some cheap color for them at a discount. And what would they offer her to eat? Would she consent to eat anything at all? Would she show them that respect? And how should they all dress? As if for a wedding? Or more casually? “Respectably,” said Raju, to whom that word evoked the best images. “Respectably.”
And so they had planned and arranged and organized. Raju spoke to his daughter’s schoolteacher, who was awed and delighted at the prospect of a visit to her little school from such an important patron.
The day before the visit, he reviewed everything. And now, as he stood outside his employer’s house, cleaning her car as never before, he acknowledged that the only unforeseeable, unplannable catch in the whole event was May-dum herself.
His family probably envisioned her as a routine memsahib, traditionally and expensively dressed, preaching morality and good family values. And—uniquely—acting upon them too. What if, after all his talk and boasting, she disgraced him? As only she could—carelessly, in the things that were to her utterly trivial, matters of dress and feminine comportment. He would still be loyal to her, but his pride and prestige in his family and neighborhood would be lost forever.
The car was cleaned and ready and polished. Instead of following his usual practice of going around to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, he stood waiting expectantly, staring at the door. Yesterday she had said that she would be ready to leave around ten o’clock. He still had almost forty-five minutes to go, but he didn’t feel like wandering away, as if that might cause her to change her mind, or tempt her to sneak out of the house on foot or on her daughter’s small bicycle.
At ten minutes past ten, his heart sank. He scolded himself for getting his hopes up, for expecting this visit to actually happen. He hadn’t yet seen May-dum, but he’d seen enough to know that she wouldn’t be going anywhere that morning. Just five minutes earlier, the bungalow gates had opened to allow a car to come through. It was May-dum’s mother-in-law, come to pay a surprise visit. These could last anywhere from five minutes to a full day, depending on her mood and her daughter-in-law’s quiescence.
The elder Mrs. Choudhary vanished in a blaze of satisfaction down the drive, exactly one hour later. Raju began to feel nervous all over again. Would May-dum decide to leave now, or would she decide it was too late and that they would have to postpone the whole thing till the next day? Would he be able to? His family had used precious water to scrub themselves clean that morning, and they were all instructed to be on their best behavior. His wife had prepared a sweet and a savory with ghee, the clarified butter that he had bought specially for the occasion. The food wouldn’t last long in the hot weather. He didn’t know if he could marshal all these resources for two days running.
Shanti the ayah appeared. “She wants you to bring the car to the porch,” she said routinely. His heart skipped. He watched her walk back to the house, and was almost tempted to call her back. He hadn’t yet confided in any of his colleagues about May-dum’s proposed visit to his house. The very idea of it would be as startling to them as it was to him. Would they approve, or would they be envious? They were all good people, but Raju didn’t want even a hint of a jealous, evil eye cast upon this visit. Let it happen, he told himself. Then he would tell everybody.
He drove the car around to the porch, watching the door and wondering once again how she would be dressed.
The door opened. He heard her voice call out to the cook to bring her a glass of cold water. Two minutes later she emerged. Raju almost laughed in delight and relief. She was wearing a lovely
salwar khameez,
the full-sleeved tunic flowing elegantly down to her calves, her ankles modestly covered by the loose pants below, the crisp, transparent, shawl-like
dupatta
draped and
And so they had planned and arranged and organized. Raju spoke to his daughter’s schoolteacher, who was awed and delighted at the prospect of a visit to her little school from such an important patron.
The day before the visit, he reviewed everything. And now, as he stood outside his employer’s house, cleaning her car as never before, he acknowledged that the only unforeseeable, unplannable catch in the whole event was May-dum herself.
His family probably envisioned her as a routine memsahib, traditionally and expensively dressed, preaching morality and good family values. And—uniquely—acting upon them too. What if, after all his talk and boasting, she disgraced him? As only she could—carelessly, in the things that were to her utterly trivial, matters of dress and feminine comportment. He would still be loyal to her, but his pride and prestige in his family and neighborhood would be lost forever.
The car was cleaned and ready and polished. Instead of following his usual practice of going around to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, he stood waiting expectantly, staring at the door. Yesterday she had said that she would be ready to leave around ten o’clock. He still had almost forty-five minutes to go, but he didn’t feel like wandering away, as if that might cause her to change her mind, or tempt her to sneak out of the house on foot or on her daughter’s small bicycle.
At ten minutes past ten, his heart sank. He scolded himself for getting his hopes up, for expecting this visit to actually happen. He hadn’t yet seen May-dum, but he’d seen enough to know that she wouldn’t be going anywhere that morning. Just five minutes earlier, the bungalow gates had opened to allow a car to come through. It was May-dum’s mother-in-law, come to pay a surprise visit. These could last anywhere from five minutes to a full day, depending on her mood and her daughter-in-law’s quiescence.
The elder Mrs. Choudhary vanished in a blaze of satisfaction down the drive, exactly one hour later. Raju began to feel nervous all over again. Would May-dum decide to leave now, or would she decide it was too late and that they would have to postpone the whole thing till the next day? Would he be able to? His family had used precious water to scrub themselves clean that morning, and they were all instructed to be on their best behavior. His wife had prepared a sweet and a savory with ghee, the clarified butter that he had bought specially for the occasion. The food wouldn’t last long in the hot weather. He didn’t know if he could marshal all these resources for two days running.
Shanti the ayah appeared. “She wants you to bring the car to the porch,” she said routinely. His heart skipped. He watched her walk back to the house, and was almost tempted to call her back. He hadn’t yet confided in any of his colleagues about May-dum’s proposed visit to his house. The very idea of it would be as startling to them as it was to him. Would they approve, or would they be envious? They were all good people, but Raju didn’t want even a hint of a jealous, evil eye cast upon this visit. Let it happen, he told himself. Then he would tell everybody.
He drove the car around to the porch, watching the door and wondering once again how she would be dressed.
The door opened. He heard her voice call out to the cook to bring her a glass of cold water. Two minutes later she emerged. Raju almost laughed in delight and relief. She was wearing a lovely
salwar khameez,
the full-sleeved tunic flowing elegantly down to her calves, her ankles modestly covered by the loose pants below, the crisp, transparent, shawl-like
dupatta
draped and
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