The Madras Affair Page 8

  “My grandfather.”

  Sangita's eyes widened in surprise. “Are we talking about the Chairman of this hospital's trust?”“The very same.”

  “No wonder Dr. Sukumar was gushing all over...” Sangita clamped her hand over her wayward mouth. Her glance was apologetic. “I'm sorry. That was mean.”

  “Not at all, darlin'. You got that in a nutshell,” grinned Gautam.

  “I didn't know Ganapathi Uncle was your grandfather. He and my father are well acquainted. They meet at the temple almost every day. In fact, it was your grandfather who got me this job,” said Sangita.

  Gautam digested this information and stored it away for future reference. “It's a small world, isn't it?” he asked, his eyes roving over her beautiful face.

  She gave him a small nod before turning back to her work shyly.

  “Well then, ladies, time to go. See you both soon.” He gave a mock salute to Sangita before waving to Rithika and stepping out of the hospital.

  Rithika smiled in his wake before turning to her dear friend. “So?”

  “So, nothing.” But her blushing face told its own story. Rithika's eyebrows rose above in an arch. “Well, he's a great guy, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” Rithika asked with teasing smile.

  Sangita looked at Rithika, her eyes shining. “Alright then, he is.”

  8

  Sangita wasn't surprised to find that she was thinking about Gautam all the way home. She didn't seem to be doing much else these days. It looked as if it had become as natural to her as breathing. She had to call him that day, she promised herself.

  She went home to find Sandeep and Ramya playing in the small garden. She thought for a minute before an idea struck her. Her heart beat hard as she opened the gate into the compound.

  “Mummy,” shrieked Sandeep as he hurled himself into her arms, hugging her tightly.

  “Athai,” echoed Ramya as she hugged her aunt from behind.

  Sangita laughingly pulled her niece in front of her and went on her haunches to hug the two of them. She gave them each a kiss on their soft cheeks and said, “I've a surprise. Who can guess what it is?”

  “Ice-cream.”

  “Pepsi.”

  Sangita shook her head negatively to both the answers.

  “A new game?” asked Sandeep.

  “Circus,” added Ramya, not to be left behind.

  This also brought a shake of her head much to the children's chagrin. But they were having too much fun to give up the guessing game.

  “Hmm...a new dress?” asked Ramya.

  “Don't be silly,” said her macho cousin. “Who wants a new dress? I think it's something else. Mummy?” he looked at her curiously.

  Sangita watched her son's eyes light up in excitement. The dark brown eyes that were so like her own, shone brightly. “You brought a daddy?” he asked, his voice an excited whisper in her ear.

  Sangita was flabbergasted. Where had he got such a frivolous idea! Speaking to the kids had calmed her down after the excitement of meeting Gautam. Her heart picked up at double pace now. The picture of a blue-eyed man flashed before her mental eye. She closed her eyes briefly as if to get the image out of her head, only to find the etching getting clearer as she shut them. Sangita opened her eyes as she felt a tug on her arm and a hesitant, “Mummy?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “Have you brought a daddy?” asked Sandeep, his voice louder and firmer.

  “Now who's being silly, Sandeep? Your daddy died,” declared Ramya, unaware of the cruelty in her statement.

  Sangita looked from one child to the other, not knowing what to say. What had come over Sandeep? Why was he asking for a daddy after all these years? Had someone mentioned something at the nursery?

  Suddenly Sangita remembered that her mother tended to lament his lack of a father at regular intervals. Kids tend to pick up on adult conversations inadvertently. That's what had happened, she presumed.

  “Mummy?” Sandeep looked at his mother for reassurance. He ignored his young cousin's assertion.

  “No, Sandeep,” said Sangita, her voice choked. She cleared her throat rapidly and repeated, “No, Sandeep,” more firmly.

  The little boy tried valiantly to hold back his tears, in vain. He buried his face against his mother's shoulder to hide the large tears that rolled down his cheeks. He didn't want Ramya to see him crying.

  Sangita became extremely disturbed. She looked around helplessly, before saying, “Ramya darling, why don't you run inside and tell mummy that I'm home? I'll just come along in two minutes.”

  Ramya rushed in to do her aunt's bidding. Sangita rubbed her son's back, doing her best to console him. “Sandeep,” she called to him softly.

  Tear-drenched eyes looked at her accusingly. “Why didn't you bring me a daddy?” he asked his mother angrily, brushing his hand across his face.

  How could she explain to the five-year-old that 'daddies' weren't available in the market? Sangita took out a handkerchief to mop his face. He pushed away to demand, “Tell me.”

  “Sandeep,” Sangita spoke in a soft tone of voice, trying to pacify him. She was also careful not to make any promise that she wouldn't be able to keep. “Listen to me, darling. You know that Daddy's no more. Why the sudden question?”

  Soft hiccups shook the little boy's lean frame. He was quite tall for his age. “I know...Giri Daddy died...why don't you get me another one?” he asked her very reasonably.

  Sangita found herself between a rock and a hard place. She wondered how to handle this new problem that had sprung up, out of the blue.

  “Sandeep, I don't know about you, but I'm very hungry. I wonder what snack Rekha Maami has prepared.” Sangita tried to distract him with the change of subject. “I'm going...”

  “Poori and potato curry,” came the prompt reply. Her tactics had worked.

  “Oh good.” Sangita got up from her crouching position. “I'm going to eat first and then I plan to go to Children's Park. Whoever's interested can come along.” She started walking into the house, the invitation hanging in the air.

  From the corner of her eye, Sangita noted that Sandeep's eyes had brightened as he skipped along beside her, “Can I and Ramya go with you?”

  “Sandeep, it's 'Ramya and I',” corrected Sangita automatically.

  “'Kay, Ramya and I,” repeated Sandeep impatiently. “Can we go with you?”

  Sangita looked down at her son indulgently, pretending to consider his question seriously. Sandeep eyed her eagerly, the subject of 'daddy' forgotten for the time being. “I suppose I can take you both. Why don't you run along and tell Ramya? You both change into shorts.” She looked at her watch, “We'll leave in half an hour.”

  “We can go on the sliding board and swing?”

  “Yeah, sure and the see-saw too,” promised his mother, ruffling his hair.

  “Yippee!” Sandeep ran fast, his arms spread out, pretending to be an aeroplane.

  “Hi, Sangita.” Rekha greeting her sister-in-law with a smile on her face.

  “Hello, Manni,” smiled Sangita in return. “I'm planning to take these brats to Children's Park. Is that okay with you?”

  “Most definitely, my dear. Amma and Appa have gone to the temple. If you take the kids away, I'll be glad to have some time to myself,” Rekha smiled her pleasure.

  “Dinner?” queried Sangita.

  “Poori and potato curry should be heavy enough. We might have some thayir saadham after that. What do you think?”

  “Perfect,” agreed Sangita, walking into the large and airy kitchen. “I'll only have some coffee now, Manni.” She was too nervous to eat anything.

  Rekha looked at her sister-in-law curiously while handing her a cup of coffee, but refrained from passing a comment.

  Sangita sat on a dining chair, sipping her coffee absentmindedly. The usual chatter was missing as she mentally geared herself up to make the inevitable phone call.

  Rekha hovered around, saying nothing. It wa
s obvious that a small tug-of-war was taking place inside Sangita and Rekha didn't want to distract her.

  “Thanks, Manni. I think I'll go and change.” Sangita went up the staircase to the bedroom she shared with her son. Sandeep was just pulling on a pair of socks when she entered the room. His eyes shone with excitement at the treat in store.

  “I'm ready, Mummy,” he announced. Sangita smiled as she adjusted the collar of his bright yellow T-shirt before combing his hair.

  “Very good boy. Run along now and wait for Mummy. I'll be down by six.”

  “'Kay.” The aeroplane took off once more to share the update with his cousin.

  Sangita closed the bedroom door carefully and locked it. She went to the telephone extension beside her bed and lifted the receiver, a trifle nervous. She knew Gautam's cell number by heart. She dialled quickly before she changed her mind. She never paused to ponder over the strange compulsion to call him.

  Gautam was stepping out of his shower when his cell rang. His heartbeat quickened. He just knew who it was! He pulled a towel around his waist before rushing to the cell on the desk in his bedroom. A string of profanities emitted from him as the mobile stopped ringing the moment he touched it. Damn! He checked the number. It was a land line number from Adyar where Sangita lived. Should he call her back? Better not, he thought, recalling the look of fear in her eyes.

  He shook his head to himself while droplets of water fell down on the floor from his dripping hair. He tugged at his towel impatiently to rub it against his golden-brown locks.

  Sangita sighed in frustration. Where was Gautam? Look what happened when she gathered her wits finally and made the call! She shook her head in disappointment. She opened her cupboard to take a set of salwar kameez and matching dupatta in the palest of grey. Her movements were dejected.

  Why hadn't he answered the cell? Her eyes brightened. Maybe he had been in the toilet or shower? Sangita decided to try just one more time. She felt like an addict craving for her next fix.

  Gautam was pulling on a pair of shorts when his cell rang again. He almost tripped over in his hurry to reach it. “Hello?” It was the same number.

  “Hello, Gautam?” Sangita's voice was a husky whisper. He sagged against the divan as his heart pounded in excitement.

  “Sangita!” he growled his pleasure, his voice gruff. “It's wonderful hearing from you.”

  Sangita wiped the trickle of sweat running down her face. Now that she had made the call, she didn't know what to say. The idea that had appeared sensible earlier seemed foolish now. What to tell him? She smote her forehead in frustration.

  “So, tell me, darlin', what do you plan to do this evening?” he asked, giving her the perfect opening.

  She took a deep breath before jumping into what felt like the boxing ring. “Gautam,” her voice was breathless as if she had just completed the two hundred metres at the Olympics, “I'm planning to take the kids to Children's Park. Could you...I mean would you...I...Gautam...” Sangita cleared her throat delicately before making another attempt at wording herself clearly. “Gautam...”

  “Would you like me to meet you there?” he took the words out of her mouth. “Most definitely 'yes'; I'd love to. Just tell me the time.”

  Sangita felt a frisson of pure thrill dancing along her nerves at his enthusiastic response. “I plan to leave home by six. Should reach there in ten minutes. Will you meet us near the sliding board?”

  “I'll meet you there for sure.”

  “See you then.”

  “Bye, darling. And Sangita,” Gautam added, “Thanks for thinking of me.”

  She couldn't tell him that her motives were purely selfish. “Gautam...” Sangita hesitated, wondering how exactly to word the next sentence. “Please understand that our meeting's supposed to be by chance. I didn't call you.”

  Just for a second Gautam felt anger at the subterfuge. He pushed it away and decided to take things as they came. He shrugged his wide, bare shoulders. Suddenly realising that Sangita couldn't see him, he said, “Not to worry, Sangita. Your secret's safe with me. See you then.”

  He pulled on the first T-shirt he could lay his hands on and turned around to comb his hair in front of the dresser. He grimaced at his reflection. He looked as ragged as one of his own students. He pulled off his clothes in a hurry and wore a pair of black jeans and a forest-green T-shirt. Pulling on a pair of socks, he thrust his feet into his sneakers. He fumbled with the shoelaces as his hands trembled. He felt as nervous as a teenager on his first date. He lifted his belt and fitted it into the loops. He stopped midway to stuff his purse, cell phone and a fresh handkerchief into the many pockets of his jeans. Opening a drawer, he removed his large silver watch and clamped it on his left wrist while rushing out of his room. He completed buckling his belt and locking his watchstrap on the way down, whistling to Butterscotch.

  Ganapathi sat back on his recliner to look at his grandson who was prancing about in nervous excitement. He gave up watching his favourite soap opera on TV to devote his attention to the real-life drama unfolding in front of him.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  Gautam walked closer to Ganapathi before giving him an answer. He placed both hands on the arms of the recliner, and bending down to the old man, said, “Yes, Thatha, I'm goin' out.”

  “With Butterscotch?” The old eyes twinkled merrily.

  “With Butterscotch.”

  “Are you sure that you want to take a gooseberry along?” Ganapathi had correctly guessed that Gautam was meeting Sangita. The younger man's body language was proof enough.

  “Well, this gooseberry's company for a couple more from the other side,” Gautam answered cheekily.

  “Tell me about Sangita,” ordered Ganapathi.

  “Thatha,” Gautam sighed exaggeratedly, “I need to leave.”

  “Where do you have to go?”

  “Children's Park.”

  “What time?”

  “Are we playing twenty questions?” asked Gautam sarcastically. “I've been on many dates before, Thatha. You've ne'er been so curious,” he protested.

  “Well, those times it was obvious that your interest was passing. Now that I know how serious you are...”“You do?”

  Gautam's eyebrows almost touched his hairline.

  “Of course I do. I...”

  “Thatha, will it be too much to expect to be left alone? Leave me in peace, please.” Gautam requested his grandfather, his eyes spitting blue fire at the wicked, old face in front of him.

  Ganapathi was enjoying himself too much to give up. “But Gautam,” he protested, “I'm only trying to be of help. Tell me what time you have to meet Sangita.” Ganapathi was persistent.

  “6.20,” Gautam bit out impatiently.

  “There's a lot of time. Come and sit down next to me,” Ganapathi patted the sofa near him, “and have a shot of brandy to calm your nerves,” he offered solicitously.

  Gautam looked at his watch before accepting his grandfather's offer. Butterscotch came and lay down at his feet, thumping his tail rhythmically. “I'll take you out in the car in a short while, fella,” he promised his pet who stared up at his master adoringly.

  “Now tell me about Sangita,” commanded Ganapathi.

  “You're a persistent old man, aren't you?” grumbled Gautam affectionately. “I know, I know,” this as Ganapathi went to open his mouth to say something, “you only want to help.” Gautam grinned at Ganapathi cheekily before obliging him.

  “Sangita works at Trilok Hospital, in the reception. She's lovely, Thatha.” Gautam's eyes turned dreamy as he recollected Sangita's face and figure. Ganapathi snapped his fingers in front of his grandson's face to recall his attention.

  “Thatha,” protested Gautam.

  “Get back to the tale, you might get late otherwise,” advised Ganapathi.

  “Well, she's been married before. Her husband's no more. She has a small son...”

  “Is she Gopal's daughter, by any chance?” Ganapathi interrupt
ed Gautam's narrative.

  “Who's Gopal?” asked Gautam.

  “Sangita's father, maybe?” countered Ganapathi, his eyes dancing.

  “Very funny, Thatha. Will you get to the point?”

  “Well, a few years back, I helped this girl called Sangita get a job at the hospital. Her father's a friend of mine. I meet him almost every day at the...”

  Gautam snapped his fingers as memory flooded him. He remembered what Sangita had told him at the hospital earlier in the evening. She hadn't mentioned her father's name though.

  He looked at Ganapathi excitedly. “Do you know her father?”

  “Whose father?” teased Ganapathi.

  “Thatha,” Gautam's voice was impatient. “Sangita's of course, who else's?”

  “How do you know that we're talking of the same girl?” Ganapathi challenged.

  Gautam repeated the conversation he had had with Sangita earlier.

  “Do you really know her father, Thatha? But this is great. Is he really as strict as Sangita says? She seems petrified of her parents.”

  “Worse, my dear. Gopal's a friend of mine, alright. But he and his wife Radha are terribly old-fashioned and extremely orthodox.” Ganapathi paused for a few seconds before continuing, “You don't know what the poor child underwent when her husband died in an accident.”

  A scowl gathered on Gautam's forehead as he listened to his grandfather. He didn't like the idea of Sangita's suffering, even if it had been in the past. A fierce feeling of protection rose in his heart.

  “They wanted to shave off her head as in the olden days. They...”

  “Don't tell me.” Gautam was shocked to the core of his being. Those lovely tresses shorn off? He couldn't imagine anything worse. What were her parents? Demons? Gautam's blood boiled. “Are they crazy? Such an old ritual at the end of the twentieth century?” He shook his head in amazement.

  “Try telling them that, my boy. They wanted her to go around in white clothes.” Sangita's white saris flashed before Gautam's mental eye. “Thank God for the negligible amount of influence I have over Gopal. I put my foot down at shearing off her hair. Radha, her mother, didn't speak to either me or your grandmother for months together for putting a stop to it.”