Page 12 of No Other Love
‘Right,’ I murmured.
Anika frowned. ‘Is everything okay? With you? Your parents?’
I grasped at the question with both hands. Gave the easiest answer. ‘Actually, no. Baba, my father... had an angioplasty last month.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ She sounded sincere. ‘I hope everything’s okay now? His meds are working out fine?’
I fiddled with the napkin holder. ‘Yes, he’s fine now. He’s grouchy about the no-salt, no-spice diet but fine, otherwise. Aai’s shaken up. She can’t believe her husband almost died.’
Anika shrugged. ‘That’s ridiculous. Angioplasty’s practically an outpatient procedure now, it’s become so common. There’s nothing for your mom to worry about.’
‘That’s what I keep telling her. But you know how she gets.’ I gave her a semi-apologetic shrug.
‘Yeah.’ Anika nodded shortly. ‘I can imagine.’
I almost sighed out loud. She was probably right in thinking my mother, who’d graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Home Economics from the local college in Aronda and never stepped foot beyond Goa, was a wreck. She was also a typical Indian woman of her generation – she didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve – choosing to suffer and die on the inside.
Unlike Anika.
‘Anyway, I came to see you because of them.’
‘Okay.’ She was cautious, I could hear it in her tone, see it in the stiffness of her shoulders. She was braced for one more attack.
I was hollow with grief that we’d somehow ended up here. Sorrier than I could ever tell her.
‘It’s Ganesh Chathurthi next week and you know we rotate between Jiten Kaka, Ramesh Kaka, and my home to keep the murthi.’
‘Yeah, I remember.’ Anika’s face softened.
I recalled that my extended family, my uncles and their wives and their children, adored Anika. She was feisty and fun, and she’d willingly pitched in in decorating their homes when I made her go home for a week of pujas and rituals. She didn’t even bitchme out for making her wear thenavvaariandnatth– the typical Maharashtrian attire for religious festivals.
In fact, she’d made unraveling the nine-yard sari into a striptease and I had…
‘Earth to Vikrant.’ Anika snapped her fingers and brought me back to the present. ‘You have a little drool coming out of your mouth, dude.’
I straightened up and ripped the bandage off the truth. ‘So, the family’s decided that because of dad’s attack it would be too much stress to keep the function at our family home. So, we’re moving it to my place.’
Her face pinched in confusion. ‘I thought Aai-Baba had moved in with you.’
‘No,’ I said shortly. ‘They didn’t. They still live in the old home.’
‘Oh.’ She paused for a second to process that information. And I remembered the biggest fight we’d ever had; it had been about this exact issue. Anika’s refusal to ‘adjust’ with my conservative, god-fearing parents. ‘I see.’
But she didn’t see anything, and I knew it.
‘Anyway, so I was hoping you’ll come back for this one week and help with the function. Guests will be coming and going from morning to noon and Aai’s stressed out between taking care of Baba and the cooking and everything.’
‘I…’ She bit her lip, and I wanted to do the same.
Calm the fuck down, Vikrant.
‘Your parents hate me, Vik,’ she whispered.
Age-old hurt and unresolved grief lighted her eyes from the inside. My parents were bewildered…confused, when I brought Anika home for the first time. They were simple, traditional people. Dad was the local school’s principal, my mother a housewife.
They didn’t get a girl who danced in the backyard when no one was looking.
They definitely didn’t approve of her.