Chapter Sixteen #2
‘But how can you, shona ? When it is to do with love, nothing is supposed to be under control. Look at Alice and Bhaskar. You think they have everything under control?’
Timira recalls a memory of them bickering, running around the house, picking up whatever they could find—from unwashed veggies to laundry—and throwing it at each other while letting out the choicest epithets. She sniggers.
‘There isn’t anything much I can do about it, so I’ve decided to let it be. In any case, don’t work yourself up over it. You need to rest.’
Timira walks off on the pretext of doing the laundry.
The washing machine is whirring noisily when someone rings their doorbell.
‘Apa, can you get that?’
‘It’s Alice, Tim! Come say hi!’ Her father has to yell in order for his voice to be audible.
‘Ally! Baby, gimme a sec?’ Timira yells back.
She turns the machine off, and, wiping her damp hands on her cotton skirt, runs to the living room and dives into Alice’s arms.
‘Whoa!’ Alice exclaims, a little surprised but not entirely taken aback by Timira’s display of affection.
‘There, there,’ she pats her on the back and runs her fingers through Timira’s hair as the latter breaks into sobs.
They are tackling the rest of the laundry together after lunch comprising of curd rice, chicken stew and appams that Bhaskar and his mother—who is visiting them currently—had cooked and Alice had brought with her.
‘I must be making my heartbreak really obvious.’
Duh … Alice sympathetically looks at her nutty friend’s scraggly hair, unwashed clothes and patchy skin, but doesn’t say anything.
‘Why do you say so?’
‘Ma brought it up earlier. I mean, not exactly, but sort of.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘Nothing! I told her nothing. I’m sure you’ve brought her up to speed, in any case.’ The last sentence is loaded with sarcasm and she makes a face at Alice. ‘What was I supposed to tell her anyway? You know I’ve never really discussed my love life with her.’
‘Maybe you should! She is cool, you know.’
‘ Haan, bey . My mother’s minion !’
‘I’m your minion, too! But that isn’t the point here. The point is that you should talk to aunty.’
‘Despite the fact that she has been dismissive of all the boys in my life?’
‘Well, you didn’t even tell her about Rodrigo!’
‘She would’ve rejected him, too!’
‘Wouldn’t that have been good? In hindsight, hasn’t she been right about all the boys?’
Timira knows Alice is right but she isn’t about to accept it yet. So she keeps quiet.
‘Give her a chance, Timsy! Your folks had even planned a trip to Seoul along with us to surprise you on your birthday!’
Um, what?
‘Why didn’t you tell me? They didn’t mention it either, humph!’
‘It was supposed to be a surprise, silly!’
Laundry done, Alice has left after making Timira promise that she will stop hiding from her mother. Timira is in the living room now, aimlessly flipping through TV channels when her mother walks in and sits down next to her on the settee.
‘TimTim, is there anything you want to tell me?’
‘Like what, Ma?’ Timira answers dryly.
‘Do you miss him?’
‘Yes,’ Timira answers perfunctorily.
‘And what will you do first when you see him?’
‘Beat him!’ This she says with a sudden burst of passion.
Her mother laughs out loud.
‘Well, then, do it! Catch hold of him and beat him up!’
‘Ma, how? I don’t think there’s anything I’ve not tried.’
‘Look, I’m no expert on love. I mean, my love language is to nag and scold and annoy and worry, like I do you and your apa. You know that. Also, I’m a Boomer. I’m told you lot make memes about our generation. So, what do I know? But, I know you!’
Timira laughs throatily.
‘Who has been telling you about Boomer memes, Ma?’
Bet Bhaskar has been making fun of Ma in my absence! Dutiful stand-in child that he is.
‘But don’t forget that our generation has seen war, loss, hopelessness and then hope. We are the post-Independence generation of romantics. Of course it’s not romance how you young people see it, but don’t dismiss our opinions. Maybe I could add some perspective, for all you know!’
Timira narrates to her mother mostly what Alice has already told her. But to see her daughter’s eyes light up talking about Haneul warms her heart.
My child has grown up well , she thinks to herself. And she believes in love just like I did when I met her father. I’ll teach her all my tricks should this Korean boy turn out to be anything like him!
‘So he hasn’t contacted you in two weeks, and you’ve heard no mention of him during your chats with your common friends.’
‘Pretty much.’
I’m sure they see him but they don’t tell me. I mean, there’s no way Choi Bujangnim doesn’t see him, but he hasn’t mentioned him even once during the calls he’s made since I’ve moved back.
‘But you haven’t called him either!’
‘Why should I? He stopped talking to me even before I left, to be honest. And, now? Now he knows you are sick and still hasn’t called. Everyone knows you are sick. They’ve all checked on you. All except him. He obviously couldn’t care less!’
‘Or maybe he cares too much. And the fact that he can’t be with you when you need him is eating him up. He’s too ashamed of himself to call you!’
‘I’m only a flight away. He could be here if he cared so much. Instead of feeling bad about not being here and then avoiding his guilt by avoiding me. Wow, such logic, much wow! Ma, I think the meds have done a number on your sanity.’
‘I’m old, I’m supposed to have lost a few marbles by now,’ she laughs.
‘But I’m sane enough to see through your nonsense and past your giant ego.
Argh, you are your father’s child in every respect, so why my ego?
Why did you have to inherit my absolute worst quality?
Yes, he should’ve called by now. But if he hasn’t, I’m sure it’s because he has a good reason to not.
You are not one to give up easily, so why now? ’
‘Because I’m tired, mum. I don’t wish to beg people to stay in my life.’
‘Why do you assume they will leave you?’
‘Because they all do!’
‘Timira, if this is about the, er, footballer boy you did not tell me about, and I’m supposed to be clueless about, well, then let me tell you that you are mistaken. He did not leave you. The universe kicked him out of your life because you deserved better. Anybody could see that!’
‘Dang, Ma! You knew everything and kept mum all that time. Wow! How did you manage to keep your calm?’
‘By venting at your dad, how else?’
Timira laughs and smiles fondly, thinking of her puppy-like father dozing off in the living room with the television on.
‘Maybe I really am the jerk magnet my girlfriends think me to be!’
‘Since when do you listen to such insensitive, misogynistic drivel? Calling someone a jerk-magnet means the fault somehow is yours. For having attracted bad energy. C’mon, Timira. You know better than to feed such trolls. Who are these friends? They sound like toxic bullies!’
Oops, I shouldn’t badmouth my friends around Ma. She’ll only weaponize it and attack me later!
‘Ma, I’m okay, right? I’ve done all right, so far, haven’t I?’
Her mother smiles beatifically.
‘Jarhaesseo [Well done]!’
‘Wait, whaaaaaat? How are you speaking Korean?’
Timira is wide-eyed and gaping in astonishment. Her mother beams like an excited child. ‘We were planning to visit you for your birthday, so I asked Alice to teach me a few words.’
Liar! She told you about my Korean crush so you wanted to visit for an inspection. Oh, my cutie-patootie, Miss Marple mummy!
She snuggles up to her mum and wraps her small frame inside her long arms. Feeling safe and fuzzy, Timira burrows her face into her mother’s bosom and announces in a muffled voice, ‘I love you.’
‘And I you. Now tell me, what do you intend to do about this Korean boy you love?’
* * *
It’s Timira’s surprise birthday party. Well, surprise because Timira is in disbelief at having dragged herself out of her house.
It’s the very first time she’s stepped out since coming back from Seoul.
Every cell in her body revolted and expressed its reluctance to go out.
And then Bhaskar and Alice had landed up at her place and threatened to reveal her real age to the young, sweet-as-a-punch bartender at CinCin whom they all suspect has a crush on her because she’s always giving her free shots.
‘Tim, I’ll tell her you are thirty-seven and not twenty-seven. No more free shots for AUNTY!’ Bhaskar had threatened.
Like every good middle-class Indian, Timira loves freebies, especially those containing alcohol. Bhaskar’s threat worked like a charm!
They are now at CinCin. Timira, Alice and Bhaskar—like in Bali.
She’s alternating between watching the game, a massive one between Liverpool and Arsenal to decide who goes to the second spot on the league table, and dancing to a reggaeton playlist with Alice.
All three are slowly getting drunk on Malibu shots and warm beer at their go-to local pub.
Two tables away, two men with pasty skin clad in Arsenal jerseys are abusing Darwin Nunez who has just pumped in a brace.
‘Exkaayuzz me, how dare you speak like that about Darwin? My Darwin! MY, mine. Who do you think you are?’
Feeling outraged on behalf of her Liverpool FC-loving BFF, Bhaskar, she feels it’s her duty to fight.
Rolling up the sleeves of the boyfriend shirt she’s thrown over her sports bra, she prepares to get nasty.
But before she can land a blow, she feels herself getting lifted off the ground and her feet floating in the air as they drift away.
Outside the pub, as her feet hit the ground, the bright lights hit her eyes and she winces, promptly shutting them.
Eyes still shut, she goes around asking for a lighter in slightly slurred speech.
She fails to spot a manhole and is about to slip right in when she feels a pair of strong arms preventing her from doing so.
‘Stop! Who are you? Where are you taking me? Why are you touching me? Don’t touch me!’