Authors: Madhuri Banerjee
Harshvardhan nodded his head. ‘Glad you could come.’ And then to Ayesha, ‘I hope you didn’t get too bored?’
Ayesha shook her head. ‘No. The whole evening was magical. You have wonderful plans.’
‘I got a little help with my idea,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
As Varun walked towards his car, she looked back towards the gate and saw Harshvardhan’s gaze linger on her a little more. Her heart skipped a beat and she wondered why. The man was almost a decade older than her and she was a married woman. Then why did she feel this peculiar attraction to this stranger? Maybe it was because for the first time in her life, a man of power had asked her for her opinion? A man who was learned and knowledgeable had taken her suggestion into consideration. Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at her that felt all wrong and yet so right.
‘Zor se bolo!’
‘Jai Mata Di!’
Ayesha looked around the room where there were women who were swaying to loud bhajans and singing with their eyes closed. She couldn’t believe she had let her mother-in-law drag her to another Mata Ki Chowki.
‘You have to do these things, Ayesha. Even if you’re an atheist, you need to do things for your in-laws,’ her mother had told her back when she had gotten married and refused to go for any religious function.
More than once she had argued with Varun, ‘I don’t believe in God. I believe in science. Why do I have to sit at these events? I don’t believe in them and they’re too loud.’
‘It’s not loud,’ Varun had replied. ‘It’s a calling to God. To Mata. It’s important to me.’
Ayesha had relented again and again, joining her husband and in-laws at religious gatherings. And again here she was, eleven years after getting married, still trying to please her in-laws, her own parents, and her husband. Everyone, it seemed, except herself.
‘Jai, Jai Santoshi Ma, Jai,’ Ayesha’s mother-in-law chanted with the crowd as she swayed to the music and covered her head with a beautiful, blue-with-zardozi-chiffon dupatta that matched her gawdy blue and gold salwar kameez. Ayesha covered her head with her pallu. She wore a lovely silk sari with a string of pearls.
Her in-laws had dropped in unannounced two days ago. They stayed in Ghaziabad. They came often and stayed with Ayesha and Varun to spend time with their grandson and meet their friends. Sometimes Ayesha’s mother-in-law, Suman Mathur’s, social life was so exhausting that she stayed an entire week or two before she went back to her own house. Ayesha was at the parlour when they had dropped in. They were furious that their bahu wasn’t at home and Varun had called to tell her to rush back immediately.
‘Mummyji, Papa, what a pleasant surprise!’ Ayesha exclaimed as she entered the door. ‘If you had told me, I would have stayed at home. I had to do some emergency grocery shopping. You know how the servants are, they can never pick the correct vegetables for Adi.’ Ayesha rattled off her words so her in-laws would not have a chance to scold her or complain.
See, marriage makes you smart. You learn to better understand the nuances of making your in-laws happy. One, you play the grandchild card: If anything that you did was for their grandchild’s benefit, they wouldn’t be as harsh on you as they normally were. With in-laws visiting, the equations always changed in the family. You no longer have a right to speak against your husband in front of them. You no longer have the free will to just leave things untidy or not bother about your children and the rules if you’re too tired. When the in-laws visit, a housewife always needs to be on her toes from morning to night to prove to her in-laws that they chose correctly for their son, who probably will not do any work around the house anyway while they praise him for being such a great son.
‘Where are you roaming about, bahu?’ her mother-in-law demanded an answer. ‘Why weren’t you looking after the house? And you don’t seem to be teaching Adi here any of our sanskriti! Where are this boy’s manners!’
Ayesha nudged Adi to his grandparents. The boy touched his grandmother’s feet and she pulled him up to a warm embrace. He was old enough to understand that he had nothing to speak to his grandparents about and he could sense they didn’t like his mother very much. It affected his relationship with them even though they bought him presents when they came and took him to eat at all the favourite junk food restaurants that were forbidden by his mother.
‘Mummyji, have you had lunch?’ Ayesha asked her mother-in-law. ‘There is some fresh food made in the morning. Bahadur would have laid out the table if you had asked him.’
Mrs Mathur looked at her disdainfully. ‘There was just chicken. Since when do you not keep any other vegetables or dal made for lunch? I’ve told Bahadur to make some aloo rassa, some bhindi ki sabzi and some fresh phulkas for us.’
Ayesha groaned inwardly. Varun and Adi wouldn’t eat any of the vegetables her in-laws had asked the servant to make who would grumble later to her about how his workload had increased. Their family always had some non-vegetarian dish for practically every meal and since she only ate one roti with whatever was made for the men in her life, they were used to eating only one dish.
‘Let me get the table ready then,’ Ayesha said as she walked to the kitchen to assist Bahadur. It was Savitri’s day off as well and she couldn’t believe her luck since her in-laws had come on the one weekend that she had given her help some leave. She thought it was going to be an easy day, as Varun had gone to play golf and would be back only by six in the evening and would be so tired that he would go to bed as soon as he had some pakoras and chai.
It was an unsaid rule that daughters-in-law should always have to work hard when the in-laws came because their constant approval would mean a stable marriage with her husband.
‘This is a great lunch,’ her father-in-law said, as he finished his meal. ‘Make something fresh for dinner, Bahu. Now that we’ve eaten this, it can be given to the servants.’
‘And at least for the next three weeks that we are here, get fresh vegetables. None of the frozen packets that you keep serving Adi for his tifffin,’ Suman said, as she wrinkled her nose and gave herself a sterner look.
Ayesha knew that not only her wine, but non-vegetarian food too would be banned in her own household for three weeks. As it had always been every time her in-laws came to visit. This is going to be a long month ahead, she sighed to herself. It is their son’s house, she reminded herself; not mine. They had more of a right than she did, as they presumed.
‘Bahu!’ Ayesha’s mother-in-law was calling out. ‘Where are you? Bina aunty ko hello bolo.’ And Ayesha came out of her reverie to quickly saunter over to her.
‘Hello, Bina aunty.’
‘Kaisi ho beta? Yeh nayi sari hai? Aaj kal dikhai nehi deti ho.’
Ayesha’s mother-in-law piped in, ‘Haan beta you must go visit Bina aunty.’
‘Next week,’ Bina spoke with great gusto. ‘I am having a havan at home. You must come.’
‘Of course we’ll be there,’ Suman Mathur replied for both herself and Ayesha.
Ayesha smiled while secretly wishing she could run away from the entire episode.
She said, ‘Actually Aunty, we’re taking a vacation so we might not be here at that time.’
‘Oh where are you going?’ Bina asked, impressed that the Mathurs had money to travel.
‘To Switzerland, Aunty.’
Bina looked at Suman with raised eyebrows. ‘Bade achche din aa gaye!’
‘Main nahin ja rahi hoon,’ Mrs Mathur said. ‘Sirf Varun, Ayesha aur Adi ko leke ja raha hai.’ She let out a deep sigh before continuing, ‘Ab no one wants us old people around at all. My son would have taken me alone. But he spent all his money on this vacation na. Ab honest IAS officers don’t make enough to take two vacations.’
Ayesha didn’t say a word though inwardly she wanted to scream that Varun had almost blown the entire vacation and it was Adi’s idea not hers to take a family vacation. But she continued with the small talk with the other aunties to whom her mother-in-law introduced her. She had met them before but since they all looked alike she never remembered their names. ‘Ji Aditya bilkul theek hai. Aur Varun bhi. Ji, khush hai. Ji aayie kabhi ghar pe.’
Soon the ceremony was over and Ayesha stood around while her mother-in-law spoke to her friends. Her mother-in-law and her were like chalk and cheese. While Suman Mathur had a vast social circle, Ayesha only had a handful of friends whom she liked to meet. While Suman was religious and loved going for satsangs and jagrans, Ayesha was an atheist who didn’t even talk about God to her child. And while Suman Mathur loved spending money on new clothes, Ayesha wore the same saris repeatedly to every function because she thought she should save money if her husband ever ended up gambling away all his earnings.
On the way home Suman noticed with a touch of sarcasm, ‘At least you could have worn a new sari. I would have lent you one.’
Ayesha didn’t say anything. Mrs Mathur continued, ‘Oh by the way I asked Savitri where your suits were. I’ve taken a few for Leela.’
Ayesha turned her head toward her mother-in-law. This was the umpteenth time she had taken her clothes without asking her for her daughter, Varun’s sister. ‘Leela won’t fit into my clothes. She’s broader.’
‘Koi baat nahin. Alter kar lenge. Hope you don’t mind.’ It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement.
Ayesha couldn’t say anything. The tradition the whatever the daughter-in-law had in the house went to the unmarried sister, remained forever. She had been giving her clothes since the day she entered her in-laws’ house. And even now when she was not staying with them, her mother-in-law took her clothes to give to Varun’s sister.
Ayesha knew she had only two options. Either she could shout and tell everyone that they could not touch her things anymore and she refused to give any of her clothes. Or she could just give in and let harmony remain in the family. Her father would buy her new stuff anyway. But if her in-laws got upset by her not giving her clothes, they would think she was selfish. Her father wouldn’t approve and there would be chaos at home.
‘No I don’t mind,’ she said as she looked out of the car window. She didn’t want to go home.
She had slowly been feeling it recently but she was always unsure; now she wouldn’t deny it anymore: she felt trapped. She couldn’t breathe. She needed a release. She was tired of playing the role of a dutiful wife and daughter-in-law when all she wanted to do was to be free and happy.
‘Happy birthday, Mama,’ Adi said as he opened the door to the master bedroom. He went to give Ayesha a tight hug. ‘Thank you, baby,’ Ayesha replied. Adi was getting himself ready for school that morning; he told Ayesha that was his birthday present to her.
Suddenly reminded, Varun mumbled in his sleep from his side of the bed, ‘Happy Birthday, Ayesha.’
Ayesha said politely, ‘Thank you.’
She got out of bed and stepped outside the room to find her in-laws just emerging from the guest room. She touched their feet and received their blessings for the New Year. She then went into the kitchen where Savitri was preparing breakfast. Without saying anything Savitri gave her a big hug and the widest smile. It was probably the kindest gesture Ayesha received from anyone. Soon her parents called and wished her and when she wanted to take the phone to her room to speak privately her mother-in-law said rudely, ‘Why do you need privacy? You can talk in here.’
And so Ayesha spoke courteously and cautiously and then kept the phone down. A few friends wished her as well. She felt good, almost able to forget all the negative feelings she was having just last night.
In the middle of the afternoon, she got a most surprising phone call from the office of the politician, Harshvardhan Singhania, in whose house they had attended a party a few weeks earlier. Luckily her in-laws were sleeping and she was alone in her room with the TV on when she got the call.
The politician’s secretary put him on the line after a few moments of waiting and Ayesha could feel her heart racing in the few seconds before she heard his voice. ‘Hello? Ayesha?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hi. How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’ This conversation is strange, she thought. Clearly she hadn’t told him when her birthday was so what was this call about?
‘Listen, I took your suggestion and I’m starting a metro train only for women. I wanted a woman’s perspective on it. And since it was your idea, I thought it would be good to get your opinion.’
‘Okay?’ she said, tentatively. She still had no idea what he wanted from her but she was extremely flattered that within a few weeks he had been able to take her suggestion into consideration.
‘Would you like to go for a ride with me on the new metro tonight?’
Was this a joke
? Ayesha thought. But he didn’t seem the type who would make light-hearted remarks.
‘Okay, I guess.’
‘It will have to be late in the night since the regular metro will be running through the day. Will you be able to come out then? I’ll have a car pick you up at ten o’ clock?’
Ayesha had never gone out that late in the night without Varun. She knew they would probably be home by then. Her in-laws had dinner early and she would be able to slip out later. She would have to make some excuse to her in-laws and Varun to be able to do so.
But this Harshvardhan was a stranger! Ayesha reminded herself. What was she getting herself into? But her mind told her to do it anyway. She imagined it would be something like being sucked in a black hole: where every light and happiness was sucked up. She hadn’t done anything exciting her entire life. Maybe she could go for a metro ride at ten in the night with a stranger she had exchanged a few words with some time ago. What could happen in a public place anyway, and with his bodyguards surrounding them?
‘Sure,’ she said, this time more confidently.
‘Superb. See you tonight.’ And with that he hung up the phone. Ayesha wondered again if a friend had just made a prank call. Was it a birthday present from someone? But he hadn’t wished her and he wouldn’t know. The rest of the afternoon was spent in thinking and re-thinking the scenarios of what she was about to do.
That evening Varun came home early and plonked himself in front of the TV. Ayesha asked him when they would leave for dinner. ‘In a bit,’ he said. ‘Let me unwind. There’s no hurry. It’s just seven thirty.’
But a full hour later he still wasn’t ready while the entire family had bathed and dressed and were ready to go. Finally they left at nine, and there weren’t many choices to discover as they couldn’t travel too far. Adi was hungry and so were Ayesha’s in-laws.
‘Let’s go to Sagar,’ Varun suggested. ‘Everyone likes south Indian food.’
Ayesha looked down at her clothes. She had worn a lovely new sari that her mother had sent. A beautiful choker and silver sandals. If they had to go to Sagar she would have worn jeans. Thankfully her mother-in-law said, ‘It’s Ayesha’s birthday. We can go someplace nicer. Where do you want to go, Ayesha?’
Ayesha was tempted to say the new French restaurant on Lodhi Road but she found herself saying, as usual, ‘Any place you would like. I’m not fussy.’ Why didn’t she open her mouth when she was asked, she wondered. Why did she so easily give in to the demands of the family? Her unhappiness was partly her own fault. Just because she went along with what everyone said, they expected her not to have an opinion on anything. And soon they were taking her for granted.
‘I want sizzlers,’ Adi said.
Sizzlers were Ayesha’s least favourite food. A slab of meat on some burning plate that always left your tongue scarred and your dress dirty from the flecks of sauce flying in all directions was something she just didn’t want.
‘We could have Thai food,’ her reply lacked a ring of finality.
‘Um…do you
really
want to have Thai? Ma and Papa don’t really like it too much.’ Varun was firm and didn’t even look in her direction.
‘Chinese?’ she offered.
Adi jumped up and down, ‘I love Chinese food!’
Varun seemed perplexed. ‘There aren’t enough options for vegetarian plates in Chinese food. What will Dadu and Dadi have, Adi? Let’s think about them as well. And I’m tired of driving now. We’ve reached South Extension. Let’s go to the Indian place here. It’s nice with good seating.’
With that he turned into the parking lot and everyone got out. Adi didn’t seem to mind as long as he had ice cream after dinner. Ayesha got out and straightened her sari. Varun walked ahead with his parents, talking to them about something while she trailed slightly behind. Then Varun turned and waited for her to catch up while his parents walked ahead to the restaurant.
‘Why do you always have to wear a sari, Ayesha? Can’t you keep it casual sometimes?’
She swallowed before answering, ‘I thought you liked me in saris.’
‘Yes sometimes. But just try to be your age. Why must you always be older than who you are? Here we are,’ he said as he reached the entrance and were seated by their host.
Ayesha felt upset. Her appetite was gone. She didn’t want to eat Indian food again. She had it at home. She needed a drink. She wanted a present. It was her goddamn 35
th
birthday. The least Varun could have done was appreciate her for what she had worn. Suddenly she remembered she needed to go out later that night, ‘Varun,’ she said, leaning towards him after they had ordered, ‘Pinky has arranged a little birthday party for me after dinner. She’ll send a car. Is it okay if I go?’
Varun didn’t look happy with the idea. ‘Will you be gone the entire night?’
‘No. Just after Adi sleeps. For a few hours.’ Her voice was shakier than she would have liked.
‘I didn’t know you were that close to Pinky?’ Varun was sceptical.
‘You know how you’re always telling me to get more friends. Now I’ve made one.’ She was annoyed that Varun was asking so many questions about a female friend.
Ayesha breathed a sigh of relief. As she nibbled at her food she reasoned with herself that if she hadn’t told a lie, she wouldn’t have been able to go. Varun wouldn’t allow her to go for a train ride with a politician. He hated them. They had made his life miserable by moving him from one department to another; even though it was a profession he had chosen.
Ayesha pledged that this would be the last time she would lie to Varun. That phone call had come completely out of the blue, as if the universe was giving her an adventure for one evening. It was to be the birthday present that no one thought of giving her. She would experience that and get back to her life as a devoted mother and faithful wife.
She would meet up with Harshvardhan Singhania, take the metro ride, tell him what she thought, and then the car would drop her back home. It shouldn’t take longer than two hours. She’d be curled up in bed before anyone even woke up.