‘That’s just plain silly,’ I say. ‘Did you tell him that?’ I mean, which idiot goes to a therapist to talk about the maids?
‘Well, no, because he said managing the maids was his problem, too. I thought you’d be pleased, Mrs Narain?’
Pleased? I am totally gobsmacked.
24 Oct
Now I’m really gobsmacked. ‘I’m stepping off the partnership fast track,’ says Sameer. ‘I’m taking the scenic route for now. Like you.’
‘You can’t be serious!’ My head reels. ‘This is what you wanted all along. What you chased after.’
‘Guess the things we chase after aren’t always the things we need.’
I think of all the maids I’ve chased after. Sameer can be most unpredictable at times. Profound, too.
‘I was missing out on too many things along the way,’ he says. ‘And I didn’t marry you so that you’d step aside for me. You need your work, and I need you.’
Sheryl Sandberg, are you listening? ‘So you’ll hold off on making partner for now?’
‘I’m in no rush.’
Just then, Tara knocks over her bowl of food. ‘She’s in no rush either,’ I say. ‘She’ll grow up very slowly.’
He hugs me. ‘We all will.’
‘Tea?’ I ask.
He grins. It’s the old familiar grin I once fell in love with. ‘Depends on who’s making it.’
25 Oct
I have just given a bonafide, able-and-willing-to-work maid away to Nina. But I’ve had enough of living with a maid. As for living without a maid? Been there, can’t do that either.
Farida and I are a pair of perfectly choreographed dancers, one leaving off where the other picks up from.
‘Got here as quickly as I could, Madam,’ she says cheerfully, ‘Picked my son up from school and gave him lunch.’
‘Can you take it from here?’ I shout as I hurry out. The Sceptic’s Legal team meets with Khandu’s people today. To tell them that we’re not backing down. And that there’ll be more from us in the days to come. Five follow-up stories, to be precise. Enough to shatter Khandu’s election prospects. And stop the dams.
And then it hits me like a jolt of electricity. There was a time when I couldn’t be in two places at the same time. Or hold it together when everything spiralled out of orbit. Or make every minute count.
And now I can.
Was I wrong to think of all these months as lost time? Could motherhood have swooped me up, chewed me to pieces and spat me out in a stronger version of who I used to be?
27 Oct
I’ve made a small list of things Sameer could help me with while we’re on the scenic route together.
So far, Sameer has ticked off three: coming home early twice a week to take Tara to the park; bathing Tara every evening; giving me my Saturdays off.
I’m being patient, because one day we won’t need a list at all. One day we’ll meet each other’s needs intuitively.
‘One day maids will line up outside your door for a job like devout Catholics come to see the Pope.’ Yup, that’s Sonia, reminding me that some things are impossible.
28 Oct
Which is why I swallow my pride and call Mom to propose three Grandma-in-charge days a week. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do on those days.’ That’s Mom being Mom.
‘And you don’t get to tell the maid what to do. Ever.’ That’s me being me.
That’s right. If motherhood has taught me anything, it’s how to deal with my mother.
Of course, the same dictum cannot be applied to one’s husband’s mother. MIL still watches Bearded Baba, maintains that the maids are overpaid, and calls her granddaughter Zara (when I’m not in earshot).
30 Oct
Met the gang for dinner, everyone but Nina, who has just sacked the maid I sent her way and found three more.
‘Big news!’ I shout. I tell the others about how CM Khandu has just announced his withdrawal from politics. ‘He’ll be back, I’m sure,’ I say, ‘but I’ll be waiting.’
‘I think we’ve created a monster here,’ says Bhavna, winking at me. I don’t mind, because I’m a happy monster, and that’s a new thing.
Even if Sonia is hogging all the credit for turning my life around. ‘It was that sperm theory that turned the tide,’ she tells everyone. That was only a microscopic part of it, but of course I won’t tell her.
‘I have bigger news than Anu’s,’ says Mansi, looking uncomfortable. ‘I’m having a baby!’ Of course, this flies in the face of everything she’s told us, and we come down hard on her. But we’ll forgive her for being such a hypocrite. Eventually.
‘What’s the goss on Aria?’ asks Bhavna.
So I tell them how Coco Chanel has experienced post-coitus calm at last and is expecting a litter of kittens. And how Aria is expecting a contingent of Filipinas. And a new husband.
‘So much for being maid-free and husband-free!’ snorts Sonia, her twinkling eyes settling on Mansi. ‘Too many hypocrites around these days!’
Mansi and I exchange a look. ‘That’s true!’ I say, and Bhavna smothers a giggle. We all know how straight-shooting Sonia softens her voice for her maid, Janaki, but we’ll let it drop.
‘Guess what else?’ I change the subject. ‘Pia has just accepted a plum post at Vogue. I guess no one knows how to get the Pia Prakash look better than she does!’
We all laugh.
‘And Eddy called and asked if I’d like to write a humour column about surviving motherhood. If I survive.’
But my chances of survival look good. I did not use the word ‘maid’ through the entire evening.
‘Is it true,’ says Sonia, ‘that Sameer and you are off on a weekend break next month?’
I nod proudly. ‘Without Tara,’ I declare. ‘I’ll be fine.’
I think.
THE END
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all my friends for sharing their stories. I’m not imaginative enough to have made this up. Special thanks to:
Priyanka and Megha for the long walks on which we sweated over Anu’s problems as if she were one of us;
Bhavna who chortled loudly through every re-read, I hope every reader out there is like you;
Sonia, for listening to my maid sagas with more patience than Dr Bhasker;
Priya, for taking on the tough task of telling me what didn’t work.
Uma, fellow author and friend, for all the support.
Kunal and Inder, for being the sort of guys who can enjoy a book from a girl’s point of view.
And particular gratitude to She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but is always here, in all my books.
About the Author
Payal Kapadia lives in Mumbai with her husband, two opinionated daughters and a variable set of equally opinionated maids in a flat where the sink is always full and the gas cylinder is always empty. She is the author of five children’s books. This is her first grown-up book, though there’s nothing grown up about it. She writes when:
• the girls are out
• the fridge is stocked
• the dhobi has come
• the missing football socks have been found
• the toaster works
• the maid is in
Maidless in Mumbai Page 16