Custody (39 page)

‘Then?’

‘Then what? I don’t think she will, that’s all.’

‘She did once.’

‘That was to get a divorce. And it might be worse for us in the long run if we don’t send her. She is certain to fight.’

‘To fight she will have to come here, no?’

‘Not if she gives someone power of attorney,’ said Raman tiredly. He looked at the children running about in the park although the sun was burning. Children will be children, playing at all hours, no matter what. How much does it really matter who looks after them?

Everything about the situation tore at him. It would be futile consulting anybody else, they would judge Roohi’s interests according to their own loves and grievances. The child herself was too young. What did she know of mothers except that they were replaceable?

‘I think my heart will break,’ Ishita said as they got into the elevator. ‘I can’t bear this half-here-half-there. I have given her everything – not because of you, but because of her.’

‘I know, dearest, I know.’

‘Sometimes I think I was better off at Jeevan, caring for many children, but loving none as a parent. Now only one child – but I feel this constant tension in my head with the fear of losing her.’

She smiled at him faintly, a twisted smile. Eventually they decided that when the time came to send her, they would provide a medical certificate. The details could be figured out later.

Raman’s thoughts now inconveniently wandered in a direction Ishita thought completely unnecessary. ‘I wonder if Roohi might object when later on she discovers we kept her from her mother.’

‘Don’t you think it’s our duty to keep her from being manipulated, while she is still so small? Besides, she will not object.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘How? Because she is better off with us. Besides, we are not
keeping-keeping
her away for ever.’

‘I have heard stories of children who go to considerable lengths to establish relations with their birth mothers when they grow up.’

‘Where are these children?’

And Raman had to confess they were abroad.

‘Here people are not so bothered,’ replied Ishita. ‘Roo will be fine, I will explain everything to her when she is older.’

Raman was left with the bleak realisation that he could empathise with Shagun pining for her daughter, because he pined so much for Arjun.

Meanwhile Shagun to her mother:

Dearest Mama,

Yesterday was our fourth anniversary, imagine four years since we met at that fateful party at the Oberoi! To celebrate he took me to Veda where they have fusion Indian cuisine. He wanted to eat desi khanna, rarely for him. To commemorate the country of our love.

Tomorrow we are going to the Lincoln Center, to hear some symphony, the last of the season. He has bought me a gown to wear for such occasions. He says nobody will guess I am Indian, not in a million years.

I can’t wait to see you and the children. I have timed my visit to India to coincide with their holidays, so I can take them back with me. You know my initial efforts have borne fruit, and I am setting up a small import business. Once I establish my sources I will be on more secure ground.

Ashok helped me in the initial stages, mainly by getting me introductions to buyers here. He thinks I brood too much, nothing I say makes any difference.

You have a bug in your head about pilgrimages – now you want to go to Vaishnodevi! On your own! Don’t you know that there can be avalanches and stampedes, and what all, what all. I will take you as soon as I can, I promise. And please don’t fast for me, I am fine.

Do you ever get to see Roo? Raman must know she misses you. Do please phone him Mama – and ask if she can come over – he can be there the whole time if he wants. He is beginning to show signs of paranoia, as though I would kidnap the children! True, one does hear of such cases, but Ashok would never allow it.

Mama, also find out if Roo is happy in school? Of all places OSC!!!!!!!!!!!! Trust Raman to send her to a convent. He is so boring and conventional. Look at Arjun’s school, the best in India, then look at Roo’s, a has-been convent. Honestly.

Lots of love, Shagun

PS Don’t forget to call Roo over.

Three days later.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I got a phone call from Mrs Sabharwal.’

‘Can’t they leave us alone?’

‘She says she misses the children.’

‘Whose fault is that?’

‘She wants to see Roo. At one time we used to go over a lot. Now she sounds so sad and lonely.’

‘Go, by all means. I don’t know how much this will remind Roo of that woman, but yes, I suppose it will look bad if you refuse.’

The careful tones of his wife were not lost on the husband. Later, as Ishita was putting the child to sleep, Raman turned on the TV, and spent a long time staring at successive images of the world’s misery. In the light of all this, he wished he could consider his own tribulations minor.

The high voice of his daughter penetrated his thoughts in the drawing room. Ever since his marriage she had been the centre around which both their lives revolved.

Clearly Ishita did not feel threatened by a visit to the grandmother, or perhaps she felt her objections would seem more reasonable if only confined to Shagun. So it was up to him.

He thought of all those times he had parked outside the Sabharwal gate in Alaknanda, waiting for his children. Not once had his ex-mother-in-law ever tried to talk to him, let alone sympathise with him. So much for the years of caring. How often had she said, you are like a son to me. Now another son had taken his place.

Thinking of all this made him far angrier with Mrs Sabharwal than he had ever been before. Even the memory of the fried potatoes and rajma chawal he had once enjoyed made him sick. There wasn’t anything in court agreements about the rights of grandmothers, why then should he acknowledge them?

The next time Mrs Sabharwal phoned, Raman was distant and polite. He was sorry, but Roo refused to visit Alaknanda. Maybe the place had bad associations for her. But he thought it detrimental to the child’s mental equilibrium to be exposed to the past. Cruelly he used words she would not understand, speaking in English that she was not comfortable with.

Stammering, Mrs Sabharwal got off the phone. No matter how mean it made him feel, Raman was determined to look after his own interests.

Dear Papa,

The school buses will come to Nehru Stadium on June 1st. Next day Roo and I will go to Naani’s place. Mama will be waiting for us there. I won a point for my house because I did so well in my exams. Rest is fine.

Arjun

The morning of May 30th.

‘I was thinking,’ said Ishita.

‘What?’ Raman was looking moodily at his breakfast. Ishita had made him an egg-white Spanish omelette with low-fat cheese, chicken, ham and mushrooms. But she might as well not have bothered for all the appetite he was exhibiting.

‘Why are you so – so unlike yourself?’

‘I am fine.’

A wise wife does not push, and this one now continued as though nothing had happened. ‘Anyway, I was thinking that perhaps Roo and I can spend the night with my parents?’

‘Why?’

‘Sweetheart, you know he is allergic to the sight of me.’

‘But I think Arjun would like to see his sister. You can say what you like about two mothers, but he is her only brother.’

‘Boys that age are usually impatient with little girls,’ she said carefully.

‘Arjun is not like other boys.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that. But I do know that Roo never mentions him.’

‘Are you going to make sure brother and sister never meet?’ he asked.

‘Isn’t it more sensible? If we send a medical certificate, and Arjun says Roo is perfectly fine, he saw this with his own two eyes – then we will have a contempt-of-court case on our hands.’

Raman knew this logic was unanswerable. He said nothing as he watched her pack a small bag and tell her daughter they were going to spend the day with the grandparents, wouldn’t that be nice?

‘Papa too?’

‘No, beta, not Papa. He has some work to do.’

So she was not even going to tell her that her own brother was coming. The injustice of this smote his heart and as they put their things into the car he said, ‘Bhaiyya is coming, darling.’

‘Bhaiyya?’

‘Yes.’

‘From where?’

‘School. Dehradun.’

Once one starts to tell, more things yearn to be let out of the bag in order to gambol in the wide spaces of the hitherto hidden. ‘Would you like to meet him? He often asks about you.’

Not this time,’ said Ishita quickly. ‘Now say bye to Papa.’

A nervous shadow crossed Roohi’s small features. Ishita took her daughter’s hand and they both waved to Raman as the car carefully backed out of the driveway onto the road, leaving the man standing there alone watching them disappear into the pandemonium that was Delhi traffic.

Why was it not possible to have everybody he loved under one roof? thought Raman. If he was another sort of man, perhaps he would have handled such things better.

Nehru Stadium, the Academy buses, and in the second one, Arjun.

Raman’s eyes greedily drank in his son. Dehradun certainly suited him. There was a rosy glow on his face which brought great pleasure to the father’s heart.

‘You look good.’

‘This midterm we went to Tope Sarai.’

‘Midterms?’

‘I
told
you about
midterms.’

‘Yes, yes, now I remember. And where is Tope Sarai?’

‘In the mountains of course.’

‘Did you camp there?’

‘Ya. And trekking.’

Raman thought bitterly that Ashok would more readily understand every reference to DPA and its activities, even though he could never be one-millionth as interested in Arjun as he himself was. In the step-parent department, his daughter was luckier than his son.

‘So tomorrow I will drop you off at your grandmother’s, but today we are going to enjoy ourselves. At home I have got your favourite food made for you. Shammi kebabs and chicken curry. Later on we can order pizza. No point going out when you are with me just one day.’

At the mention of food Arjun brightened. ‘That’s nice, Papa.’

It only took the slightest of connecting for Raman’s heart to be submerged with love. He beamed and said, ‘It’s a pity we have so little time now, but on your way back from your mother, we will really have fun, I promise.’

Again the boy smiled, and Raman allowed himself to think that maybe the rough patch with his son was over.

Inside the house, Arjun demanded, ‘Where is Roohi?’

Oh no, no, no. ‘She is not well.’

‘Mama said you might say she is not well,’ accused the boy in proxy rage.

‘Children fall ill.’

‘Where is she? In hospital?’

This was such a good suggestion that he grabbed it. ‘Yes. Under observation.’

‘Mama said to bring her. She
said.’

‘Well, beta, not everything is in our hands. You have done what you can. If Roohi is ill, how can you or I help that? Don’t worry. I will explain things to your mother. Tell her to phone me.’

‘All right.’

By now the boy had lost interest in the matter. He chattered to Ganga and Ganesh. They made much of him. Ganga said Bhaiyya was looking healthy, growing taller too. The house was not the same without him. Ganesh asked what did he eat in school?; he always thought of Bhaiyya when he made shammi kebabs.

The day passed pleasantly enough.

At six o’clock the next evening Raman dropped Arjun at Alaknanda. Then he started on his way home. How soon before Shagun would phone?

His cell rang while he was driving. He ignored it. It rang again, then again. Rage emanated from the instrument; he switched it off. He wished he could ignore her calls for ever, but bleakly realised he would have to go on dealing with his ex-wife as long as his children were young.

‘Why weren’t you answering?’

‘I was driving.’

‘Where is she?’

‘Not well.’

‘You told Arjun she is in hospital.’

‘She is.’

‘And you sitting at home?’

‘I only came here because of Arjun.’

‘Do you expect me to believe this?’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘You don’t know what the truth is.’

‘Why talk to me then?’

‘You think I want to talk to you? But we share children.’

Silence. He was sick of the whole thing. Parting from his son had been a wrenching experience – he wanted to be alone for a few hours before Ishita and Roohi came home.

‘All right. Go on, lie to me. What was wrong with her?’

‘High fever. They thought she might go into convulsions. She is in the nursing home under observation.’

‘Which nursing home?’

‘Little Angels.’

‘Who is with her?’

‘That’s not your concern.’

To Shagun the whole scenario screamed of duplicity. Yet Roohi had had convulsions when she was a year old. The paediatrician had said they might have to take her to the hospital, if they continued. She had sat with her the whole night, sponging her, making sure the temperature remained down. Would the new wife be careful of her in the same way? Who but a mother could do these things?

Raman sensed the slight hesitation on the other end of the line and congratulated himself for thinking on his feet. He had sounded calm and assured, did Shagun imagine she could walk all over their lives whenever she wished?

‘I suppose she was also sick when you refused to send her to my mother?’

This habit of hers, of putting him in the wrong, was still functioning wonderfully.

‘She didn’t want to go.’

‘I don’t believe that. The children love their naani.’

‘Love is hardly the issue here, is it, Shagun? What about betrayal?’

‘Uff! Just tell me, when can you send her?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I have come all the way just to take her. Now this is what you do. You are a real bastard, you know that, Raman? A total fucker.’ By now her voice was harsh with fury.