Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Fifty-Three : In Between Mothers of Past Lovers

The instant I opened the door, Lila began reading loudly like she was in an elocution competition (with voice modulations and all), "It's like you woke me up then you went to sleep, leaving my eyes wide open to this world. I can't begin with how this world looks without you---"

"Are you kidding me?" I snatched the letter from her, fisting the vulnerable words in anger that I had scribbled years ago to her. It turned into a ball in my hand and as she pounced on me to pry my fingers away, I squeezed the ball. When her strength failed her, she resorted to tickling me and I dodged her, anticipating her move.

"It's mine! You can't it take back!"

"I don't mean it anymore so I can take it back!" I continued squeezing, feeling crumbs of the paper disintegrating like grains of a ladoo. Before she could pounce on me again, I quickly caught her arm and dragged her to my room. "Why are you here anyway? What do you want?"

"You wrote such sweet things in that letter. All I want is you!" she said with a skittish smile, stepping so close to me that I could see her faint moustache. There was not a whiff of her father's cologne on her, in fact, she didn't smell of anything at all. I grew conscious of the little air between us, heavy with her closeness that threatened to extirpate the little space between us. I stepped back instinctively, hitting the wall behind, to allow the air to perforate between us and let me breathe.

"Lila, it's over between us---" my sentence was left hanging halfway as I mutely watched Pavitra brush past us in the room, picking a comb. The moment she turned around, it struck me to push Lila away which I did, but Pavitra didn't throw as much as a glance towards us. Her eyes were droopy like she was sleepwalking. When she left, I resumed, "As I was saying, I don't love you anymore like that. All my feelings for you have been gone for good---"

"Lila?" my mother's surprised voice interrupted my solemn speech as she burst in through the door, coming closer as if she couldn't trust her eyes. "I knew I heard a familiar voice outside! How are you? How are your parents?" When it took a moment for Lila to get over the last question, although her eyes never lost their sparkle, my mother continued in Hindi, "It's good that you came back! After you went to America, Tulsi here was so sad. She doesn't have many friends as you know. She became thinner too. All-day, she slept with that sad look on her face like she was a recent widow---"

"Aai, I didn't sleep all day and I wasn't sad at all. I went to swimming classes with Jazz and others---"

"That was just a few days," she cut me off dismissively, her eyes praising Lila. "How beautiful you look! Wait a minute, let me make something for you. You have come after so long, what do you want to eat?"

"Tulsi," she whispered in my ear, deep and suggestive and the shock of that rendered me speechless and motionless. Then she beamed at my mother, more from satisfaction than her usual liveliness and her voice returned to its chirpiness, "I missed your chaklis so much, aunty!"

"You did?!" Aunty almost cried from happiness at hearing that. "Did you tell your friends about them in America? Three years back, I had sent my snacks to a client in America---" she looked at me, telling me the name of the client of which I had no memory of and my vague nods frustrated her "---Tulsi has a weak memory. Sometimes, she forgets to flush the toilet---"

"You were asking Lila what she wanted to eat."

"Yes, she forgets a lot. She forgot that she loves me!" Lila said in English and my mother smiled uncertainly, doubting her ears and not knowing what to make of what she just said. I didn't either. I was too shocked to defend myself or stuff cotton in her mouth to stop her from blurting out rubbish.

"Yes, yes, she forgets a lot," my mother repeated and after Lila told her what she wanted for a meal without a hint of shame, she said, "Tulsi, come outside." I didn't even get a chance to hesitate due to her pointed look, the look of a murderess. And the second her eyes fell on Lila, that look melted into sugary gentleness. "You wait here, beta. We will be back in a minute."

As I was about to exit, Lila grabbed the balled up letter from me with a cheeky smile, unfurled it like a scroll, then shook it as if drying cloth to flaunt her victory and finally lay on my bed with one hand flung over the diwan like a queen who was reading the royal decree. I threw her the pointed look, the look of a murderess, but that look was pointless when one didn't look. So I carried that look with me, out of the room and in front of my mother who began, "Go buy Lila's favourite ice cream, her favourite cold drink and whatever she likes. Don't buy from the corner store, go to the supermarket. You will get everything fresh there."

"She won't be able to get Pavitra her old job if that's what you're bribing her for," I said plainly.

"Why? What happened? She just needs to put in a good word---"

"Her parents got a divorce. I don't think she talks to her father anymore." Or her mother.

A bad word in Marathi escaped her lips and she quickly covered it up, hoping that I hadn't heard it, "Everyone is on a mission to get divorced these days! They have forgotten our culture. And on top of that Lila's parents are from different religions. They had no culture, to begin with."

"So do you want me to get her ice cream or . . .?'

"Of course, of course! What do you think of me? Besides, Lila has come home after so many days!" She thrust a wad of crumpled notes in my hand, barely aware of how much she was giving me as her mind was racing with thoughts about Pavitra's future. "Go by auto and come soon. She'll get bored all by herself here."

She didn't have to tell me that, even in the rickshaw, my legs were bouncing as if I was mentally running a hundred kilometres per minute. Not because I cared about her entertainment, but because I was afraid she could blurt out something in excitement. And what was all that about? All I want is you? How could she say that after she didn't send a message to me all these years? And now? When everything with Dev was so perfect?

I was standing in between the rows of people at the counter in the supermarket, watching each of Lila's favourite items being scanned and I wondered if she still liked them. That was when I felt someone squeeze my arm, gentle, yet drawing my attention. Lila's mother brushed past me, her eyes flickering to the items as she said in a voice not above a whisper, "If you meet Lila, please ask her to come back."

And she squeezed my arm again, more familiar and loving this time that I watched her in a daze, her sagging, short body with circles underneath her eyes as dark as her lipstick once used to be. When I returned home, I began noticing Lila too, how her eyes were slightly swollen and her moments of silence in between spoonfuls of her favourite ice cream. How she spoke quickly with my mother, to never let the silence prolong and overpower her. How some of her hair was coiled, some like noodles and others limply hanging as if not knowing where they belonged.

She left after the meal and I sank on the form of her impressed on my bed, a form with no eyes that spoke, no nose that sniffed fun, no ears that perked up nor a mouth that stole kisses. . .

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Glossary :

Ladoo- a round sweet.

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