She had reached that decision a couple of weeks after her conversation with Rahul at Marine Drive. He was not willing to commit to anything. She was not sure if it was a good idea to move to Canada, so this decision kept her options open. Her college had agreed to an extended leave of absence since Maya had found a substitute teacher for her courses. She was going to stay with her brother for a couple of weeks, until they found an apartment for her that she could rent short-term.
On her last evening, she and Rahul had dinner together. There had been so many farewells for her, and it had been a long time since they had been alone. Rahul had finally said something about his feelings. “Maya, I do care for you a lot, and I will miss you terribly. But, I don’t … can’t think of marriage….” he’d said, his voice a bit shaky.
“Are you shy about sex?” she asked, eyeing him curiously.
He looked down at his plate. “No … I don’t know…. I can’t see myself as a husband….”
“Have you ever been in a physical relationship?”
“Briefly, yes…. many years ago. But it’s not that. It’s the finality, the commitment.”
“If we get married, everything can remain the same. We can share a bed, but that doesn’t have to mean sex,” she said.
“You go to Canada, and see what you feel, whether you would like to move there or not. The time away from each other will help us think things through.”
She spent a very happy two weeks at her brother’s house in Toronto. She loved the fresh air, the open spaces, and the greenery. During that time, she had looked for and found a small apartment not too far from Nimesh’s place. Nimesh and Naomi helped her set it up, and then left her on her own. Maya got busy writing cover letters, updating her CV, and meeting people at schools and community colleges that Naomi had put her in touch with; Naomi was on the school board in Toronto. Nimesh was a cardiologist. Lisa was in her last year at high school, and busy with university applications.
Maya enrolled in a guidance counsellor’s course at the University of Toronto. She worked hard, and made a few friends. They talked while in school, but it never went anywhere beyond that. She was older than many of her classmates who naturally didn’t want to hang out with her. And the older ones had their own families to worry about after classes.
She saw Nimesh and Naomi only once every two to three weeks. They had their friends and Naomi’s family who lived there. Maya felt lonely, especially on weekends. Sometimes she cooked Indian food for Nimesh and took it over to eat together with them, but after the first few times, they did not seem as welcoming. Nimesh told her that though he loved to have Indian food occasionally, he did not want it so often.
She stayed in touch with Rahul by email and Skype. She missed him intensely. She longed for Mumbai, and the warmth of the people back home. Rahul was happy to get her emails and calls, and said he missed her too.
After finishing the diploma, Maya started a part-time job as a counsellor at a high school, going in about twice a week. Soon, she got an email from Rahul to tell her that he was working on an art installation project with another artist hired by the city. The art was for the Victoria Terminus station area, and it was huge. He was excited about it, and just wanted to share the news with her. The money, too, was good. They were to complete the work in three months.
Maya was happy for him. She told him that she had just started working at the school, and that she now had some time to explore Toronto and its surroundings. She said that she would visit art galleries, and would let him know if she saw anything interesting.
After a while, her motivation to explore the city wore off. It was a fine city, but she felt alone. Once or twice she could interest a teacher from the school to accompany her to an art gallery, or a visit to an outlying park. Time was running out, and she had to decide if she wanted to live in Toronto, or return home.
Maya was invited to Lisa’s graduation party, which was also a celebration of her admission to one of the best art schools in Canada. Maya remembered how much her niece had enjoyed gajjar halva on her visit to Mumbai, so she made a large quantity to take to the party. She dressed festively in Indian clothes, thinking that there would be a few other Indians as well.
Lisa opened the door when she arrived. After a moment’s awkwardness, as Lisa took in her aunt’s outfit from head to toe, she embraced her, and said, “Come on in. What do you have here?”
“I made you the carrot dessert you liked so much in Mumbai.”
“Mom’s in the kitchen. Why don’t you give it to her; she will know where to put it.” Then she ran off to her friends in the basement.
When she entered the kitchen, Nimesh said, “Maya, so glad you could come. Look Naomi, Maya’s got us some gajjar halva.”
Naomi looked up from the salad she was tossing, “Thanks, Maya. But we already have so much dessert. Let’s put it in the fridge for now.”
Nimesh guided her by the arm to the living room where the other guests were having drinks. Everyone stopped talking when they entered, some looking at her as if she had come from another planet. Nimesh suddenly became aware of what she was wearing, and looking a little embarrassed, he turned around and went to get her a drink. Maya broke the silence by talking to the people standing next to her, and slowly the chattering began again. But the rest of the guests left her alone.
After she had finished her drink, Maya mumbled an excuse and left the room. She looked out through a sliding door at the rain coming down. What am I doing here? she asked herself. Nobody seems interested in getting to know me. How will I ever make friends in Toronto?
Then she went into the kitchen. A couple of women were helping Naomi. Naomi exchanged glances with them, as they took food to the dining room. Maya felt excluded; she was not made to feel a part of the family at all. What was wrong with Naomi? She was unpredictable. She was so warm when she visited Mumbai, and welcoming when Maya had first arrived here. But now she was distant and cold. Should I have a talk with her one of these days? Or should I talk to Nimesh?
Her gajjar halva, which she had slogged over, was not out on the dessert table. When she asked Naomi, she said, “Not many people will like it here. They always find Indian desserts too sweet.”
“I did not make it too sweet, and both Lisa and Nimesh like it.”
“They can always have it later. Nimesh can take it for all his Indian colleagues at the hospital.”
She hadn’t enjoyed the evening. It had been tense for her, a strain. When she got hom
e, she went to bed confused and tearful.
Her assignment with the school was now over, and she had been offered a job with a community college as a guidance counsellor. This was a full-time position, and Maya had two weeks to accept it. When she spoke with Rahul he said that if she liked it there, she should try it for a year.
“Do you really miss me?” she asked.
“Of course, I do. Mukul, Radhika, and I had dinner together last evening, and we were talking about you. Radhika is expecting a baby. I hadn’t seen them in a while, because I’ve been working on the project till late in the evenings.”
“How is your living arrangement working out?”
“It’s fine. Chaya is often travelling during the week, so I have the apartment to myself.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if I accept the job or not,” Maya said.
One evening, she asked Nimesh to come to her place so that she could talk to him. Naomi was busy with a school board event that night anyway. Maya told him what was on her mind: what she felt at the graduation party, how lonely she was, and that they were hardly spending any time together though they were close family. And she now had an important decision to make.
“Why is Naomi cold with me? She was different when you came to India.”
“Naomi is a moody person, Maya. Also, when you came for the party you stuck out, with your Indian clothes and gajjar halva.”
“Well, I thought that there would be more of your Indian friends, and their wives who would be wearing Indian clothes. Lisa loves gajjar halva, and it was her party.”
Nimesh said, “You have to understand Maya, that we’ve had a life here now for twenty years. We cannot give all that up because you’re here.”
“No, of course not. I don’t expect that. What I did expect was being sometimes included in your life, since I’m family. I’m grateful for all the help that you and Naomi gave me when I first arrived, but I thought that there would be more informal dropping by at each other’s homes, and that we would spend more time together as a family.”