Chapter Nineteen Simi #2
“They combined Rupi and Chachi and came up with Ruchi,” Chandni explains.
“This is fantastic, boys,” their father says. “How much time did it take?”
Everyone moves to hover over Prem’s dad and studies his arm with utter awe.
It’s intricate and vivid. Colors edged with sharp black lines. Snakes and butterflies in a thicket of leaves and flowers. There’s even a tiger, black stripes over orange fur, fierce eyes and sharp teeth. It’s truly beautiful.
“Did they really do this?” Chandni asks.
“We did, we did.” The boys point at each one of the motifs that make up the connected monolithic pattern.
They run to the desk and bring two sketchbooks that are filled with practice drawings.
Pages and pages filled with rough sketches of each of the motifs.
For the three weeks Rupi’s known them, she’s had them drawing and drawing.
Their pride bounces off the pages and explodes into stardust that fills the room.
Their mother is in tears. Their grandmother pulls them close and kisses their heads over and over, and they wrap their arms around her and stay still.
“You like it, Daadi?” Two sets of eyes beg their grandmother unabashedly for praise.
In response, Tanuja picks up her husband’s arm like it’s the most precious thing on earth and drops a kiss on the patterns across his forearm. “I love it!”
“Grampy wanted them. We showed him our sketchbooks, and he wanted them.”
“Pankaj, I didn’t know you liked tattoos,” Prem’s mom says with the sweetest coyness.
Her husband’s eyes glitter naughtily, and he gives another nod.
“I wish I’d known. I would have gotten one for you when I was young and foxy.”
He makes another head motion, his lips quirk, and his eyes shine in a whole different way. He makes a long sound.
“Come on! Now? I’m sixty-five. It’s too late.” Is she blushing?
Finally Rupi speaks. “It’s never too late. I mean. Technically. If one wants it. I’m not saying you should get one.”
“You should get one, Mamma,” Prem says.
Really?
“Oy hoy, look at him. We all know how much you love them. Now you want everyone in the family to get them too?”
“Not everyone,” Prem says, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Just you if you want one.”
She smacks his shoulder. “Stop being silly. But this is great.”
He looks at me. See? his worried eyes say.
“Can we make you some? Please please? Ruchi, can we make them for everyone?”
N his family stands no chance. Which means this ugly, horrible feeling that’s been burning through me is jealousy. Rupi has also been right all along. I’m jealous of my sister.
I. Am. Jealous. Of. My. Sister.
I’ve been struggling to fathom the fact that my sister has everything I’ve ever wanted. When, really, she has nothing at all other than her spirit and her heart. And I’m jealous of her. I’m jealous of her for the things that sustained me through life.
Just as I’m reeling from that, Saj arrives and is immediately accosted by his nephews before he can say hello to anyone else. They drag him to their grandfather. Saj makes the requisite impressed sounds when they show him their artwork.
“There’s Chacha’s tandoori chicken pizza!” the boys announce.
“And you’ve held everyone up for lunch.” Saj’s sister gives him an affectionate slap on the arm. “How can you never be on time?”
“Don’t say that! He’s a good boy,” Prem’s mom says, leading us back to the kitchen.
“And you already know he’s a lawyer,” she says directly to me, taking my hand.
Great. She’s not going to let this go. “And you’re such a beautiful girl.
Isn’t she so beautiful?” She throws the question out to the room in general.
They respond with a chorus of enthused agreement.
Rupi grins. “She is,” she says quietly. “She’s the most beautiful girl on earth. And she’s a beautiful person too.”
“See, that’s what I’m saying,” Tanuja says. “Saj, did you think about what I said that day?” And if that’s not clear enough, she clarifies it further. “Did you ask her out yet? Enough of all this single life.”
Saj gives her a patient look. “I did think about it, Auntie-ji. And I quite like the single life. Not that I don’t agree that Simi is lovely.” He throws a look Prem’s way.
Prem isn’t in the mood to help him out right now. He looks neither angry nor sad, just deeply exhausted. As though this situation has gotten so bizarre, he’s out of reactions.
“See! He thinks you’re lovely, Simi. Look at him, so handsome. Is he not handsome?” She turns to Rupi this time. “Rupi, tell your sister how handsome he is.”
Rupi looks up into Saj’s face and studies it with full bald-faced focus. It’s impressive how he doesn’t shrink away from her scrutiny. “Simi, he’s very handsome,” she says drily. “In that angel-of-death, hired-assassin sort of way.”
Saj gives her a dark look.
Tanuja puts a hand on her hip and regards Saj.
“You know what, you’re right. Such a smart girl.
I think it’s the tattoo artist in you. You see things.
There’s something dashingly dangerous, no?
” She waves a hand around his face. To his credit, he follows the motion with more amusement than anything else.
“Also rich and single! It’s a miracle no one has swooped him up. ”
“I mean, someone did,” Saj says. “I was married.”
This is news to me, but Prem’s mom makes a pish sound.
“Not anymore,” she says. “And it wasn’t for long. Just a few minutes, it felt like.”
“It was three years, Auntie-ji.”
“That’s a few minutes in lifetime terms, no?”
“In that, you are correct.”
“And it doesn’t count, because she was terrible,” she says directly to me.
This makes Saj huff out a laugh. “She wasn’t terrible.”
“See, such a good person. Who protects a woman who hurt him and took all his money?”
He gives a good-natured shake of his head. “She didn’t take all my money. Divorce is expensive.” For some reason, he looks at Rupi when he says this. Then seems to realize this and turns back to Prem’s mom. “And there’s always hurt on both sides when a marriage breaks.”
Rupi’s smile is equal parts mockery and delight. She presses a hand into her hip and matches Tanuja’s pose. “Forget how hot he is, Simi. He’s basically the Dalai Lama. You should totally go out with him.”