I laugh and hug her; my little daughter has indeed grown up. I sincerely want to do something nice for her birthday, but Tanya insists that she does not want a party.
I truly am racking my brains over her birthday plans.
Chetana, after that day’s visit, has called just thrice in four months. I did not pick up her call the first time. The second time, I kept the conversation to a polite minimum and hung up hurriedly, making an excuse saying I had to go. The third time she called, she went on and on about her own life, about the holiday she took in Europe, about how well a cousin she stayed with treated her, and what a wonderful vacation they had. She did not once ask about what was going on in my life, whether I was okay, how The Magic Saucepan was doing, or anything else. After she had rattled off about her own life, she suddenly hung up saying she was getting an international incoming call from her brother in the US.
I really want to do something special for Tanya’s birthday now and debate about inviting Chetana over for a small celebration. But the memory of her last visit, the disdainful way she had looked around my flat, and her supremely self-centred behaviour puts me off, and I decide that she being out of my life is a better option.
A few days pass and one day, Akash tells me he is sending me a courier, saying there is a surprise in it for me. I wait eagerly for it. When it arrives, I am touched to see a lovely handmade card by him in which he has splashed yellows and reds and oranges in a thick layer. It looks beautiful. Inside he has written
Our lives have intermingled so much like the colours on the face of this card. They merge, they blend, and they create magic.
I love you Nisha.
You are THE ONE for me. You always will be.
I promise to be there for you always. I will NOT leave.
How much more can I assure you?
I will wait and wait till you say a yes.
All my love and then some more,
Akash
I am so moved by his card that I sit and stare at it. Then I read it a couple of more times and kiss it. I also realize that this is the first real love letter I have ever got in my life. Samir had never done anything like this for me and before Samir, there had been nobody special. I so love Akash and his little ways of making me feel loved. He is such a sweetheart. But if I do marry him, I will take away from him forever, the chance to father his own children. He is just twenty-seven and I am so much older. No matter what he says, I know his parents too will be happier if he married someone his own age.
It is when I try to put the card back in the envelope that I notice there is something else in there too, something that looks like a piece of neatly folded paper. When I open it, I am so stunned. Akash has sent three plane tickets for the children and me to Chennai. He has scribbled a note saying, ‘I will be waiting for you at Chennai airport and we will cruise down the ECR together to Pondicherry where we will celebrate Tanya’s birthday with aplomb. Waiting EAGERLY’.
I am totally swept away. This guy has style! And he is so thoughtful too.
I call him immediately and he laughs at my surprised reaction.
‘I can’t wait to see you and the kids, Nisha. It has been so long!’ he says.
The truth is I cannot wait to see him too. It has been five whole months since we last met. I am bursting at the seams with excitement.
When Tanya comes from school, I tell her that we are going for a vacation to Pondicherry and we will celebrate her birthday there, perhaps on the beach. She is delighted.
‘Wow, Mama! I am so excited. This is better than celebrating birthday at school!’ she exclaims, clapping her hands in sheer joy.
She asks me every single day how many days are left to go to Pondicherry. We bring out the suitcases and pack our clothes. The last time I had used them was when I was moving out from Samir’s house on that awful night.
‘Rohit, say Pooond-eeee-che-reeee’ says Tanya to Rohit. She has started teaching him to speak and she repeats each word slowly, breaking down all the syllables for him as he struggles to say them. I smile watching their repeated efforts. Tanya never gets tired of this game and Rohit never gets tired of following her around. He can walk very well now and can run too on his podgy little legs, tumbling one after the other like the wheels of a tricycle.
‘Poin-cheee’ repeats Rohit, much to our amusement. He is happy to see that we are laughing and he goes around repeating ‘Poin-chee, Poin-chee’.
I feel as excited as the children about the trip.
The flight from Mumbai is on time and once we arrive in Chennai, I go the washroom at the airport for a quick touch-up. I want to make sure I look good when I meet Akash. I can barely wait.
Finally, our suitcases arrive, and I push the trolley with Rohit sitting on them, riding along on the trolley and Tanya skipping along happily beside me.
As soon as we come out of the arrival hall, we spot Akash.
‘Akaaaaaash,’ shouts Tanya as she runs towards him.
He gathers her in his arms and raises her high above the ground as she squeals in delight. He lowers her and plants a kiss on her cheeks saying, ‘My little doll has grown up so much! You are such a big girl now.’ Tanya revels in all the attention and beams with the compliment and my heart fills with joy seeing how little it takes to make a child happy.
Rohit is now waiting for his turn and Akash carries him as well and gives him the same treatment saying, ‘My brave soldier.’ Rohit responds enthusiastically saying ‘soldeeee’ and we all laugh.
Then Akash looks at me. The emotions that we had suppressed for so long, come rushing back and we embrace in a tight hug. It is bliss. It feels so wonderful.
It feels like we belong together and are meant to be.
Akash takes over the trolley from me and wheels it, this time with both kids sitting on it. And then we all walk towards his car.
I cannot help thinking that anybody who sees us from the outside will never guess that Akash is not the father, and will of course presume we are a happy family.
And then it strikes me.
We truly are!
Sometimes, it is those that we accept as our own that become our family. It does not matter if the bond is not sanctioned by law or society and not given a name like ‘husband and wife’. I feel more connected with Akash than anyone else right then. And with Akash, it is not just about the sex at all. This is not some young, hotblooded passion where I am swept off my feet. This is a mature, deeper kind of love. This is the real deal.
The drive to his place from Chennai takes about three hours. The East Coast Road is filled with scenes straight out of a picture postcard. The sealine suddenly emerges out of nowhere and the sand on the coastline blending into it looks straight out of an Edouard Manet painting. I roll down the window and smell in the salty sea air and inhale deeply. I love it.
The children have slept off in the back seat and Akash is playing some really nice music. I feel all the tension and worries of Mumbai slipping away. For the first time, the emptiness which had so engulfed me and settled around me like a well-worn cloak in Mumbai, fades out.
‘Akash, this is heavenly!’ I exclaim.
‘Wait till you see my place,’ he says, grinning from ear to ear.
About ten kilometres before hitting Pondicherry town, Akash takes a left turn to a small, narrow but well-laid-out road. He swerves inside as the road curves and then drives into the quaintest, large, and the most wonderful-looking mansion I have ever set my eyes upon. The driveway is made of cobbled stones and is lined with tall, gigantic trees on either sides. The branches seem to be bending down and ushering us in. The mansion (it just cannot be called a house) is pale white and has yellow pillars lining a large veranda. It is surrounded by a very well-maintained garden and is full of large green trees. The sunlight criss-crosses the veranda and the shadows make pretty patterns on the terracotta tiles. A hammock tied from one pillar to another beckons invitingly. The garden also has a little fountain and there are ducks swimming in a water body.
There are many flowers blooming, and right at the end of the garden is a statue of Buddha. There are birds chirping and the one word which sums up the feeling that washes over me as I slowly get out of the car in a daze is pure serenity.
Akash is delighted at how taken in I am.
The children have now woken up and Rohit is already squealing with delight at the ducks. A guy emerges from inside the house.
‘This is Muthu, my man Friday. He looks after the house. He will keep an eye on Rohit and Tanya,’ he says.
‘Wow Akash, You are truly living a king’s life here! This is super-cool!’ I cannot hide my joy.
‘Come inside, Nisha. I want to show you your room,’ he says.
We enter a large drawing room with breathtakingly beautiful architecture. The entire house has high ceilings and wooden roof panels. Even the door knobs are carved and have old wooden bolts running across them horizontally. I have never been inside such a gorgeous-looking house, only reading descriptions of the same in books. It feels marvellous to be inside such an aesthetically done up space.
All the furniture in the house is antique. There is a chest of drawers made of rosewood, there is a large swing in the drawing room, and it also has a small area open to the sky, like an atrium. It is filled with flowering plants and pebbles.
‘Akash, never once did you tell me this place is so gorgeous.’ I tell him.
‘Then the effect would have been lost, Nisha. I wanted it to be a total surprise to you.’
And surprised I am.
I have an entire bedroom to myself. It has a large four-poster bed which is so high that there is a little stool placed beside it just to help me climb into it. The room has deep-blue curtains coordinated with the linen on the bed. There is a lovely window overlooking the garden, right in front of an ancient writing desk. It feels like a peaceful little sanctuary where I can escape to.
‘Akash, I have never seen anything so wonderful. Not even in the many hotels that I have stayed in while travelling. This is breathtaking, really!’
‘Glad it meets your approval, Madam,’ he says with a bow, making me laugh in delight.
There is another room in the attic and Akash says it is Tanya’s room. He has taken the trouble to get a wonderfully carved child’s bed with amazing-looking carved wooden characters perched on the headboard. There is a delightful owl, a figure which looks like a gnome, a little house, and more. Akash says that there are many antique furniture shops in and around Pondicherry, and when he came across this bed, it was too delightful to pass. Akash says he has already thought of the stories which he can make up about the wooden residents on the headboard, and he plans to tell those stories to Tanya.
Akash has another surprise for Tanya. He takes us to a shed adjacent to the garden and opens it. Inside is the most perfect little bicycle for a girl. It is pink and white and has tassels on the handle.
‘Tanya, this is your birthday present,’ he says.
‘Oh my God. Thank you so much, Akash!’ she screams and runs to the bicycle.
Akash says that his real birthday gift to her is that he will teach her to ride it. And he does it in two days flat.
I watch with pride as Akash runs around holding Tanya, encouraging her to pedal, and when she finally gets the balance and rides off, he stands there like a proud parent, the sweat dripping from him face with the effort he has put in running beside her. He is truly prouder than a peacock to watch her ride.
The beach is just a short walk from Akash’s mansion. And since it is away from the main city, it remains secluded at most times, almost like a private beach at our disposal. We go there every single day, morning and evening, before it gets too hot. The children have never enjoyed themselves this much before. They make sand castles, collect shells, and squeal in delight when the waves touch their feet, watching the crabs scuttle across the sand.
Akash has a cook who also functions as the housekeeper. She is Muthu’s wife and between them they keep my children well fed and looked after.
It is the first time since I became a mother that I can totally let go of all my responsibilities and truly relax, knowing that they are in safe hands. It is such a liberating feeling.
Akash tells Tanya that when he was a child, he had a tree house and he would spend hours in it, reading books and sipping lemonade. The idea immensely appeals to Tanya and she asks if it is possible to build a tree house. The large garden has many trees and Akash and Tanya go around scouting for the perfect tree. Finally, he finds one. He gets a local carpenter to come over and explains exactly what he wants. Three days later, the perfect little tree house is ready for Tanya which is also where she ultimately ends up celebrating her birthday.
Tanya is over the moon.
‘Akash, this is the BESTEST birthday I have ever had,’ she says.
I absolutely love Akash’s house, this little world which is so full of happiness and joy. It is totally different from our cramped flat in Mumbai, where when you get out of the building, you are bang in the middle of traffic. This place with its tall trees, a garden, the most beautiful house, and easy access to the beach, is a different world altogether. My life in Mumbai now seems so drab and empty and difficult when compared to this. The thought of going back to it kind of fills me with dread.
Tanya says to me, ‘Mama, I love this place so much. Can we stay here forever?’
It appears as though Akash feels the same way.
Long after the children have gone to bed, Akash says to me, ‘Nisha, you have seen what life is like here. Why do you want to go back to Mumbai? Stay here. We will start The Magic Saucepan here.’
I reach out for his hand and we sit in silence for a long time, like we did back in Mumbai on my balcony. But here, the sound is punctuated only by the sound of a myriad insects and crickets chirping. Suddenly, a firefly emerges out of somewhere, and we watch mesmerized as it flies around.
That night, I ponder over what Akash has suggested. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.
But I am still certain that I do not want to marry him.
And I do not see how I can get around that.
Nothing Else Matters
The more I think about it, the more I am tempted to take up Akash’s suggestion. I discuss it with him the next day, on one of our many walks to the beach.
‘Akash, I have been thinking about what you said about starting The Magic Saucepan here. It is not a bad idea, I think.’
‘Of course it isn’t. When have my ideas ever been bad? Besides, it isn’t really doing well there now, is it?’
‘Not really. But that is also because I haven’t been giving it my all to placate the ‘pesky puskis’. I could probably hire a live-in maid there, so that I can leave Rohit when I go to the client’s place. But somehow, Akash, you know how unreliable hired help can be. I have heard such horror stories about leaving children with hired help. I just cannot do that.’
‘Nisha, move over here. It will be so much easier when we work as a team.’
‘I do agree, Akash, but a school for Tanya?’
‘I have been asking around. There is a really nice school run by an American lady located not too far from here. We can make an appointment, go there and check it out.’
‘And what about the market here for our Magic Saucepan? Are there parties and stuff?’
‘Oh, you won’t believe how vibrant the night life here is once you get to know the right people. Pondicherry is a very cosmopolitan town, but it will take a while for it to accept you in its fold. I have made a few friends here in these past six months. In fact, I have an idea. Let’s throw a party and invite a few people. A select few. I will help you cook. We will put out feelers and see how it goes. What do you say?’
‘Yeah, that is not a bad idea. I will enjoy cooking and your place is just perfect to host a lovely party.’
Akash makes a few phone calls and fixes the party for Saturday evening. There are three couples coming and a single guy who is a foreigner. One of the
couples sound interesting. The husband works in another HUL factory as the commercial manager, while the wife has a really interesting occupation.
Akash says that her name is Ankita Sharma and that she does art therapy. I am curious to meet her as I have never interacted with anyone from that field before.
We decide to host the party in the garden. Muthu and Lakshmi set up the table beautifully. I have cooked Chinese and all the dishes have turned out well. Muthu and Lakshmi have also thoughtfully kept little stoneware diffusers with a small flame inside that heat up the water with essential oils, keeping mosquitoes and insects at bay. There are several of these diffusers, and the party scene does look beautiful, lit up by the moonlight and the light from the diffusers.
The foreigner Mark arrives first. He is from a small town in the UK called Thetford. He loves India and has been living in Auroville for the past few years. He explains the concept of Auroville and I am fascinated by it. It is a form of community living started by Mirra Alfassa, popularly known as ‘The Mother’ to locals, and is one of the greatest followers and propagators of Aurobindo’s teachings. Auroville is designed as a universal town where men and women of all countries can live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics, and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realize human unity and he tells me that there are people from seventy-two countries living there at present. There are schools and they have done a lot for the local population. It is a place without politics and it is a dream which is being lived by so many people. He invites me over for a visit. Akash has already been there and confirms that Auroville is indeed worth visiting and promises to take me there sometime.
Ankita is the next to arrive with her husband and two children. She seems very down to earth and friendly. We get along really well, and I am surprised to feel as though I have known her forever, even though I am meeting her for the first time. Ankita’s two children go to the same school which Akash had suggested. I ask her for details about the school and it does sound interesting. And when I tell her that I am toying with the idea of moving here, she tells me that as far as the school is concerned, I would never regret it. She passes on the number of the lady who runs the school and asks me to speak to her and go and see it for myself.