The Benefit Season Read online

  ‘Your mom, dork!’ she says, pulling my finger out and indulgently licking it clean. ‘The poor man was complaining she doesn’t let him pick anything.’

  ‘No one should trust his choice. Or for that matter him.’

  ‘He goes to this store and fills up his cart with baby clothes! And we don’t even have babies- at least not yet’.

  ‘We don’t? How do you tell?’ my gaze strays to the billboards outside, across the street, over the tumbledown buildings to the dark mangroves lurking in their shadows, and the pools of swirling waters in the high tide and, pressed against a tree a naked Monal, creamed with the seed of a man spoken for by another. Forgive me O lord for I have sinned. And shall sin again. And again. For the call of Sodom and Gomorrah is great indeed and I hearken closely. The spell is cast on me and I am slave to my own flesh.

  ‘And he picked out ten odd suits for you- all of the same color, and different sizes!’

  ‘He could have gone for different colors too’.

  ‘I don’t believe you!’ Aarti says, giggling, keeping the talk in play. ‘He even picked out honeymoon tickets for us. Guess for where’.

  ‘Somewhere by the sea shore, where it’s windy and there are mangroves and swirling pools of muddy water mixed with dead fish and flotsam?’

  ‘Nooo…even worse! He was going to get us train tickets and a booking in the army mess in the brigade he commanded at Jamnagar! Imagine soldiers bringing in tea at six in the morning and serving up army rations. That’s gross!’

  ‘Yeah - even for him’.

  ‘Thank god mom got wind of it and nicked his designs’.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a mom?’

  ‘I always had a mom, silly, only she’s no more. I was referring to your mom. And you get to call dada, dada’.

  ‘I’ll refer to him as the one you don’t speak of. I’ll get him a tie for Father’s Day if you insist. But no more- thank you.’

  ‘I insist’, she says. And before she can carry on with the parlay, a loud crack draws our attention. The Parsi lady’s walking frame has snapped while rising and she has collapsed back in her chair. She is examining the broken frame helplessly and is close to tears. Too proud to seek help, she shakily tries to rise on the remaining aluminum stump, but can’t. She leans the stump against her table and hangs her head in embarrassment; twisting her stole around her knotted fingers. Everyone has seen what happened but no one comes forward to help. People look away as she raises her head and glances furtively around.

  ‘Excuse me’, Aarti says and strides over to the lady. She bends over and then sits next to her on the empty chair. She beckons to me.

  ‘Can you please bring the car around? She lives in the next block,’ Aarti pleads.

  I pinch her cheeks and nod.

  The lady beams happily at me; ’thank you’, she says, looking relieved. I smile down at her and walk out to fetch the car.

  It is such random acts of kindness that keep me anchored to Aarti. She is the solid ground beneath my feet, the studded crown on my head; I bask in her unending goodness and compassion and joie de vivre. I am again reminded of what a stroke of good luck it is for a sap like me to have her in his life. What was I even thinking? Lose this gold standard girl over an unscrupulous married woman? Swap a dignified living with a lifetime of jumping through hoops held up by a dark enchantress?

  I am saved! From stepping blindfolded off a cliff! From hurting the very people I love- most of all myself!

  I turn on my feet and head back into the café. Aarti rises to her feet. ‘Back already’, she asks.

  I grab her in a tight embrace and kiss her hair.

  ‘What happened?’ Aarti wriggles out of my embrace- a little embarrassed with the attention we are getting- a little amused with the hangdog expression on my face.

  ‘I just came back to make sure you’re still there, waiting for me. I’ll get the car now’. I turn and head out to the parking lot, leaving two very surprised ladies behind.

  I know what I have to do now. I must avoid that bewitching adulteress at any cost if I don’t want to wreck my life any more than I have already. But by the time evening falls the specter of Monal rises to torment me again. The snaky memories of hers entwine around me and squeeze the wits out of me.

  It is time to seek wise counsel of a trusty low-wage earner; I call out to the mom. ‘Yo, diaper changer, maker and provider’!

  ‘Yo Yo, apple o’ the eye, fruit o’ the earth. What blows the ship homeward this day; what trouble brews over yonder waters? What foul wind blanches the fair cheek?’

  ‘Aw c’mon mom, I call you every day. Don’t make up stuff of theater’.

  ‘It is so, ‘tis so. So how’s Aarti?’

  ‘Aarti! Aren’t I supposed to figure first when you read from left to right your brood?’

  ‘If she’s fine I know for sure you will be too: thus the question, my crib-absconder’.

  ‘Well she seemed pretty rosy to me the last I saw her- she was picking up the pieces of an old lady off a coffee table and having me deliver the package home’.

  ‘That’s my girl, always to the fore. Now tell me quickly what a good boy you’ve been so I can go back to my tipple; Khosla- remember him- the father of the bride, is here, drowning the sorrows in our scotch.’

  ‘Khosla! What do they think- the mom comes as the dowry? Aren’t you drinking too much these days ma?’

  ‘Naah. I only drink a bottle a day-‘

  ‘Maa!’

  ‘-Of soda, and whatever else that goes with it- gin, vodka or plain whisky’.

  ‘Keep away from him- he’s bad company’.

  ‘He spawned Aarti, didn’t he? He’s good for me’.

  Mom has that simple logic which arranges most things in life in neat little compartments for her. Not a thing overflows, or blurs over.

  ‘How’s office- I believe the boss is a keen patron of my womb-sprout?’

  ‘She’s a keen patron of anything that brings home the cash. She is a worshipper of hard…’

  ‘Hard what, cub?’

  ‘Hard slogging, ma. You should see her; how she rides people, how she brings them to peak…’

  ‘Is madam running an office or a ladies ranch?’

  I am carried away already.’ What class mama! She would draw catcalls even if you walked her in a nun’s habit in the kindergarten! She would win a skin show even if you covered her in a burqa- if even a twinkly toe peeped out…’

  ‘Keep the noise down- there are children around. She’s been showing skin lately, has she? And what’s her husband up to, while her twinkly toes are peeping out- peeping into other woman’s pants I’m sure?’

  ‘He’s another lady-killer, they say; I don’t think he takes much care of her’.

  ‘So she needs taking care of now, does she, by my fresh-faced boy? Well let me tell you: son of my man; you look after my bahu, and leave other men’s business alone!’

  ‘Your bahu is not going away anywhere maa, she’s stuck to me’.

  ‘What was that? Stuck? Would you please spell that out for me? It sounded a little like you were tiring of my gold-standard heirloom already! Fat on the belly I can live with; fat in the head I can’t! Even if it’s my bed-wetting daft punk.’

  ‘Come on maa, I didn’t mean it like that! She’s…she’s the perfect mate, I know…but…’

  ‘But what, butt-head, come out with it!’

  ‘I know her for so long- since forever. In fact she’s the only one I know! I want to meet other girls as well mama; it’s trite.’

  ‘Married girls? Are you straying? And you haven’t even married yet! What’s up little dumbbell, what’s going on?’

  ‘Hey maa, chill. It’s cool; it’s nothing. I was just thinking aloud’.

  ‘If that’s what you are thinking these days, well it’s banned. No more thinking for you. Stay away from married women; understand? My son- I won’t have my firstborn run down the family name messing up with other’s wives’.

  �
�Hey maa, keep it down, Khosla might hear ya’.

  ‘Let the whole world hear what a fine dimwit my womb has sprung forth, and what I think about it! You men are all alike! I was hoping you wouldn’t turn out like your dad, but no, the blood runs thick!’

  ‘My dad! What are you saying ma?’

  ‘Yes, your dad! He may have died a hero in battle, but he was a coward for me. For ditching his bride and infant son for a married whore!’

  ‘Maa!’

  ‘Yeah, soak it up- you asked for it! Your dad deserted us, for a younger woman! His own adjutant’s wife! Just imagine the lives they wrecked for a bloody fuck!’

  ‘Maa, don’t say that please’, I beg her.

  ‘Yes! I discovered them together, in my own house, in my own bed! And all the while I had been suckling you in the other room! At that very moment I packed up our stuff and left with you for my mom’s place. And that’s where I brought you up, all alone! And now you’re following your father’s footsteps! What a fine woman she is! And you find her plain! She’s the best thing to have happened to you Arjun, and you are dumb-blind not to see it!’

  ‘Maa! What happened to dad? You said he died in battle?’

  ‘Yeah, good for everyone he died soon after; killed in Kargil; unmourned, unwept and unsung! The poor ass-chaser- he got nothing out of it, for she left him too soon after- except perhaps the satisfaction of screwing up single-handedly so many innocent lives! I brought you up with the right values- and I thought what a fine young man I had. I thought I’d done a good job, but you shame me Arjun, you shame me terribly!’

  ‘I’m sorry mom. Please don’t cry mamma. I love you mamma. Please I’ll never let you down, I promise! You trust me? Come on mamma stop it’.

  ‘You men with your glib tongues!’

  ‘No, I promise ma’.

  ‘You do? You will love her and take care of her and your kids and never desert your family?’

  ‘ Never mamma’!

  She quietens down somewhat, and keeps blowing into something. Finally she composes herself and says,’ look Arjun; I didn’t want it to be like this. I’d hoped I’d be able to break it gently to you, once you are well settled and older. I’m sorry, please forgive your mother- she’s old and loses it sometimes. It’s been hard, so hard bringing you up. I’m sorry’.

  She starts crying again. I’m myself in tears. Tears come easily to me- having been brought up in a house full of divers aunts and womenfolk. We sob together for a while, comforted in each other’s company. My heart goes out to her, what a terrible fate! And she never remarried, to take care of me no doubt.

  ‘Ma, take care of yourself. I promise you I will never cause you hurt again, I swear! Now please stop crying. I will be home as soon as possible.’

  ‘No you stay and do your job. I’ll be fine. We’ll take care of the engagement that’s coming up. I don’t want more work on my hands’.

  ‘Ma, I’ll look for another job- I know enough people in this business now’.

  ‘Fine, but do it later, after you’ve settled down’.

  ‘Ok, ma, but I’ll spread the word’.

  ‘Good boy, I love you. Be good’.

  ‘Bye ma’.

  I couldn’t sleep that night. That my mom had been treated in this way sent a scalding spike through my chest. With a rude jolt the mind opened to the consequences of my irresponsible behavior. It wasn’t like me at all- what had become of me? I didn’t recognize the beefy man in the mirror- he had a hard, reckless look about him. I had to extract myself from this dangerous situation as delicately, and firmly as possible, and return to the familiar world of a nine-to-fiver with the wife and bucket-loads of toddlers and nappies in tow.

  ϖ

  Chapter 8

  Diu

  (December 2013)

  ‘Tell me what happened between us that day in the mangroves was a mistake’, Monal asks, in a voice that expects, and commands a no.

  ‘…A lovely mistake?’ she pleads, a while later.

  She had proposed via SMS that as two responsible adults we should meet and discuss things over, and I had agreed. I could neither push her thought out of my mind nor admit it; either way I felt guilty. For the first time, as office colleagues are supposed to be, we are seated at a respectable distance across her solid mahogany office desk, our paws to ourselves, she looking me in the eye, I looking me in the tips of me shiny shoes.

  ‘I agree we fucked up’, I nearly choke on the words; ‘ I mean we messed up- big time’.

  ‘Hmm’. She swivels on her chair some, the castor wheels and her brain creaking.

  ‘There’s nothing more to be said then’. She rises and turns her back on me, looking out the tall, black steel framed windows at the Arabian Sea beyond. ‘Or is there?’ she turns back; a hopeful look flickers across her eyes and is gone before you can catch it.

  I cross and uncross the shiny shoed feet. ‘ I am sorry; it’s entirely my fault. I got carried away; it was like I became possessed. Please forgive me for causing this shame and pain to everybody. I … I’ll put in my papers; I think it’s best for everyone that I should leave.’

  ‘No, you don’t have to do that Arjun! Keep the professional away from your personal life. I’m equally to be blamed! I didn’t resist- yes; I was possessed too. Look, it happens all the time around here; when you throw good-looking people together at odd hours of the day, sparks are bound to fly- it’s nature, it’s human instinct, it’s corporate culture- you can’t wish it away’.

  ‘Look Monal, no one is going to let me get away with this. Where I come from- it just doesn’t work.’

  ‘It works wherever you have a warm-blooded man and woman, Arjun’, she says, with the finality of her usual curt business-like tone, as if she was endorsing a remark on file. ‘What do you think; your Aarti isn’t having fun on the side- she looks so alive, man, or my husband too? Who are we fooling, man? Come on, snap out of it! Just as long as we don’t get too attached to each other, or let it affect our professional equation, let nature take its course. But just make sure it’s kept under the wraps, and don’t start taking me for granted, and don’t go boasting about it at the bar. It’ll come back to me if you do. Are we good?’

  ‘Monal, please…listen to me… I’m about to be…’

  She has already pressed the buzzer and her secretary’s head has popped in the doorway. ‘Sit down. Take notes’, she tells her, and turns away from me.

  The secretary, her brows raised questioningly, smiles, expecting me to leave.

  I excuse myself and close the door softly after me.

  So that’s how it’s going to be; I’ll carry on with the “perfectly natural” affair, keeping in with fine corporate traditions! It’s human instinct, just a case of an unrelenting piece of bone- what the heck! What is my problem? Making love to the best tits in town, while the next best keep your house and raise your children- dare I ask for more? Success at the workplace is assured, so is a warm hearth, but what does that make me- if not a thief and a lowlife?

  I am fallen, but not fallen twice. My mom is not going to announce, ‘let the world see what a fine whore has sprung forth from my thighs!’

  I return to my desk and draft my resignation letter and replace it in the drawer. As soon as Aarti and I are settled I intend to make a career switch.

  ϖ

  I put the phone on silent mode and ignore all her messages and calls. I visit her office only when her secretary summons me personally. Even then I take my clerk along on some pretext or the other to save me from a dressing down by the boss.

  ‘You are avoiding me Arjun.’ She says one day after shooing my witness out of her office. ‘ You don’t get to avoid me- I avoid you. ‘

  ‘No ma’am- yes ma’am’.

  The word jars her. I can call her madam, as my mama would put it, if she prefers. But she doesn’t lose any more time in chiding me about it.

  ‘ I get the picture- big and clear. You want to keep it professional between us from now on, so be
it. But take my calls and be where you’re asked to be, on time’.

  ‘Alright’.

  She rambles about this and that, her mind somewhere else. I don’t think it’s about sex with me that’s distracting her; that she can have with far better men of her choosing anytime, and away from office too; it’s so unprofessional, so unlike her! I think it’s about the control you must feel by cheating on your man with a guy forced to cheat on his woman. The thrill of being able to hold many lives to ransom at will!

  ‘Your figures are coming flat in the last two quarters Mr. Arjun’, she says, keeping the ball in play.

  I shift in my chair. ‘Those are not my reports you are looking at ma’am. Mine are in the dustbin- you were tossing them in when we got in’.

  ‘Oh’, she says, without shifting her gaze. ‘You are keeping track of my garbage Mr. Arjun? What does your report say then’, she asks, a little resignedly, already knowing what to expect.

  ‘A hefty 40% increase in revenues, two more IPL cricketers in the bag, with a gymnast to boot- Rohini Bhardwaj, first Indian American to medal in the Olympics’.

  ‘What will a gymnast fetch us in eyeballs? Keep your mind on the business; we are not in charity here- earning a living for obscure artists.’

  ‘We also make a hefty cut off their income. In fact I wonder if they make any money at all, after we have finished, and the taxes. And she has quite a following in the diaspora abroad. It makes people abroad sit up and take notice of our company. Tom called in personally to compliment me on the choice. He said it was nice strategy’.

  ‘Really, since when has Tom started calling up the junior staff directly? And why haven’t you kept me informed?’

  ‘ I did make a mention of it in my report ma’am,’ I tell her, nodding towards the sheaf of papers popping out of her crapper.

  ‘So now it’s my fault- I don’t read the reports’.

  I look down and exam the lines on my hands. I wonder where I’m headed.

  ‘Is it?’ she repeats, irritated with my silence.

  I look up at her. Her finely chiseled features are creased with unhappiness. If she weren’t such a man she would have cried.