the Catholics next,’ Preeti said just as the key turned in the lock and Deepak arrived.
Preeti went up to Deepak, cupped his stubbly cheek in the palm of her hand. ‘Come and have dinner first. I’ve made your favourite mutton curry. Then we’ll talk.’
Afterwards, when they had finished the mutton, the pulao and plump, juicy rasagullas, and after they had worried about the Hindu-Muslim unrest in Mangalore, Deepak leaned back wearily in his chair. ‘What is happening to my family, Preeti?’
Preeti reached across and laid her hand on Deepak’s. ‘She sounded so distressed, Deepak. So unlike herself.’
The sniffling. Aunt Anita didn’t have a cold. She had been crying.
‘Divorce. How could she even think about it? After everything that’s happened…’ Deepak ran his fingers through his hair.
An image of Mrs. Gupta, her button eyes bulging, ranting on about the pathetic decline of Indian morals flashed before her eyes. The cloying scent of rasagullas mixed with the spicy smell of congealing mutton curry rose to her nostrils, making her uncomfortably aware of her heavy stomach, too full of pulao and mithai and noodles.
‘I didn’t know anything was wrong. Last time I spoke to her, she and Uttam seemed so happy and were planning so many things together. Mind you, that was a year ago...’ Preeti sighed. ‘I should have called her. But you know how it is; you blink and a year’s flown by...’
‘This will be the last straw for Ma… She’s already so fragile…Whatever happens, we should try and keep it from her. Reena, when you talk to Mai, not a word, okay? Don’t even mention that Aunt Anita is staying with us.’
‘Okay.’ Reena nodded her assent vigorously.
Preeti laid a hand on his arm. ‘Deepak, Anu’s in a state. She’s turned to you for comfort. Be nice to her. No lectures about how she’s destroying the family name—promise?’
‘I’ll try.’ Deepak looked sheepish.
Preeti’s voice, tentative: ‘Family name, honour… It doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does, Deepak. People will talk for a bit, and then forget, move on to the next thing…’
Bang. Deepak brought his hand down on the table, hard, making the dishes clatter, the congealing curry spill. ‘It does to me. To Ma. In Taipur, it is a big deal. We, the Diaz family, are a big deal. You know that, Preeti. We cannot allow anything to sully our name. Not a whisper of a rumour. Nothing. As it is, Anu caused enough talk, insisting on marrying Uttam, upsetting Ma, reducing her to half of what she was, leaving her open to insults and barbs. Anita took after Ma, they said. Da married beneath him, they said. Do you know what it did to Ma, being voted out of the parish council committee when Anu married Uttam? She doesn’t show it, just holds her head up high. But I know… I know… And now…’ He laid his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, what a mess...’
From where she was sitting, Reena could see the top of her father’s head, and it shocked her to find a little bald patch around his crown. ‘What does it mean to marry beneath you?’ she asked.
Her dad looked up at her, eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he was going to fob her off. Then, he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘You are growing up; you need to know,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Preeti? Shall we tell her Mai’s story?’
Her mother nodded.
‘Come, sit here,’ her dad said, patting the chair beside him. ‘Your Mai’s father was an alcoholic, her mother a shrew. Her family was the laughing stock of the whole village. Her father used to drink and sleep on the street. When she was ten, a bus ran over him. Her mother was so grief-stricken that she went mad, literally lost her mind. Your Mai had to grow up in a convent.’ Her dad paused to take a breath.
Poor Mai, thought Reena. To lose her parents like that when she was just a year younger than Reena; to be sent to live in a convent,
Preeti went up to Deepak, cupped his stubbly cheek in the palm of her hand. ‘Come and have dinner first. I’ve made your favourite mutton curry. Then we’ll talk.’
Afterwards, when they had finished the mutton, the pulao and plump, juicy rasagullas, and after they had worried about the Hindu-Muslim unrest in Mangalore, Deepak leaned back wearily in his chair. ‘What is happening to my family, Preeti?’
Preeti reached across and laid her hand on Deepak’s. ‘She sounded so distressed, Deepak. So unlike herself.’
The sniffling. Aunt Anita didn’t have a cold. She had been crying.
‘Divorce. How could she even think about it? After everything that’s happened…’ Deepak ran his fingers through his hair.
An image of Mrs. Gupta, her button eyes bulging, ranting on about the pathetic decline of Indian morals flashed before her eyes. The cloying scent of rasagullas mixed with the spicy smell of congealing mutton curry rose to her nostrils, making her uncomfortably aware of her heavy stomach, too full of pulao and mithai and noodles.
‘I didn’t know anything was wrong. Last time I spoke to her, she and Uttam seemed so happy and were planning so many things together. Mind you, that was a year ago...’ Preeti sighed. ‘I should have called her. But you know how it is; you blink and a year’s flown by...’
‘This will be the last straw for Ma… She’s already so fragile…Whatever happens, we should try and keep it from her. Reena, when you talk to Mai, not a word, okay? Don’t even mention that Aunt Anita is staying with us.’
‘Okay.’ Reena nodded her assent vigorously.
Preeti laid a hand on his arm. ‘Deepak, Anu’s in a state. She’s turned to you for comfort. Be nice to her. No lectures about how she’s destroying the family name—promise?’
‘I’ll try.’ Deepak looked sheepish.
Preeti’s voice, tentative: ‘Family name, honour… It doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does, Deepak. People will talk for a bit, and then forget, move on to the next thing…’
Bang. Deepak brought his hand down on the table, hard, making the dishes clatter, the congealing curry spill. ‘It does to me. To Ma. In Taipur, it is a big deal. We, the Diaz family, are a big deal. You know that, Preeti. We cannot allow anything to sully our name. Not a whisper of a rumour. Nothing. As it is, Anu caused enough talk, insisting on marrying Uttam, upsetting Ma, reducing her to half of what she was, leaving her open to insults and barbs. Anita took after Ma, they said. Da married beneath him, they said. Do you know what it did to Ma, being voted out of the parish council committee when Anu married Uttam? She doesn’t show it, just holds her head up high. But I know… I know… And now…’ He laid his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, what a mess...’
From where she was sitting, Reena could see the top of her father’s head, and it shocked her to find a little bald patch around his crown. ‘What does it mean to marry beneath you?’ she asked.
Her dad looked up at her, eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he was going to fob her off. Then, he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘You are growing up; you need to know,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Preeti? Shall we tell her Mai’s story?’
Her mother nodded.
‘Come, sit here,’ her dad said, patting the chair beside him. ‘Your Mai’s father was an alcoholic, her mother a shrew. Her family was the laughing stock of the whole village. Her father used to drink and sleep on the street. When she was ten, a bus ran over him. Her mother was so grief-stricken that she went mad, literally lost her mind. Your Mai had to grow up in a convent.’ Her dad paused to take a breath.
Poor Mai, thought Reena. To lose her parents like that when she was just a year younger than Reena; to be sent to live in a convent,
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