Sorting Out Sid (31 page)
‘Meditation your new thing, sweetie?’
Neha opened her eyes, smiling at the sound of the familiar voice. Aditi stood there, grinning at her. She was wearing her jogging tracks and had little Ayaan holding on to her hand.
‘Hi, Aaayaan!’ Neha reached out to hug the brown-haired, little boy who acquiesced only for a brief moment before skipping off towards Kippy, who was now kicking around her ball by herself.
‘You’re home earlier than usual,’ said Aditi.
‘You too, aren’t you?’ Neha replied. ‘And all ready for a jog?’
‘Yep!’ Aditi sat down next to Neha and put an arm around her. ‘But how could I resist the opportunity to spend some time with my friend, who is obviously too occupied with other things these days!’
Neha’s smile widened with Aditi’s typical probing statement, but she said nothing. The two of them sat in silence for a while, watching their kids play. Ayaan was trying to convince Kippy to give him her ball, and she was stoutly refusing.
Finally, Aditi called out, ‘Ayaan, leave her alone … she’s small.’
Neha cut her off, ‘It’s okay, Adu. Let them sort it out themselves.’
Aditi didn’t look convinced, but turned her attention to Neha. ‘So, what’s up with you these days?’
‘All good. Just one thing after another, the usual stuff.’
‘Hmm,’ said Aditi. She hesitated before venturing, ‘You get the feeling we don’t talk much any more?’
This was true. And Neha knew it because she was now spending all her extra time with Sid. Earlier, Aditi would find snatches of time from her own schedule to come and see Neha. These days, however, she only texted or phoned first to check what Neha was doing. And Neha had to admit that most of her replies to Aditi were variations of ‘Out just now’ or ‘At home with Sid. Come over’. There was usually no reply from Aditi after that.
‘True, yaar.’ Neha gave her friend a reassuring smile. ‘But we’re talking now, right?’
Aditi muttered, ‘I guess.’
More silence. Neha realized their conversation didn’t flow now as it used to before. Neha figured it was because of the long gaps between their get-togethers. It was also because Aditi still wanted to know more about Sid and her, while Neha was guarded about this. Sid had been clear that he didn’t want Aditi involved and Neha herself had always felt that talking about important things tended to dilute them. She just hoped Aditi would soon come to terms with this.
Aditi asked, ‘How’s your mom?’
‘Ah, good, she’s fine. We’ve been talking on the phone, not much though. I think she understands I’ve got stuff going on and she’s leaving me to it.’
‘Oh, that’s very understanding of her.’ Aditi raised her eyebrows. ‘How nice.’
‘Yes,’ said Neha, happy that they were having a normal conversation for once. ‘I’ve got some work travel coming up next month and she’s planning to come over and stay with Kippy. I think that’s the biggest advantage of family
–
Mom’s always there in a pinch.’
‘No one like a mom, right?’ Aditi said lightly.
‘No one,’ Neha concurred.
There was another long pause after which Aditi said in a thoughtful tone, ‘You think things change with our parents after
we
become parents, like somehow we start appreciating them more?’
‘Hmmm … I don’t know … just part of growing up, I guess? But maybe we do begin to understand them better. There’s no feeling like what you feel for your children, right?’
‘Right,’ said Aditi and they both unconsciously turned their gaze towards the kids. Neha was pleased to see that they were
tossing the ball to each other now, Kippy squealing in delight even though Ayaan was repeatedly throwing it too high for her to catch.
Aditi continued, ‘There’s something that just sets parents apart from non-parents. We know what it’s like to live for our kids, to put someone else first. I know I grew a lot as a person after having Ayaan.’
Neha frowned. ‘I know what you’re saying.’ She hesitated. ‘But that makes it sound like people who don’t have kids are selfish. And that’s not true. Everyone’s different, right?’
‘Oh yes,’ Aditi agreed quickly, and then added, ‘But you said it yourself, right? There’s no feeling like what you have for your own child. I just think that kind of …
expands
things … Your heart … your capacity to care, in a way.’
Neha hadn’t thought about it this way. She had just felt for a while that she really wanted a child of her own, and once Kippy came along, she had done whatever she thought and felt was right. Maybe Aditi had a point though. Neha said slowly, ‘Well, sure. It gives you perspective just like any life-changing experience would. No?’
‘Yep,’ Aditi agreed breezily. There was a pleasant lull again and they sat together quietly. But Neha’s mind was buzzing again.
One thing that she hadn’t actually been able to understand about Sid was his equation with his parents. From the way he described it, it seemed that they were always trying to reach out to him, especially his mother, but this seemed to irritate him. She had got the impression that he avoided them as much as possible. He didn’t talk much about them. It didn’t seem as if he felt they had mistreated him, yet, he seemed resentful of them. Neha, on the other hand, definitely had become closer
to her mother since Kippy was born. So, maybe having kids did help you appreciate what your parents had been through.
Neha was about to say this out loud but realized Aditi’s attention was elsewhere. She was smiling at the burly figure striding up to them from the other end of the park.
‘Krish is home early too! What a day,’ Aditi said.
Krish was accosted on the way by Ayaan who yelled ‘Daddy’ and leaped into his arms, abandoning Kippy for the moment. Krish carried his son over to the two women, saying, ‘Hello! Everyone’s here today, huh?’
‘The whole world is in the park today,’ said Aditi firmly as she stood up to give him a hug, unshy as always of public displays of affection.
‘Hi, Krish,’ said Neha, grinning up at him. She watched the three of them standing together and was surprised by the sudden pang that hit her.
In all these years of knowing Aditi and Krish she had never remotely felt jealous. Even when her own marriage was falling apart. She had been happy for Aditi being luckier than her. But now seeing the three of them standing there like that, made Neha feel something was missing in her life. She looked over at Kippy. She was standing a little distance away, watching them. She seemed a little forlorn now that her playmate’s attention was elsewhere.
Aditi followed Kippy’s gaze and said, ‘Ayaan, go on, play with Kippy, she’s waiting for you.’
Ayaan clambered down out of Krish’s arms and ran back to Kippy. She brightened up again and tossed the ball at him with all her might, hitting him in the face. Ayaan was more startled than hurt, but immediately started crying, prompting Krish to hurry over to the kids. ‘Come on, we’ll all play football, okay?’
Ayaan quieted down immediately, delighted that Daddy was in the game.
Neha watched as they all played together and remarked, ‘Krish is great with kids.’
‘Yes,’ Aditi said, ‘being a father does that to you.’
Neha frowned a little. ‘But I remember him being good with kids even before Ayaan was born. I remember your next-door neighbour’s baby in Bangalore. Krish was always happy to play with him and…’
Aditi laughed. ‘Oh he was just playing friendly neighbourhood uncle.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a whole different thing to actually be a parent, isn’t it? Being around the child all the time. That takes a lot of
commitment
.’ She turned to look at Neha with an expression of keen interest. ‘Right?’
Neha’s face was noncommittal. ‘I don’t know. I still think anyone can develop a connection with kids. Depends on how much they want to.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Aditi agreed, a bit too quickly. There was a pause, and when she spoke again her tone was light. ‘But then, there’s always a huge difference between someone who’s a dad and someone who’s just an uncle. No?’
This time Neha didn’t reply.
‘G
ot a busy day at work today?’
Sid looked up from his breakfast of cereal and toast, the surprise evident on his face. Mandira’s tone had actually bordered on civil. And she was expressing interest in his plans for the day?
He replied warily, ‘Regular, I guess.’
‘Good. That’s nice,’ Mandira said, flitting around the dining room, straightening various items that didn’t need straightening. Sid watched her with curiosity. She was usually out of the house by this time
–
it was already 8.30. He was hoping to finish his breakfast and get out quickly, but he got the distinct impression that she was trying to make conversation with him. He couldn’t possibly fathom why. They were still ‘doing the papers’ every other day in a business-like manner and he thought they had made good headway in the last week or so.
She was still lingering around when Sid finished breakfast. He stood up to take his plate into the kitchen. He then returned to the dining room and looked around for his laptop
bag. Mandira spoke again, more tentative than she had been with him in a while.
‘I was thinking … maybe we could have a couple of people over for dinner tonight…’
Sid froze and looked at her face closely. This was getting a little bizarre.
‘People? Who?’ He felt a twinge of hope. Were some of her cousins in town? Sid thought he wouldn’t mind the chance to catch up with them. Conversation with her side of the family had now died, and he had been feeling the void over the last few months
–
in spite of Neha, and his best efforts to ignore the feeling.
‘Well,’ Mandira said, not looking him in the eye, ‘I was thinking we could have Vikas and Sunny over for dinner.’ Sid was too shocked to react. This was
beyond
bizarre. She continued in a rush, ‘Sunny called, she was saying it’s been the longest time since we’ve all caught up … and I thought maybe we could … you know, just once, for old times’ sake…’
Mandira’s voice trailed off and she finally looked up at Sid, hope in her eyes. It was rare when he thought of her as vulnerable, but this was one of those moments. It made him want to soften his approach to her strange request. She had had an affair with his friend and now wanted them all to sit down and have dinner, pretending nothing was wrong! It would have been a laughable suggestion had it not been so grossly inappropriate.
‘That sounds like it would be … interesting.’ Sid chose his words carefully. ‘But I’ve got plans for the evening that I can’t cancel.’ Damn it. His only plan had been to sit on Brownie and guzzle some beer. Now he would have to go out. Why couldn’t he just have said no?
Mandira’s face fell and then her lips became a thin line. ‘I hope you’re not avoiding Vikas.’
Sid made an indignant sound that was somewhere between a snort and a cough. ‘Avoiding him? Of course not.’
Mandira continued as if he hadn’t spoken, ‘I told you earlier, don’t go blaming him for whatever you think happened.’
‘Oh no,’ he said with all seriousness, ‘I blame you.’
Mandira cringed only slightly before saying, ‘You shouldn’t let our problems get in the way of your relationships with other people, especially old friends.’
‘And you,’ he said in as even a tone as he could manage, ‘should probably stop giving me relationship advice now.’
She struggled to regain her composure and he watched her face closely. Suddenly, something clicked inside his head and he thought he understood what was going on. Vikas must have ended it with Mandira. Of course, he would never leave Sunny. They had a very pleasant marriage. Sunny was a sweet and trusting person and they had two kids together. Vikas would have backed out of the affair out of fear that Sunny might find out. After all, Sid had, hadn’t he? This would have left Mandira high and dry, and probably more bitter than ever about the whole ‘almost forty, childless and alone thing’. So that’s what it was. Mandira was sick with loneliness and trying to find some way of arranging an evening with the four of them together. Perhaps trying to relive old times. Perhaps to get a legitimate opportunity for hanging out with Vikas. Maybe even to try and get him back. He didn’t quite know her underlying motivation, but all the possibilities made him feel bad for her. And the most absurd thing was that he actually felt guilty.
He said softly, ‘Maybe another time … okay?’ Like in another lifetime. Scratch that, he thought, remembering Cynthia. Not in another lifetime, either.
Mandira’s face hardened and she shrugged her shoulders. In the next minute, she had picked up her bag and flounced out of the house, her long ponytail bouncing behind her angrily. The echo of the door slamming behind her rang in his ears and made him wince.
Yeah, so far, practically divorced felt pretty much the same as being married.
