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Authors: Yashodra Lal

Tags: #FICTION

Sorting Out Sid (16 page)

BOOK: Sorting Out Sid
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He briefly wondered whether to call Aditi, or his parents. He decided upon his parents. He knew that Aditi didn’t like to be called during work hours. She was overly focused on that boring audit job of hers. He picked up his cellphone to call his parents.

He dialled the number from memory just to prove he remembered it. Of course, he would, given that it was the landline number for the same house where he had grown up in Lucknow. The number was imprinted in his memory. Nothing had changed about his childhood home, including his parents, except that they were now older … and crankier.

The phone rang about seven times and Sid tried to guess which one of his parents would be ambling towards the phone. Of course, he had given them both their own cellphones, but they seldom used them despite his repeated attempts at emphasizing their necessity, especially in case of emergencies.

The phone was eventually answered by a deep voice. ‘Hello?’ This voice too was a part of Sid’s formative years and imprinted in his mind.

‘Hello, Papa,’ Sid said in a low voice and then cleared his throat realizing that this wasn’t his old cubicle and there was no one around to hear him. He repeated in a much louder and heartier voice, ‘Hello, Papa?’

‘I’m not deaf yet, young man,’ was the irritated response from his father. ‘Why are you shouting? What happened?’

‘Ummm … nothing happened, Papa. I’m calling just like that. Can’t I call Ma and you just to talk?’

His father’s voice was cantankerous. ‘That’s what we keep asking you to do, and yet this is the first time you’re calling in weeks. And Mandira hasn’t called in months. Your mother’s very upset.’

Sid leaned back in his new VP chair and sighed. He clutched his forehead with one hand and with the other held his phone a little distance away from his ear. He briefly considered protesting that he had spoken to Ma that very morning about his parents’ impending trip, but decided to hold back. ‘Your mother’s very upset,’ was his father’s code for, ‘I am very upset.’ But he could never say that directly, of course. Sid knew him well enough to pick up the signals, and the only way to deal with the signals was to drop them again. There was no way he was ever going to be able to please his father anyway, not even if Sid lived to be a hundred himself. But right now, he had good news to share, and he wasn’t going to let go of the opportunity.

‘Papa, listen,’ Sid said, ‘I’m calling to tell Ma and you that I’ve been promoted. I’ve become a vice president in the company. It’s a really big post.’

There was silence at the other end of the line. Sid waited. Finally his father spoke. ‘Vice president? I thought you would be president by now! It’s expected, of course.’

Sid cringed at the use of the phrase he hated throughout his childhood and even now. Every single achievement was always dismissed with those hateful words, ‘It’s expected.’ His father went on, ‘Anyway, this must mean that you’re ignoring
your mother’s wishes to move to Lucknow. Becoming a big man in the Delhi company.’ Sid heard his father shifting the phone around and his voice started to fade away as he said, ‘Here … you might as well talk to your mother.’ Sid heard him muttering as the phone receiver changed hands at the other end of the line. Sid didn’t hear what his father was saying because he was busy muttering himself, ‘Congratulations, Sid … Congratulations. How difficult is it to say? Why do I even bother … it’s just pointless…’

‘What, beta?’

‘Hello, Ma,’ he boomed with all the false cheer he could muster. ‘How are you?’

‘Did you say you’ve been promoted? That’s wonderful, beta.’ Sid thought he heard his mother’s voice break, and he groaned inwardly. Why was his mother so emotional? Sid’s parents were polar opposites. One would think that such opposites would have, over the course of about forty years of togetherness, balanced out one another. Well, one would be wrong.

‘Haan, Ma,’ Sid mumbled, ‘I’m a vice president now.’

‘Arrey wah! I must make your favourite halwa today.’

Sid protested, ‘Ma, I can’t eat it, why would you tire yourself with that…’

‘Oh no … no, I will use it as prasad for the evening puja. Mandira must be so happy?’

Sid sighed, making a face. ‘Yes, Ma, she is happy. I know you’ve been trying to talk to her, she’s just been busy with work … and anyway, you’ll be seeing her when you come next week.’ That dreaded visit, but at least it would keep her from pursuing the topic over the phone. Ma had never been close to Mandira, but with the passage of time and the lessening
of interaction she had painted this picture of Mandira as a loving daughter-in-law in her own head. How delusional we can be about relationships, wondered Sid. He didn’t want to think about how much that applied to him. ‘Achcha, Ma … I’ve got to go now.’

‘Haan, beta, but don’t work too late today. You must go out and celebrate with Mandira tonight!’

‘Bye, Ma.’

Sid hung up and then stared at his cellphone. Celebration. Yes, he would go out and celebrate. Only then would it feel as if something big had happened. He obviously wasn’t going out with Mandira … but someone for sure

who?

Sid decided to take a risk and call Aditi. Perhaps she wouldn’t bite his head off when she heard that he was calling not just to gas but to actually tell her about an important event in his life and invite her to celebrate.

Aditi answered her phone after two rings, hissing at him in a loud whisper, ‘Sid, I’m in a meeting, I’ll have to call you back.’

Sid whispered back, unconsciously imitating her, ‘Oh okay … but actually I just want to tell you…’

He realized Aditi had already hung up.

Usually, Sid would share this sort of stuff with Vikas, but he was done sharing things with Vikas. Been sharing a little too much with him, he thought bitterly, and quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

He looked around his new office again. It was nice. Big. Kind of cold and lonely though. It’s lonely at the top, he thought dramatically, especially when the rest of your life is bottoming out. Wait … no … no, things weren’t bad at all. He looked at his phone again. There must be
someone
he could
call to celebrate with him this evening. He had lots of friends, right? Why couldn’t he remember any of them right now?

Sid started scrolling through his recent calls and spotted a missed call from an unfamiliar number. Who is this? Oh yes, at the end of their evening together, she had asked for his number and in line with the social norm these days, he had then asked her to give him a missed call so that he could save hers too.

He stared at her number for a long time. He hadn’t saved it and it had been deliberate. After all, there had been that little voice inside his head that warned him that it was best not to push it. He should quit while he was still ahead. He wasn’t very clear why but the little voice was still warning him to stay away from her.

So why was it exactly that he was dialling her number now?

He held his breath. When she picked up, Sid said in as even a voice as he could manage, ‘Hello, Neha, not disturbing you I hope?’

Actually, he had always been pretty good at ignoring that little voice.

4

The Oriental Kitchen

‘N
ot bad, Sid. Not-a bad-a.’

Sid gazed at his reflection in the car mirror and then looked down at his clothes. Yes, even sharper than usual. On this first date, he wanted to make sure all was perfect. Although, he corrected himself, it wasn’t a date, really. Sid pulled up to park in his usual spot in front of Aditi’s house. He would rather walk than drive around to find Neha’s place in the maze of Sherwood Towers. Hmmm … Aditi lived in Elm Tower while Neha lived in Birch. No hope for any sort of alphabetical logic, of course, they named the towers after some fancy, foreign trees. Silly complex, this, although he had to admit that Neha living there made him look at the place more kindly. Okay … Juniper … Cypress … Birch … Birch! That was pretty quick.

He checked his watch as he went into Neha’s building

bang on time. This was going well so far. Out of habit, Sid took the stairs instead of the elevator, but he soon realized that while Aditi lived on the first floor, Neha lived on the thirteenth. Never mind, he was feeling all pumped, and he wouldn’t mind getting in a little exercise; he didn’t want to get soft.

He was soon huffing and puffing so badly that he abandoned the plan of walking up all the way. Which floor was it? Oh, only the third. Never mind. On second thoughts, he didn’t want to get all sweaty right now. He pressed the button for the elevator, still panting. He had made a booking at his favourite Chinese restaurant, the Oriental Kitchen

posh and expensive and tiny portions, but the food was so, so good. Besides, it was a special evening. Not a date, of course. But a celebration, yes.

On the thirteenth floor, Sid looked around

the apartments weren’t numbered and this exasperated him, but then he caught sight of one front door with a painting hung right next to it. Most people would have mistaken it for a photograph, but he had an eye for photography and immediately knew this wasn’t one. It was a small likeness of an earthen teapot with an empty cup next to it and two slices of lemon on a plate. It was at once unobtrusive and welcoming and Sid had a strong feeling it was something Neha would have picked up. The strains of ABBA that he could hear through the door were an additional clue. He rang the bell, humming along, ‘
There was something in the air that night

the stars were bright
…’ Maybe ABBA wasn’t all that vile. He didn’t often go out with a near stranger

actually, he couldn’t remember ever doing so. It was nice to do something different for a change.

The door opened and Neha stood smiling, clearly all set to go. She looked even tinier than the last time he had seen her, and he glanced down at her feet unconsciously. No heels today, just green flat sandals. But they complemented well the figure-hugging green dress that accentuated her curves. Neha had her curly hair pulled back into a small ponytail today and this only served to highlight her sharp features and
high cheekbones. She looked great

not a fairy, but impish, especially that smile. Sid knew he should be complimenting her but all he could manage was a happy, shy grin.

‘Heyy … Sid. We’re all ready to go and
so
happy about our little evening out.’

Sid thought it was a slightly strange thing to say, but then perhaps Neha was a trifle eccentric. And it was true they were both obviously looking forward to it. So he returned warmly, ‘We sure are, aren’t we?’

Neha’s attention was on something else. Sid got the impression that she was examining the back of her sandals. She then said in a voice several pitches higher, ‘Hello, Sid-Uncle.’

Okay, eccentric was one thing, but this was now teetering dangerously close towards loony. It was then that Sid noticed the tiny head, peeping from behind Neha’s legs, with a curly mop of hair and big brown eyes that looked at him appraisingly. Oh

her daughter, of course. Cute little thing

and what a relief, Neha wasn’t calling him uncle, after all.

‘This is Kippy, she’s just being coy.’

Sid bent down and said, ‘Hello … Kipster.’ He couldn’t bring himself to call her Kippy. ‘What’s up?’ But the head had already disappeared again behind Neha’s legs.

Neha laughed lightly. ‘Oh, she’s always like this in the beginning. She’ll be fine once she gets to the restaurant.’

‘Oh, she’s going out somewhere too?’

Neha grinned appreciatively. ‘You’re so funny, Sid. Really.’

He stared at her for a moment, and then recovered. ‘Ha ha. Of course, she’ll be fine. Once we all get to the restaurant.’ Years of practice helped hide all traces of emotion and Sid boomed, ‘Well, come on, what are we waiting for? Let’s go

all three of us!’

Neha adjusted her little green purse, and taking Kippy by the hand led her through the door and closed it behind them. Sid followed them slowly towards the elevator. For their little evening out.

‘I’m really sorry about this, Sid,’ Neha called from the driver’s seat.

BOOK: Sorting Out Sid
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