Tea for Two and a Piece of Cake (18 page)

I sit for a while in my father’s armchair, thinking all about it, and then after a long time I decide what to do.

I call up Akash.

November Rain

I
t is 8.20 p.m. when Akash rings my doorbell, soaking wet from head to toe. The Mumbai rains are notorious, and even though I had assured him that I am indeed okay, he said he was coming over right then. It has taken him six whole hours to get from Fort (where his office is located) to my place. On normal days, it would have taken a mere half an hour, but just a few hours of torrential rains have ensured that Mumbai has come to a screeching halt.

It had started pouring just after Tanya came back from school, and I had immediately called up Akash, assuring him that I was fine and begging him not to set out in the rain. He had told me he wouldn’t and had asked me not to worry. I had believed him and forgotten about it then, as Tanya had excitedly started telling me that she had bagged a main part in her school play. She said she had been selected to play the part of ‘Puss’ in the story
Puss in Boots
. She animatedly explained the whole story to me and I had watched her in rapturous delight, revelling in maternal pride. It is strangely a universal
phenomenon that once you become a mother, you feel overjoyed even at the smallest achievement of your offspring. I guess in many ways, I was living my childhood through my daughter. Everything that I was not as a child, she was. She was smart, popular, outgoing, had tons of friends, and eagerly took part in everything at her school. I as a child was socially withdrawn, taunted, bullied, and never made friends. I am so happy for my daughter and I hug her. I tell her that tonight’s bedtime story would be
Puss in Boots
, to which she claps in delight and throws her arm around me and tells me, ‘Ma, you are the loveliest and best mummy in the whole world.’ I live for such moments. I
really
do.

So when Akash had rung the bell, interrupting our
Puss in Boots
, I was totally taken by surprise. For a few seconds, I just stood and stared as though I was seeing an apparition.

‘Nisha! You have a visitor!’ he says cheerfully.

‘Oh my God! Akash! I told you not to come.’

‘Mama, who is ringing our doorbell?’ calls out Tanya from the bedroom.

‘It’s Akash, baby. Go to sleep now, you have school tomorrow,’ I tell her.

‘Hi Akash,’ she calls out chirpily from her bed.

‘Hi angel,’ he responds with affection.

When she had started learning how to speak, I had asked Akash whether he wanted to be called Akash Mamu or Akash Uncle and he had been horrified. ‘Please, Nisha! I don’t want to be a mamu or chacha or even an uncle! I am five years younger than you!’ And he had insisted that Tanya address him by his first name.

‘But you haven’t finished the story, Mummy,’ Tanya tries feebly to postpone her bedtime by a few more minutes. What children have against sleep, I do not know. It is as though she will miss out a part of some great action, drama, which is happening without her.

‘Lights are off, baby, and you know the rules when lights are off. Sleep now. I will read it to you again tomorrow,’ I say, as I shut the door.

Akash is shivering now from the cold, his teeth are chattering, and he is slowly making a puddle on the floor of my drawing room.

‘Good Lord, Akash, I’d have given you a hug, but you are dripping wet. Let me get you a towel,’

‘Arre! What is the use of a towel? I need to get out of these clothes.’

‘Haan baba, but I don’t have any men’s clothes. I don’t even have a bathrobe.’

‘I can sit here in a towel,’ he smiles.

‘Shut up! You can wear my nightgown if you don’t mind,’ I say.

‘Hahahaha, yeah sure, and I can transform into Akash the drag queen. Muuuuah baybee,’ he says in a fake accent and a throaty voice, as he pulls a face and blows a kiss.

I laugh.

‘Actually, you can wear my track pants and a tee. The track pants might be short but at least it will be better than the laced nightgown,’ I say.

Akash is much taller than me. He is about 5’11’ whereas I am 5’4’. So my track pants end just above his ankles. He wears it with my bright pink T-shirt which
has two teddy bears and a large red heart in the centre and pretty white flowers all over, even though it is much too short for him. I laugh at the sight of him dressed in my clothes. Then I go over and give him a big hug. More than him, I need the hug.

I am so grateful for his company, so moved that he came all the way in the rain.

‘Have you had dinner?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, I ate a two-course meal while wading knee-deep in Mumbai’s streets filled with water,’ he says.

‘Very funny. Thanks for sending me on a guilt trip.’

‘Come on, Nisha. I came because I wanted to come. And yes, I am hungry. Do you have any food?’

‘No Akash. I cook just enough for the kids and me. But it’s okay; let me rustle up something for you. We can talk in the kitchen,’ I say.

‘This is quite a nice flat actually,’ he says, as he follows me into the kitchen.

‘Yeah, if you do not mind the paint peeling off the walls, the floor which is old and worn, and the rickety old furniture, then yeah, it’s nice. This is where I grew up,’ I say.

I remember the time when Akash and Chetana had first met me after my marriage, and how impressed they had been with the opulent house. Compared to that, this place must be feeling like a real dump to him.

But in a strange way, I am quite proud of it.

There is an awkward silence between us now, as we both do not know what to say about my situation. I don’t want to cry in front of Akash. It is still hard for me to talk about it.

Akash senses it and keeps quiet, as he watches me julienne the carrots and slice the garlic and the spring onions.

Ever since the children and I moved here, I have been experimenting with all kinds of cooking. Tanya is as eager as me to try out any new thing I make, and my fridge is always full of fresh vegetables, cilantro, herbs, cheese, and any other ingredient that catch my fancy at the supermarket when I go shopping.

‘Wow, you chop like a pro!’ he exclaims.

‘Wait till you taste it,’ I smile as I boil the noodles just right and run them under cold water so that they do not stick. If they are overcooked, they become a sticky, globulous mess.

‘So, how has life been post IIM?’ I ask. Akash had managed to crack the CAT exam the year I got married. He was delighted when he was placed in Hindustan Unilever (back then it was called Hindustan Lever Limited) on the very first day of his campus recruitment. He had stuck to the same company.

‘Yeah, I can’t complain. I got my promotion last month. I am now in the middle-management level and guess what I am? A “lister”,’ he says. He explains that listers are those people who have the potential to become future leaders in the organization and are the chosen ones for a fast-track growth in their career.

I am really happy for him.

‘You do deserve it, Akash. I am so proud of you,’ I say.

‘Far cry from our Parinita days, eh?’ he asks, as we both remember our time at Point to Point, eight years ago. It seems almost like another lifetime.

‘Yeah, we have come a long way. At least you have progressed from there. You have reached somewhere in life. But look at me. Eight years and I have achieved nothing. It is like I have taken four lefts from the centre and have reached back where I began.’

‘You have two angels, Nisha. Don’t forget that,’ he says, and I love him for saying that.

The doorbell rings, startling both of us. We wonder who it could be in this rain. It is Mrs Billimoria from next door, and this time she has brought along the most divine-looking chocolate mousse.

‘Thought you might enjoy this, dear, but keep it in the fridge. I also got you the letters that I had been holding onto,’ she says, walking in to place the mousse as well as the bunch of letters on the table, when she suddenly spots Akash and gasps in surprise.

I try hard to suppress my giggles, as he does look ridiculous sitting there, solemnly dressed in my clothes.

‘Mrs Billimoria, this is Akash, a good friend of mine. He is wearing my clothes because he got drenched in the rain,’ I find myself explaining.

‘Oh, hello,’ she says, and she hurries out without another word.

Akash and I collapse in laughter like two little children who have stolen cookies and got away with it.

Finally, when the laughing fit subsides, I say, ‘Let me go check on my cooking. It must be done.’

‘It smells heavenly, Nisha,’ says Akash and he is right. It does smell heavenly.

I set the table properly. It is a long time since I have done that. If it is just Tanya and me, we sometimes don’t
even bother to come to the dining table. We sit with food in our plates on the sofa and eat. It feels good to set the table properly and I take out the old crockery owned by my parents.

The end result is a really alluring and inviting meal and I watch quietly as Akash tucks into it.

‘Mmmm Nisha, you’re a goddess in the kitchen… too good,’ he gushes between mouthfuls.

I feel so happy with his compliments, and am beaming with delight.

After he finishes, he helps me clear up the table.

‘Goodness, Nisha, you have cooked a lot. There is so much food left,’ he says.

‘I am so used to cooking for large numbers when I am entertaining, that I really find it hard to just cook for one. Never mind, let’s put it in the fridge so that I don’t have to cook tomorrow. Besides, it’s been a long time since I cooked Chinese food for Tanya.’

Then I serve the chocolate mousse that Mrs Billimoria has brought and ask Akash if he wants to eat it in the balcony. It’s still raining, but the balcony is shielded well.

We carry our chocolate mousse and sit in silence. It is that kind of quietness which is comforting, but only if two people have known each other for a very long time and are happy in each other’s company. The rain is a slight drizzle now, and we watch the city lights shining and reflecting in the water, punctuated by one or two scooters and cabs slowly trying to limp back to life. Rains have a way of adding beauty to even the most common of scenes, transforming them into something almost magical.

We sit in absolute silence long after we have finished the mousse and finally Akash says that he should be getting back.

‘Don’t be silly! You stay here tonight. Do you want to be drenched on the streets for another six hours?’ I ask him.

He agrees that it would indeed be madness to try and go back to his place just then. So I make the bed in the other room (which used to be my room) and show him to it.

As I am turning to go back to my room, he says, ‘Stay, Nisha, let’s talk for a while more.’

The way in which he says it tugs at my heart. For a reason I cannot fathom, I sit beside him on the bed.

We talk for very long. Akash says that he was trying to figure out what it was about me that was different, and that I have really lost oodles of weight since the last time he saw me. He also adds that I am looking fantastic. He asks if I have been on a diet. I tell him that it must be all the walking I do these days with Rohit perched on my hips, as well as the housework that I have been occupied with lately. Secretly, I am very pleased that he said it, and I make a mental note to check myself out in the mirror—something that I stopped doing long back.

Akash also completely understands why I don’t want to take any money from Samir.

‘I would probably have done the same thing if I were in your place,’ he says, and my heart goes out to him, the second time that day.

I tell Akash that I want to start earning money now, and that I would not be taking any money from Samir,
after what Samir had said in his mail. But even as I say it, I know that I really do not want to take up a job, as I would hate to leave Rohit in a crèche, and I want to be there when Tanya comes back from school. I also remind Akash about the nightmare I faced eight years ago, when I had gone for a round of interviews after losing my job at Point to Point. I am so much older now, and I do not think I can really subject myself to interviews like that anymore.

Akash is quiet for a while as he listens patiently, absorbing every little detail that I tell him.

‘So basically, what you are saying is that if you can have a job where you can be around when Tanya comes from school, and where Rohit can be with you throughout, then you would want that job, am I right?’ he surmises.

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I want, but who would give me such a job?’ I ask.

‘You yourself would,’ says Akash.

‘What do you mean? Explain please!’

‘Wait and see, but just give me about ten days time,’ he says mysteriously.

I wonder what Akash has up his sleeve. I cannot think of any such job and he refuses to divulge details.

Akash and I talk for a long time. He tells me about the string of relationships he had, including two at IIM, after he left Point to Point. He has been through four breakups. I am surprised as Akash has never opened up to me before. Even though we have kept in touch all these eight years, he has not once mentioned any of this, even though we were good friends. I ask him why he
hadn’t told me all this before and he shrugs. ‘Maybe we never got a chance to talk like this,’ he says and it is true. I realize it is the first time we are meeting without Samir. Perhaps that is why Akash is more comfortable with being around me now.