Chapter 2
Zubin brought the car to a stop outside the gates of Aditi’s parents’ building.
As usual, his girls were busy saying bye-bye to Nana and Nani.
He couldn’t fault them. He took his own sweet time saying bye-bye to them, too, first inside the house, then outside the door, then on the threshold of the elevator; even though they now lived only two minutes from his house and were in their lives on a daily basis.
They had shifted close by when their daughter was two years old. Raising Aara had never been easier.
The car door behind him opened, and he glanced back.
“Hey, party animal, what did you do today?”
“We had soooo much fun and Papa you know the return gift section was a shopping arcade and we could shop for whatever we wanted, look what I got, there’s a unicorn and pink glasses and a sipper and a night dress and Mumma didn’t let me…”
“You would empty their entire rack,” Aditi slipped in, eyeing him a little tersely. He raised his eyebrows. Her look sharpened. What? He mouthed.
She tipped her head back.
“What?” He said low enough for only her to hear.
“Papa, we will go home and pick gifts for Prisha now! Mumma got her invite and also Presha Kapoor but her party is next week so we can go shopping for her…”
Zubin winced. He was supposed to go early and empty out the cabinet.
“You won’t believe what happened today…” he started.
Don’t, Aditi warned. Zubin sighed.
“You have to take a bath first, and then we will open it,” he told his daughter, giving Aditi a look — distract her and I’ll do it. He was hungry, tired and had a sword hanging over his head. But first, he had a cabinet of pink fluff to empty.
————————————————————
“Why isn’t Aara eating?” Zubin asked, sitting down at the table after bringing everything out with Aditi.
“She already ate at Mummy’s house.”
“What did you eat, party animal?”
“Thepla,” she said distractedly, turning her Barbie’s arms this way and that, lying on the rug outside the double doors leading to the terrace. She was already yawning.
“And nothing at your Presha party?”
She yawned again, shaking her head, pushing her foot up onto the glass door.
Zubin was exhausted, too, but that sight was enough to make him smile.
Her tiny legs up on the wall, Barbie up in the air, pyjamas riding all over the place, her little mouth yawning with her hair all over her face. Exact Aditi.
“Quinoa?”
“No,” he shook his head, bringing his attention back to his food. It was jowar roti and lots of protein. Plus, a salad that did not look appealing at all. But he shovelled it in. Dhansakh was still only for sniffing, and even that had to be made in a spray of oil.
“How was your day?” Zubin finally looked at Aditi, lowering his voice. She looked as exhausted as he felt.
“Good. Tiring. There’s another playdate tomorrow.”
“Don’t parents have anything else to do in life?”
She rolled her eyes. “I think they are all imported from Mars.” Aditi yawned even as she ate. “What about you?”
“Same.” He kept eating. “And I also took a divorce case,” he said quickly.
“Divorce case?” She stopped eating, sounding shocked. That meant she wasn’t the lawyer on the other side at Dalal Chambers. Zubin didn’t know if he felt relief or disappointment.
“It’s an aunty from my old park. I used to go there for jogging before we were married.”
“Jogging? You used to go to the gym.”
“Between strength training during winters, I used to go there, it’s right behind. This aunty used to come there. Must be 55 or something. Many aunties, actually. They loved talking, so did I, so we just met and jogged and gossiped and, you know, attended the laughter club and stuff…”
Aditi’s eyes were wide. He went on. “She came to the office today. It’s a crazy case…”
“One sec, one sec, don’t say anything more. What’s the name?”
“Chandni Jethmalani.”
“Zubin,” she set her spoon down. “You have to step back from the case.”
His eyes widened. “Don’t tell me.”
She nodded.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No way, Aditi.”
“You don’t even take divorce cases!”
“Neither do you!”
“It’s Narayan Dalal’s best friend. He passed it on to me because the wife is also his friend and apparently crazy.”
“You are a criminal litigator!”
“Vying for partner with Narayan Dalal’s blessing!”
“I promised her I’ll take it.”
“It’s my partner’s case.”
“You can say you don’t do divorce cases.”
“And what’s next? He says come beta, take your pick from the litter!”
“Say it in this tone and for sure not.”
“Don’t say anything about my tone because you are in for a lot of things to hear today.”
“Like?”
“Like what the hell, Daru?” She whisper-shouted, pushing her face closer to his. Something shifted inside him at the sound of that word. Uttered after years. “You are going to fight your wife for a laughter club aunty friend’s case? Drop it.”
“Mumma?”
Aditi’s spitting fire of a face washed out instantly.
“Haan, Aara?” She raised her volume.
“Can you give me Nutella pancakes tomorrow?”
“I can do peanut butter tomorrow, Nutella only on Fridays.”
“One tiny spoon?”
Aditi sighed. “We’ll see.”
“One lick? Only one. Pleeeease?”
A longer sigh left Aditi’s mouth — “If you wake up without a single ‘five minutes’ then one lick.”
“Yayiie!”
Zubin set his hand over hers. Her eyes looked so sleepy. “Aditi…”
“You better drop it, Zubin.”
He nodded. “You eat and take her to sleep, I will close everything here.”
————————————————————
“Aditi…” he whispered to her as he came to bed.
“Mmm?” She was half asleep.
“Doshi.” He whispered in her ear, slipping under the duvet in the chill of the room’s AC.
“Hmm?” Her eyes popped open. “What happened?”
The thrill in his chest wiggled its fingers. “Nothing.” Zubin pressed his mouth into her hair. “Sleep. Everything is sorted in the kitchen.”
“Mmm.”
Zubin lay down on his side of the bed and closed his eyes. His body suddenly felt like it was on weed. Synapses were firing, electric currents moving, his head was tingling. He closed his eyes tighter, turned, and pulled her closer. Then, with those synapses still firing, he managed to go to sleep.
He startled awake when a tiny body wiggled its way between them.
“Aara…” he squinted. She had already pushed between them and slipped under the duvet. Aditi turned and pressed their daughter to her chest, her tiny feet coming to his groin. Zubin pushed a pillow over the sensitive area and went back to sleep.
He startled awake again when his stomach was pounded by a pair of legs.
“Papa… move.” She was pushing in her sleep.
Zubin popped his head up. Aditi was already half awake and on the edge of her side of the bed, her chest pushed so far back that she was dangling half off it. He yawned, cocking his head.
As was their practise in the last couple of years, they pushed pillows around their daughter and he leapt over her, going down to the mattress that they would lay out on the floor on Aditi’s side every night.
Aditi slipped down beside him. It was small, but Zubin switched off the AC, pulled the thin spare shawl over them both, and they went to sleep on the single small pillow, curled.
————————————————————
Zubin pushed his hands inside his pockets, staring outside his window.
The Mumbai skyline was moody, the steady May heat looking slightly softened as a cloud or two hovered over the horizon of the sea.
There was something similar happening inside him.
He felt… excited. Thrilled. Something he had stopped feeling completely in the last few years.
Happy, yes. Contented, of course. Grateful, for sure.
“Sir?” Meera’s voice sounded behind him. “Mrs. Jethmalani is here as per your request.”
“Send her in.”
His office door clicked shut. Zubin turned, his eyes still zoned away as he reached down on his desk and picked up the folder he had kept with him yesterday.
He was supposed to return it with an apology and a card of Advocate Agarwal.
He thumbed the card lying on his desk, ran his finger over its edge.
“Zubeeen?” Chandni Aunty opened the door, knocking after. He smiled. “Please, come in.”
“You could have called me yourself! My number is still the same…”
“I…” he opened his mouth, the folder and card in hand. Then pressed it shut. “Please, sit down.”
“What happened?” She pushed her sunglasses up and into her sleek hair, a mini portable hand fan whirring in her other hand, settling her ample self in the chair with a grace only she could produce. Her skin sparkled, but her eyes dulled. “Don’t tell me we will lose this case.”
“Wha…?” He burst into a reluctant chuckle.
Then looked down at the folder — “There is no way you could lose this case. Even if all these demands are not granted, you are still walking away with a sizeable chunk. Even an intern will win the bare minimum for you. And that’s a lot, considering your husband’s attached balance sheet. ”
“But I want it all.”
Zubin blinked, peering at her.
“I want to take him to the cleaning shop and mop the floor with him!”
His jaw ticked. She was not like this. She was materialistic, loved her jewels and phones and perfumes and holidays. But she wasn’t… vengeful. Or maybe he didn’t know her enough.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Zubin pushed his hands inside his pockets. “What happened? It says irretrievable breakdown of marriage here, but what led to the decision? As far as I remember, you and your husband have been married for thirty, forty years?”
“He wanted to file for divorce.”
“And you didn’t?”
“Of course I did!” She pointed. “He just filed before me. He is the joke. Family Court judge was my kitty friend and twice divorced herself.”
Zubin rubbed the bridge of his nose. So the judge hadn’t been smoking up but judging from bitter experience.
“Ok, I get it now. I just invited you here today to tell you that I will…” his throat ran dry. “That I will…” his tongue wouldn’t move. He swallowed. “That I will… be taking your case.”
Chandni Aunty stared at him, mouth dropping open.
“But didn’t you say that yesterday only?”
He gaped at her. Then nodded, clearing his throat. “I did. But now I am going to get you each and every last one of your demands,” Zubin declared, staring her in the eye. She grinned. “And make sure you walk out of the Bombay High Court divorced.” He added.
Her smile wobbled. Zubin smiled, holding her gaze — “Happily divorced.”
“Happily and RICHLY!”
————————————————————
The sky was softening, the sun’s rays splitting from behind grey clouds. Zubin sat down on the edge of his desk and made the call.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Hey.” He scratched his chin. “Got a minute?”
“Yeah, one sec.” A door shut behind her. Voices and hecklers.
“Are you at court?”
“No, I was at Kitaab Khana. Aara has to take a storybook to school tomorrow for character day.”
“Right…” he stalled.
“What happened?”
“Umm…”
“Zubin?”
“I took the NOC for Chandni Jethmalani’s Vakaltnama.”
“YOU WHAT?”
“I took her case.”
Silence.
“Aditi?”
“You are joking.”
“No.”
“Tell me you are joking.”
“…I am serious.”
Silence.
“Aditi? Are you there…?”
“Fuck you, Zubin.”
“Aditi, it’s…”
“FUCK. YOU. Zubin, how could you?! We spoke last night.”
“I know…”
“We made a pact years ago!”
“I know, but…”
“Have you lost it? We live in the same house, we have a daughter!”
“Many couples fight cases against each other…”
“They don’t go out of hand when arguing like you! What the actual hell? I could strangle you right now…”
He gaped at his own faint reflection in the glass window. “I couldn’t say no.”
“Not a good enough reason!”
He swallowed. “We will keep our personal and professional lives separate.”
“You are sorely incapable of doing that. Or should I remind you about the Jaggi Singh case?” She snarled.
Memories resurrected. Synapses slumbering for ages began to explode inside him. Zubin jumped to his feet, his brain-to-mouth filter breaking down.
“What happened, Doshi? Panicked?”
“I’ll show you panic, Daru.”
His hair stood on end, electrified.
“Leave the case.” She shot out.
“I can’t, she is relying on me now…”
Silence.
“Then listen,” she said, cooly.
“Listening.”
“You DO NOT get to sleep in my room tonight, or any night until you either bow out of this case or lose it,” she yelled.
“Thank god we don’t have a swimming pool,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I said, it’s a shared area,” Zubin managed through the grin breaking his fucking mouth. He looked at it in the glass and tried to tamp it down. “It’s my room too.”
“Try me.” Her voice was fuming now. “Fuck fuck fuck! Shit, do they even know we are husband and wife?”
“I will tell my client, you tell yours.”
“You know what…”
“What?”
“You… I hate you! I hate you! You are such an asshole! What is this asshole move? Do you even know wh…”
“Annihilation Daru coming for you. Don’t peep into my notes while I sleep tonight, Doshi.”
“THIS IS NOT A GAME!”
“But I am a player.”
She cringed. He cringed harder at his own comeback. He clearly needed to sharpen the wit that had been lying dulled for years. How many? He couldn’t even remember.
“Wanna try an out-of-court settlement, Doshi?”
“Fuck off!”
“We just got started.”
She hung up on him.
Zubin stared at the mobile in his hand. He was scared of what this decision was about to do inside his house, but he was more scared of how it was about to splinter his face with the grin that just wouldn’t go. He was going bonkers.