Custody (43 page)

‘They are going to Singapore. Head of region,’ said Raman to Ishita later that evening.

‘When?’

‘Not sure.’

‘Maybe 9/11 scared them.’

‘I somehow doubt that.’

‘Just our luck. They should stay in the US for ever. What is the need for them to come here?’

‘Oh, God knows. He is practically CEO now.’

Her hands began to tremble. Were the little people once more going to be trampled underfoot?

‘It may not be so bad,’ said Raman, carrying her fingers to his lips to greet some garlic.

What did he know? It could be so bad, it had been. They were not wheeler-dealers. Her husband was such a straight man – anybody could take him for a ride – anybody.

‘If that woman dares to come near my daughter, I am not responsible for the consequences.’

‘What can you do? I have told you they have the law on their side, it is we who are breaking it.’

‘So are you just going to wait for them to come and take her?’

Quarrels with the outside world easily turn inwards, and Raman now found he couldn’t bear the high pitch in which Ishita expressed her anxiety. Abruptly he let go the haldi-stained hand.

He looked at her. She was wearing a kaftan, long, loose, unshapely, picked up from the street racks at Janpath. Her hair was unkempt, she smelt faintly of sweat and the kitchen. Don’t worry, he tried to soothe, but such words were meaningless, more fragile than straws in the wind.

‘I can’t help it. She is everything to me – I loved her before I loved you.’

‘There is no point anticipating the worst – it creates tension and upsets all of us. Think of how Roohi will feel.’

‘Believe me, I think of nothing else.’

That he knew was true.

‘I didn’t even get ready for you,’ said Ishita forlornly. ‘And it’s so late. I don’t feel like doing anything.’

‘Stop this worry,’ he repeated. ‘How is it going to help if you wander around like this, looking so stressed? What will Roo think?’

‘What does it matter what she thinks, when I may not even have her?’

‘How can you say that? At the most we are talking
visits.’

‘Visits.
I know what visits mean. The kind of thing Arjun used to say to Roo – she’s not your mother, she’s not your mother. You think a twelve – thirteen – fourteen – fifteen-year-old boy can be bothered to think of all that on his own? That he would even care?’

‘I don’t want you to worry so much, all right? Day and night, all you do is think about this
one
thing.’

‘Fine – but if she goes away, she will be poisoned by that woman. You tell me, am I wrong?’

‘What can I tell you? With her present partner she has changed completely. You know I have no clue as to how her mind works.’

‘Didn’t she poison Arjun against me? I wanted us to have a good relationship. I knew he would not accept me as his mother. But to treat me as an enemy? If that happens with Roo I will run away and die.’

‘Ishu – why are you so extreme? What’ll I do if you run away and die?’

‘I am just telling you what I can and cannot do. And be distant from the child who was once all my heart, that is not possible for me.’

‘All or nothing?’

‘Can you be a sometime parent?’

‘What about her? What is she going to feel if you turn away from her?’

‘What do you want from me? I am doing everything I can.’

Raman was silent, the spectre of King Solomon flitting across his mind.

‘What? You are just going to sit there with your head in your hands and say nothing?’

‘I have nothing to say.’

Ishita glanced at him with irritation. This whole trouble was due to his foolishness in marrying such a woman. Men were so taken in by the appearance of things, but as she laid a hand on his knee, she realised it was pointless to go on pretending to view their problem from the same perspective.

Later he thought how sick he was of children. People talked of the joys they brought; why were the sorrows so seldom mentioned, sorrows that could corrode your whole life, that far outweighed the heartache of a faithless love?

In the mean time Nandan:

‘If you want to get rid of this problem, we’ll have to file another case.’

‘Saying what?’

‘Saying it is in the best interests of the child for you to have sole custody. She cries, her health is bad, she refuses to leave her stepmother.’

‘Yes, and how can we send her so far?’

‘Let us not make it an issue of distance. Shagun can always say she will come here – in fact she came once to see the minor and you sent a medical certificate. The judge will probably call the child – she is, how old?’

‘Seven now.’

‘Too young. But still we can try. And it will take some time before the hearing. We have to prove that it is in her interests not to meet the birth mother. That is difficult, you know. But otherwise we have no case.’

‘In her mind she only has one mother, and that is Ishita.’

‘All the simpler then. She just has to say so. And let us hope the judge is sympathetic.’

And ruin the bloom of his daughter’s innocence. Introduce her to courtrooms, biological versus actual mothers, make her renounce one in favour of another in front of a judge – why should he have to put Roohi through this?

The darkness inside Raman grew blacker. It was so palpable that it reached out and touched Nandan. He had seen parents push their children into making all kinds of statements – into saying they hated the other parent, they never wanted to see him/her again. The spirit of revenge burned bright and strong in such households. Raman’s motives might be purer, his concern for wife and child deeper, but the result would be the same. His daughter would have to make such statements in court.

‘We are only lucky that for whatever reason, she hasn’t made a case for contempt,’ went on Nandan. ‘The longer she takes, the less likely it is for her to succeed. To forestall that, we are filing this petition – in response to which she can either cite contempt, which will do her no good, or prevent you from seeing Arjun. Which by now is more or less what happens anyway.’

They filed their case pleading that it would be psychologically damaging to force the minor to visit her birth mother when she had no desire to. She was happily adjusted to school, her day was full of friends, family and activities. Her stepmother and she had a loving relationship, separation would be cruel.

Ishita meanwhile organised her forces. ‘Roo?’ she started.

‘Umm.’

Ishita stared at her daughter. Since she had married Raman, she frequently heard how alike they looked. Sometimes she could see it too. In the way the child talked, moved her hands, the expressions she used. Her looks had improved too – the little face was now open, the chatter endlessly engaging, the intelligence alert.

‘Beti?’

Roohi looked up – it was not like her mother to be so tentative.

‘What, Mama?’

For the first time she appreciated Raman’s reluctance to swim in these murky waters. She wished she had the luxury of Raman’s hesitations.

‘Come here, darling.’ Ishita opened her arms. Roohi crept into them. ‘You are my precious, precious girl. You will never forget that, will you?’

The child’s head bobbed obediently.

‘I wonder do you remember that other woman who once lived here?’

The bob was indistinguishable.

‘Suppose, beta, she – or somebody – tried to come and take you away from me—’

A long pause in which the full import of this was allowed to sink into the child’s mind.

‘Then what would you do?’

No answer.

‘You have to say – darling – you will have to say that your real parents are Mama and Papa. And if anybody asks you your mama’s name, or who is your mama, you have to say … ?’ Here she tightened her grip, to emphasise the gravity of the question. ‘What will you say?’

‘You.’

‘Ishita. You have to take my name, and say Ishita.’

Roohi kept quiet.

‘Do you want to know why I am saying all this?’

The daughter made no response, and so the mother had to tell her without encouragement. Once there was a wicked woman who was very beautiful. Despite having two wonderful children and a loving husband, she chose another man. The husband fell very, very sick. The boy was sent to boarding school. The girl, the sweetest little girl in the world, was left alone. Then Ishita came – she loved the father, she loved the little girl. Slowly the family that had been so wantonly destroyed was rebuilt.

The body beneath the chin grew rigid, but these were knives that had to be wielded.

Now the little girl was very brave. When the evil woman dragged her to court—

‘What’s court?’

Court was a place where a judge decided fights between people. Suppose two people are fighting over a piece of land – then they will go to court – and the judge will decide who keeps the land. When people fight over children the same thing happens. The piece of land can’t speak – can’t say oh I want to stay with this person who waters me, and gives me manure – but the child can speak. She can say, I want to stay with this person who feeds me, looks after me, gets my friends over, does everything a mother does for a daughter.

‘I have to do my homework, Mama.’

‘In a minute, darling. There is only a bit left.’

‘What?’

‘Only this. Do you think you can tell the judge that you don’t want to see the woman who left you? You don’t want anything to do with her?’

Roo nodded.

‘And stay with us?’

Roo nodded again.

That night Ishita was calmer. She had taken steps to anchor what was hers. How clearly the child had understood the whole issue! Better than her father.

‘Beti, what’s the matter? Every time I see you, it is with a long face. Is this why you got married?’

Ishita immediately felt morally deficient. ‘It’s nothing, Auntie.’

‘When you were here you looked much better. The children keep asking after you. Where is Didi? Where is Didi?’

‘I also miss them, Auntie. They at least appreciated me.’

They had. For a few hours she had distracted them from poverty, alcoholism, illiteracy and domestic violence. Her place in their lives was there for all to see.

‘You are not appreciated now?’

Ishita chose not to answer this question. Instead she told Mrs Hingorani about the case they had filed.

Now it was Mrs Hingorani’s turn to look sad. Solving family problems in court was not something she approved of. Adults should behave like adults, not like the children they were fighting over. Really, why did people have babies if they were going to subject them to the messes of their own desires?

‘Couldn’t it be decided out of court?’

‘We had no choice. She is coming here with her new husband. He is now head of region. She can kidnap the child, do anything. You have no idea of how heartless she is, how manipulative.’

‘She was very pretty,’ said Auntie judiciously, ‘though I only saw her a few times.’

‘That was just the problem. Her looks blinded everybody to her true nature.’

And then Ishita changed the subject because she didn’t want Mrs Hingorani to think she was jealous of Shagun. It was only with her mother that she felt free to discuss her feelings about the ex-wife, only her mother who intuitively understood the extent of her insecurity, who would pray for her, fast for her. Subconsciously she relied on the strength of those talismans, feeling they had more or less worked so far.

The reply to their petition came. The earlier agreement was quoted. The petitioner was already in contempt for denying access to the minor. His excuses were
mala fide.
At one point he had alleged the minor was in hospital, but changed his story when the mother wanted to see her, and claimed the child was convalescing at home. Numerous other examples of malfeasance followed. In conclusion the respondent asked for custody of both children.

Nandan was right, said Raman, it was a big mistake on her part not to have filed contempt at the first cited instance. I wonder why she was so badly advised. This lawyer of theirs is just a big-name lawyer – some school connection of Ashok’s, I do believe – so much for DPA. They talk as though it contained the cream of the country – when all it contains is the scum.

His wife agreed.

Every day Ishita felt she was treading on eggshells. When she looked at Roohi she saw a vulnerable creature going about her business unaware of the predator crouching in the bushes nearby. She tried to warn her against strangers, particularly a woman claiming she was her mother, whom she might even remember, but who was NOT TO BE TRUSTED. Like witches in fairy tales, she would come disguised as beautiful in order to gain the child’s trust, but in reality she was out to harm her. Her intention was to capture Roo and take her far, far away.

Enough, said her husband.

‘Why enough? We are not in a normal situation. She has to be able to tell the judge what is best for her. On her one answer depends our whole lives.’

‘Don’t exaggerate,’ said Raman sharply. He hated what Ishita was doing – but exercising power over children, moulding them in order that they survive their circumstances was not something he was good at.

This was the time for tough love, said Ishita. Softness, niceness, gentleness had their place, but in other circumstances.

Raman ceased to protest. He too was afraid of his daughter being taken away, and he could trust neither himself nor the law to prevent this.

So he watched Roo’s face grow tense, held her when she crept into their bed at night because of her bad dreams, silently helped change the sheets when she wet them, noticing how Ishita did her best to soothe and comfort the child. Soon the whole thing would be over, and they would be able to live a normal peaceful existence, that so many others (Nandan for example) took for granted.

His wife had a quality he knew he lacked. Maybe it was the tough love she kept talking about.

Mama dear,

We have filed for contempt of court, and demanded custody of both children. Whatever happens I can’t be worse off than I am now. In the end Ashok came through and got in touch with Madz. Madz told him action should have been taken earlier, but Ashok wasted no time on that. Do your best, I have full faith in you.