Authors: Ariel Tachna
They settled Muthassan on the couch and Trent stepped back, hovering behind Nikhilesh. Muthassan tugged on Nikhilesh’s wrist to draw him closer. “Muthassan?”
“Do not deprive your mother of a wedding to plan.” He spoke Malayalam, so Trent wouldn’t have understood, but the words stunned Nikhilesh. They mirrored his deepest desire, if that was what Muthassan meant. Unless Muthassan wanted him to give Trent up and accept a girl of his parents’ choosing…. Amma and Achan wouldn’t do that to him after being willing to meet Trent in Chicago and to invite him for a visit, but Muthassan was the patriarch. If he didn’t give his approval, coming home again while he was alive would be unpleasant, if not impossible.
As he tried to figure out how to ascertain Muthassan’s meaning, the front door opened again as his mother came in, the tail of her blue and white sari trailing behind her. “Nikhilesh, you’re early!”
T
RENT
LET
out a deep breath when Leelavati breezed in, breaking the tension that had hung over Nik and his grandfather. She clung to Nik for several moments, but as soon as she released him, she reached for Trent. He let her surround him in a perfumed embrace. He’d only met her for a few brief days in Chicago six months ago, but besides Nik, she was the only familiar face in the room. Her welcome settled him. Maybe Nik’s grandfather or his uncles and other relatives wouldn’t approve, but she did. He could weather the rest with her and Nik’s father in his corner.
“I meant to have lunch ready for you when you got here,” she told him, “but my lecture at the college just ended. Let me change clothes and I’ll heat everything up. Do you like shrimp?”
“I love shrimp, aunty,” Trent said. He still felt odd calling Nik’s mother aunty, but both she and Nik had assured him that calling her Mrs. Sharma was too formal and calling her by her first name was too informal. Nik called all his friends’ mothers aunty, so Trent had accepted it as another cultural difference and tried to move on.
“Good. Susheela was worried about what she’d cook for you last night, but I assured her you’d eat anything she made.”
“Even pavakka,” Nik said with a moue of disgust.
“That’s because he has good taste,” Leelavati said with another hug for Trent. “Take your things to your room,
kutta
. Trent will want to settle in before lunch, and your brother will be here soon with the children. We’ll want the boxes out of the way before they get here.”
They carried the suitcases into one of the bedrooms off the main room. The decoration was much simpler than at the house in Ernakulam, just a bed and dresser in the small space. “The bathroom’s through there,” Nik said. “Same setup as in Ernakulam except it’s my parents’ bedroom through the other door, so don’t forget to lock it when you’re in there.”
He was babbling. Trent didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong out there?”
Nik shook his head. “No, it’s just….”
“Just what?”
Nik shook his head again. “Just something Muthassan said. It’s nothing.”
It clearly wasn’t nothing, but Trent wouldn’t get anything out of Nik when he was like this. He’d try again later when Nik had settled down some.
A burst of happy shouts in the living room drew their attention. “Nareshkumar chettan and his family must have arrived,” Nik said. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
Trent let Nik lead him back into the living room and the chaos of another four bodies in the relatively small house, even if one of them was an infant. Trent hung back while Nik greeted his brother and sister-in-law and his nieces, but it wasn’t long before Nik looked around for him and drew him into the conversation. “Trent, come meet my older brother. This is Nareshkumar.”
“Nice to meet you,” Trent said, holding out his hand. Nareshkumar shook it.
“Welcome to Alappuzha,” Nareshkumar said. “Nikhilesh talks about you often. This is Varsha, my wife, and my daughters, Swopna and Shilpi.”
Trent nodded at Varsha and bent down to talk to Swopna. “Hello, how are you?”
Swopna hid her face in the hem of her mother’s
churidar
.
“She hasn’t learned English yet,” Varsha said. “She won’t start school for another year.”
Trent stood up with a forced smile, feeling isolated once again. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“She’s shy by nature with anyone outside the family,” Varsha said. “She’ll come out when she’s ready.”
Trent kept his smile in place, but her comment stung. He wasn’t family, and the way things were going, he wasn’t sure Nik would ever want him to be.
Leelavati came back out of the bedroom in a loose caftan. She hugged Swopna, kissed the baby, and patted Nareshkumar’s shoulder. “Varsha, give the baby to Nikhilesh and come help me get the food ready. Nandini will be home soon, and she only has a short time for lunch.”
“Yes, Amma,” Varsha said. She handed her daughter to Nik and followed her mother-in-law deeper into the house. Before Trent could slink off to lick his wounds, Nareshkumar came up to him.
“Nikhilesh said you work together?”
“Yes, we’re both at Trustwave in Chicago. Nik works in threat management, and I do data security. And you’re an engineer, right?”
“Yes, in Thiruvananthapuram,” Nareshkumar said. “When Chirappu is over, you should come visit. You might be ready for a break by then. Amma has
plans
for the next few days.”
The way Nareshkumar said “plans” set Trent’s stomach to churning again. He swallowed hard, trying to bite back the panic welling in his chest, but he couldn’t find an easy way to retreat for a minute.
“Nikhilesh chettan!”
Trent watched a brightly colored blur race across the room.
“Careful, Nandini! I have the baby.”
“Well, give her back so you can give me a proper hug.”
Nik gave Shilpi back to her father and embraced his sister. She clung to him for a long time.
“No more staying away for ten years at a time. Do you hear me?” she said in a tearful voice. She switched to Malayalam after that. Nik hugged her tighter and buried his face in her hair. Trent looked at Nareshkumar for an explanation, but he didn’t offer one. Trent excused himself and went toward the bedroom.
Susheela aunty caught him before he could lock himself away until lunch. “Let me show you the garden. Chettan has many different plants and trees than we have in Ernakulam.”
Trent couldn’t figure out a polite way to refuse, so he followed her outside and retrieved his sandals before walking into the garden. Susheela pointed out the coconut and mango trees as well the pavakka vine. Trent started to relax finally in her undemanding company.
“Nikhilesh went to university in Chennai, to IIT, the Indian Institute of Technology. Most university students come home in the summer or for holidays, but Nikhilesh never did,” she said suddenly.
“Why not?” Trent asked.
“He told us he was gay the week before he left. His parents had started making arrangements for Nareshkumar, and Nikhilesh overheard them speculating about possibilities for him as well. For after he finished university and had started working, of course, but Nikhilesh didn’t care. The conversation didn’t go well. He was upset, his parents were caught unprepared, and nothing was really resolved when he went away to university. He finished his degree and left for Northwestern a few days later. This is the first time he’s been home since then.”
“I had no idea,” Trent said. “His parents came to see him over the summer, and everything seemed fine.”
“Because everything
is
fine now,” Susheela said. “We’ve had ten years to grow used to the idea. There are concerns, of course, but they’re not all that different from any parents’ concerns for their children. They want him to be happy. They want him to settle down with someone who will be good to and for him. They want the same for Nandini, and they don’t want Nikhilesh’s choices in life to have a negative impact on her prospects. They have accepted Nikhilesh, but that doesn’t mean Nandini’s prospective in-laws would be as open-minded. It’s not an insurmountable hurdle, but it does complicate matters. It’s less of an issue with his cousins, but even then, it could come up. He knows all this, and it’s one of the reasons he’s stayed away. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.”
“So do I make that better or worse?” Trent asked. “Not only is he gay, but he’s involved with an American.”
“He’s not involved with ‘an American,’ though. He’s involved with you.”
“I’m American,” Trent reminded her.
“Yes, but you took your shoes off at my door last night without anyone having to tell you. You ate with your hands—your right hand, not your left—at dinner last night with obvious familiarity. You liked my pavakka, and I know that isn’t something you had in Chicago because Nikhilesh doesn’t like it. You may have an American passport, but you don’t use that as an excuse to be arrogant or condescending. You respect our ways, or you have so far. That’s a far cry from being involved with ‘an American.’ He came home, Trent. We all know we have you to thank for that. If anything, we want to make a good impression on you.”
Trent wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had viewed the trip as a test, but if Susheela aunty was to be believed, Nik’s family saw it as a test for them, not for him. As if alienating him might keep Nik from coming home again.
“Aunty, lunch is ready!”
Trent looked back toward the house to see Nandini standing on the back stoop waving at them.
“Shall we go eat?” Susheela aunty asked. “Chechi made shrimp fry and kachiamoru. You’re in for a treat.”
N
ANDINI
LEFT
almost as soon as lunch was over, but everyone else settled in the main room with tea.
“Do you want to go into town before Chirappu starts?” Leelavati asked after a few minutes. “If so, you should go soon, while the shops are still open.”
“The shops aren’t open during Chirappu?” Trent asked.
“They are, but everything will be crowded, and who wants to spend your time shopping when you could be celebrating?” Varsha replied. “Of course we go to temple for our
puja
—
our prayers—but it’s so much more than that. You can shop anytime. Chirappu only comes once a year.”
“Will I be allowed to come with you for the puja?” Trent asked.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Varsha said. “The temple is open to everyone. We don’t practice intolerance here. Our friends are our friends regardless of their religion, and we celebrate each other’s holidays as we celebrate our own. After all, if they have a reason to celebrate, isn’t that a reason for us all to celebrate?”
“Of course,” Trent said. “It’s just not often I hear it expressed that succinctly or see it lived out.”
“Kerala is not your average place,” Leelavati said. “Literacy is the norm—the last statistic I saw said 99 percent of the population could read—as is tolerance. Kerala has never had problems with sectarian violence. Our religious leaders have made it very clear, jointly and separately, that such attitudes have no place in our beliefs or our lives. The children’s friends growing up were a mix of Hindu, Muslim, and Christian. For that matter, my friends growing up were the same.”
“That’s wonderful,” Trent said. “It makes me look forward to Chirappu even more.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Nikhilesh, do you want to go shopping for anything while you’re here?”
“I need a new pair of sandals,” Nik said. “And maybe Trent would like a pair too. Does Aysha’s uncle still have his shop near the temple?”
“He does. Let me change, and we can go. Varsha, do you or Swopna need anything?”
“We can find what we need in Thiruvananthapuram, Amma. We’ll stay here. Swopna needs a nap anyway.”
Leelavati went into her bedroom.
Nik rose as well and gestured for Trent to follow him into their room. “You don’t have to come out with us if you’d rather stay home.”
“And miss a chance to see the city?” Trent replied. “No way. I slept well last night, and I’ve eaten well. I’m ready for a walk.”
“Will you be comfortable walking in sandals? It’s hot, but the roads are dusty and sometimes rocky. Pebbles in your sandals won’t be comfortable either.”
“I’ll be fine.” Trent gave Nik a quick kiss. “Thank you for worrying about me, but you don’t have to. I’m adaptable, and if something is really a problem, I promise I’ll tell you.”
“You better.”
When they went back into the main room, Leelavati was waiting for them, in a bright red tunic and pants embroidered at the neck, sleeves, and hem with gold thread. “Not wearing a sari, Amma?” Nik asked.
“I wear one at the college and I’ll wear one to temple tomorrow, but for going shopping, a churidar is more practical.”
Trent wasn’t sure any Indian women’s clothing was practical. Beautiful, but not practical.
They walked down the residential street—a different one than they’d driven in on—lined with beautiful gardens and wrought-iron gates until they got to the more commercial area. Trent saw some bigger stores, the Indian version of department stores, but the streets were lined with far more stalls and stands than anything else. He could guess what some of them were from looking at the contents of the carts where they displayed their merchandise, but the curling lines of script above the stalls defeated his comprehension. He might speak English and decent Spanish, but here he was completely illiterate. They passed one stall selling bracelets,
pottus
, flowers, and more. Trent kept walking, but Nik stopped and went back. He haggled for a moment with the vendor and came away with a sprig of jasmine flowers.
“For you, Amma.” Before his mother could protest, he’d undone the clip in her hair and refastened it with the stem inside so the flowers hung over the knot of hair. “You should always have jasmine in your hair.”
“That’s more your sister’s style than mine,” she said, but she looked pleased at the gesture despite her words.
Nik just laughed and threaded his arm through hers. Trent trailed along behind, trying not to feel left out. Nik couldn’t hold his hand in public here, and he hadn’t seen his mother in months and hadn’t been home in years. Even if Nik could hold his hand, he would probably walk with his mother.