Chapter 1
— RITU —
“You need bangs!”
“I swear, you need bangs, Maasi, just look at your eyes right now,” Maya jumped up from her seat beside hers, the salon thankfully empty for her to frolic around like they were in middle school. Ritu didn’t need to look at the mirror; her mobile was pinging with messages.
“Look, look…” Maya’s perky voice scampered on in the background as she read.
DR. SHRAVAN (LONDON)
It’s TB, I am taking her to London
Already landed
RITU
Thank god it’s not what we thought
Did she start on the treatment?
DR. SHRAVAN (LONDON)
Yes
Typing…
RITU
Let me know if you need anything from me sir
DR. SHRAVAN (LONDON)
Can you take over at the clinic?
Ritu sat up. The taut tension in her hair snapped.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the hairstylist winced, his fingers reaching for her hair again, but gently.
“No,” Ritu glanced up. “I’m sorry I startled. Are we finished?”
“Just softening up the ends…”
“And then bangs!” Maya came to rest her butt on the island in front of her. Ritu stared at her.
“What? Don’t stare. You would rock curtain bangs, Maasi!”
“Don’t call me Maasi in public.”
“How does that matter? See this — excuse me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the hairstylist was already smirking at them.
“If I call her Maasi in public, would anybody believe me?”
“Not at all.”
“Exactly,” Maya came close to her face and placed her hands palm-down under her chin — “Looking 29 at the ripe old age of…”
“Dare you say it,” Ritu warned. Maya’s face came closer and she whisper-shouted — “39.” Followed by a kiss to her ear. Ritu tried holding back a laugh. She did. Very hard. It had never been possible with Maya around. A tiny one always escaped from between her teeth.
“Bangs it is then!”
“Maya.”
“Ok, let’s see this,” Maya held her phone up. “They frame the side of your face, they are easy to manage, you can sweep them back and pin them up if you don’t like them but FYI, you are going to love them. They will make the brown of those innocent eyes pop. And your cheekbones, Maasi…”
“I haven’t seen them in a while,” Ritu joked, turning her face from side to side in the mirror.
She had her phases with weight gain and weight loss.
Maya and her, both did. Genetic makeup. They were curvy at their thinnest and curvy max when the ‘En-joy’ phase hit — as Maya liked to call it.
While Maya had the excuse of being a new mom and in the blissful ‘just married’ phase, Ritu didn’t have any excuse except that of the last six months being non-stop work, Green Card interviews, worrying about Maya’s gestational diabetes and impending delivery, along with a literal slump in motivation to hit the gym.
Pilates had bored her, as had yoga. This had been a first. She had stuck to at least one out of the three at even her lowest.
This felt like a new low. 39. About to turn 40.
Ritu stared at herself in the mirror. Life wasn’t even close to where she had thought it would be.
Scratch that — life was exactly as she had thought it to be but not even close to where she had dreamed it to be.
With the kind of love she had once read about in Mills and ‘Chopda Poojan at GK Textiles,’ as Gautam had quietly corrected behind her back.
They had also hosted an award ceremony with a crazy Dundee Awards twist last night.
She smiled at the people teeming around them now, employees Maya couldn't stop chattering with. Gautam was heading straight inside with MM.
“There are mosquitoes outside,” he informed her. “Can you hold her so that I can run up to my office and grab her bouncer?”
“What about my saree now?” Ritu cocked an eyebrow.
Gautam gaped at her, then at the window behind her, lit with divas, from where Maya was clearly visible. “You know, I thought you were the normal one.”
Ritu grinned, reaching for MM, who came willingly to her. The first few days, it had been a task to pry her away from her father. Now, she was beginning to recognise her.
“Hi, GoohGooh,” Ritu nuzzled their noses together.
“What’s that name?”
“That’s the sound she makes the most!”
Gautam was already rolling his eyes and striding up the staircase.
“Hi, Ritu Madam,” one of their employees greeted her. The tailor who had worked on her blouse at record speed.
“Hi!” Ritu greeted, holding MM close as the final touches were made around her — rangoli, flowers, garlands for the doors, oil diyas lighting.
Everybody was in their finest Indian wear.
She suspected designer wear, but then, this was a glamorous place.
She wouldn’t recognise designers but she recognised quality.
GK Textiles was Gautam’s textile trading company that had been founded a decade ago.
Recently, he had expanded into fabric designing or something of that sort with his brand Made in Mumbai.
Maya had been hired as one of the textile designers on his team.
This converted Portuguese bungalow served as their collective office, and Ritu soaked in the vibes — edgy, creative, and wholly 100% Mumbai.
She couldn’t imagine a textile company in New York housed in a space like this.
“Will you grow up to design clothes like your Dada and Mumma or become a doctor like Maasi?” She kissed MM’s cheek.
“God, I could eat your cheeks. You are a rasgulla! My favourite rasgulla,” Ritu nibbled her cheek with a closed mouth, and she made those happy chortles, hiding her face in her shoulder, gummy mouth ready to bite her affection away.
Ritu laughed, flicking her face to get the bangs falling into her eyes away.
“Cue — 1, 2, 3!” Maya announced from somewhere, and her patent music lit to life.
Jab jab chudi khanke re… jab jab payal chanke re… jab jab saawan barse re…
“This one’s for my Maasi who is back from vilayat!” She held up her hand. Ritu glared at her. Whichever folks were unfortunate enough to be around them were compelled to applaud. Loudly.
Hoye bole bole bole bole bole bole bole haaye jiyaa…
“Piya piya o piya piya!” Maya sang along, breaking into that god-awful hook step that they had mastered together once upon a cringeworthy time. “Come on, Maasi!”
“You are crazy!”
“Subah-shaam kare mera jiya…”
MM was clapping her hands together. Ritu chuckled, jostling her, going down in a wave to match the song and make her go off again.
“Piya piya o piya piya,” Ritu sang to her, the little girl such a Maya’s girlie girl as she enjoyed every moment.
Her bangs stuck to her face and she flicked them again.
They refused to move. Her hands tied around MM, Ritu flicked harder again and found herself face to face with a chest. A man. In a suit. For a Diwali Pooja.
She glanced up and was shocked that she wasn't surprised at all. Obnoxious manners, obnoxious dressing.
“Hello, Doctor.”