44. Aarti
AARTI
The high of my Tuesday night storytelling event fades fast. I’m pulled right back into the falling empire that is Up Late, and that quick hit of confidence is but a fleeting boost.
After Friday’s taping, I park my car in front of my parents’ place. Diti and Arjun’s cars are already lined up in the drive, and through the window, I see them all at the dinner table.
I walk through the door and am greeted by Maa.
“We’ve been waiting for you, beta!”
“Got here as soon as I could, Maa.”
I find my seat and give Diti a polite nod from across the table. I haven’t seen her in days, but here we are, once again, pretending like everything is totally normal.
Arjun gives my shoulder a squeeze and I lean into his hand.
“How’re you?” I ask. I’ve seen him a couple times since the spectacular blow-up with Noa, so he knows the whole story.
“I’m good,” he says, smiling smaller than I can tell he would like to. Last time we spoke, he told me that he and Benny were getting married, and I can still hardly contain my excitement. “How about you?”
“Oh, you know.”
I look over at Dad and get his usual quiet wink and a nod. Maa returns with a dish of piping hot naan.
“Dig in!” she says.
We all gladly load up our plates as Maa addresses us one by one.
“How’s school, Diti?”
“Great,” she says, coolly.
“And the restaurant, Arjun?”
“Just swell.”
“How is the show, Aarti?”
“Fine.”
A silence falls over the table, partly because everyone is chowing down but mostly because no one at this table except probably Maa can talk without chancing the slip of a deep dark secret.
I listen to the clanking of silverware on plates and it’s as if they’re banging directly into my skull.
Usually, I’m the queen of the avoidant dinner chat, but for some reason I can’t slip into the typical ease of being a big fat fucking phony.
In fact, it’s pissing me off more than any family dinner we’ve had before.
Diti is on the biggest downward spiral of her life, I’m reeling from heartbreak, Arjun is getting married for chrissakes, and all of us are just sitting here, nibbling away at our vindaloo as if we don’t have these massive life-altering realities outside of this table.
“You know what,” I clear my throat. “It’s actually not fine. It’s very not fine.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and feel everyone’s heads turn to me.
Maa raises her brows in surprise, surely because everything is always fine . “Why not, beta?”
I neatly place the cloth back into my lap and for a split second wonder if I’m actually going to go there.
Fuck it.
“Because I feel like my whole life is a lie. I went to a comedy show this week and put on an impromptu performance and it was the best thing I’ve done in over a year, because you know what? I was telling the truth for once.”
I catch a glimpse of Diti, whose cheeks pinken with worry. Arjun stares down at his plate, forking around some grains of rice he’s not actually trying to eat. Mom and Dad stare at me with their full attention. So I power forward.
“That one little show felt so freeing and fulfilling and real , and you know what I did with that? Nothing. Nothing at all! I went back to my normal routine of hiding in plain sight. Hiding from my writers, my producers, my audience, my family.”
“What are you hiding from us?” Dad asks, concern growing on his face.
Diti gives me a small shake of her head from across the table. But what is there left to lose?
“I’m gay.”
Arjun drops his fork with a clatter. Maa looks to Diti, then Dad. Then me.
“I mean…” she says. “We… assumed.”
Arjun chokes. Diti’s eyes go wide. Dad shrugs.
“But you always said you wanted me to settle down with some accountant?”
“Beta, women can be accountants, too.”
And then I laugh.
I laugh and laugh and laugh and realize that everyone else has joined in with me. I take a sip of water to calm down, but then Arjun steps in.
“I’m gay, too.”
“We definitely knew that.”
And we’re all laughing again. Hysterical, wheezing, cathartic laughter.
When it dies down, I ask the question that’s been gnawing at my gut. “And… you’re okay with it?”
“Aarti,” Dad shakes his head. “We love you and Arjun no matter.”
“What about me?” Diti pipes up.
“Now if you’re gay, I will be shocked,” Maa says.
“No, but… I am an alcoholic.”
This time, there’s no laughter. Diti’s eyes are turned down, but with my own, I urge her to look at me.
“I’ve been, uh, not in a good place these past few months,” she says. “Aarti has been hiding it for me and I don’t want to make her do that anymore.”
My heart breaks for Diti. I’ve wanted nothing more than for her to admit she had a problem, but as soon as she does, I want to wrap it back up and put it away for no one else to see.
“But the good news is,” she finally looks at me, “I’ve been going to AA. I’m getting help, and I’m trying to be better. I’ll be one month sober next week.”
“That is very admirable, Diti,” Arjun says.
“It is,” Dad agrees.
Maa’s eyes well with tears and she nods in agreement. “We love you, Diti.”
“I love you, too.”
The rest of our meal is looser than ever before, like finally being honest has unlocked a previously unfathomable level of familial camaraderie.
Arjun announces his engagement and regales all of us with his and Benny’s uproarious wedding planning saga.
Maa invites her brother to bring his fiancé to dinner the following week, and everyone leaves with smiles broader than I’ve ever seen at the conclusion of a Nair dinner.
I squeeze Diti before getting into the car. “Proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says. “Any of it.”
I give her one last hug before I slide into the driver’s seat, heaving a sigh of relief. In no world could I have expected tonight to go the way it did, but everything about it felt so good. So right.
Noa’s words echo in my head. There’s another life out there waiting for you if you’re brave enough to go find it.