Tanya Tania (16 page)

I wonder if he feels that way. He has been really busy.

But that night, you know, afterwards, we came home and he called me and we talked forever in the dark, in whispers. And he kept telling me that he loved me and that he wanted to be with me forever. I think that's now my favourite memory. Lying there in my bed, things hurting down there and Arjun's voice on the phone, sounding like a little boy.

Before this, my favourite memory was of being six years old and jumping up and down on my bed right before my birthday party. I remember going up and up, being able to see the tops of buildings, my dress going up and down against my body, silk and air, silk and air.

Things were a lot simpler then, no? Birthday parties were about cake and presents. Boys were just people in shorts.

I guess the night with Arjun also felt like seeing the tops of buildings. Jumping higher, running faster than I ever have before. Silk and air. Except there was no silk, only cheap lace I bought from the street and it scratched everywhere.

Please write back man. I'm going crazy.

Love,

Tania

June 16, 1992

Karachi

Dear Tania,

I'm sorry I haven't written. I know you were waiting for me to respond.

I haven't written because I don't know what you want me to say. That I'm glad he was nice to you? That I was surprised he was nice to you? That I'm glad you used a condom? That I'm worried about what will happen now? Are you still not officially together in school?

I'm glad you haven't told Nusrat.

This morning I woke up early to go to the beach. I wanted to think through what I would write to you. Sometimes that can be really delicious you know. Thinking about what to say, what not to say. What to ask. What to hint at. What to leave out entirely.

When I went outside, I saw what I thought was a tablecloth that had fallen off the clothesline. It was my mother again. She was asleep this time. Bibi helped me bring her in, her lips pursed. She wouldn't look at me.

It happens almost every night now, Tania.

I hadn't meant to tell you this. I had meant to write only about you and what happened with Arjun. But look what happens when I pick up a pen to write you. Look what comes out.

The beach was quiet and empty because it was so early in the morning. You can see the fishermen's boats in the waves and if you looked really hard you could see their nets glimmering in the sun. Salman bhai, our driver, was nervous about me walking down the beach alone. He locked the car and walked behind me.

You want to know something funny? My memory of being six is Salman Bhai. We had just come to Pakistan from America and everything was new and difficult. I made Salman Bhai my best friend. I would talk to him for hours in the car, making up stories of tiny people in the vents of the car air conditioner. I would tell him about their lives, their families, their offices, their schools, their playgrounds, their meals, their beds, their chairs, their bathrooms. He always listened very seriously and asked me very good questions. He remembered their names and when one of them was bad and I would hit them, he would look at me reproachfully and say, Baba, why are you hitting such small people.

Now that I look back, I wonder if that had been my parents' plan, to just throw two six-year-olds into a completely new world in the hopes that we would swim. Well, they were half right.

But I hated everything. The sky which was yellow and not blue, the food which made my eyes water, the new people, the new school with the new language, everyone wearing different clothes and gates with barbed wire and the way all the girls looked at me, the new girl with doll hair and doll eyes. A new world where Navi left me.

I remember going to a birthday party where we were sent to play in the garden and the other girls decided that I was to be a traitor and hung from a tree. They found the hose from the garden shed and I started crying and Salman Bhai heard me and he came and picked me up. I remember being high up in his arms, the girls looking up at me with curiosity and disappointment. I wanted to stay in Salman Bhai's arms forever.

What is it about love? I went to the beach this weekend to feel closer to you, Tania, who I have never seen, living in Bombay on the other side of the sea, thinking of me only because I live here, far way and can't touch your perfect bubble life. That is why you haven't told Nusrat, right? Because she has the power to touch your bubble and change it. You only told me because I am far away, didn't you? Across the sea.

What is it about love? Behind me walked Salman Bhai. He walked several paces behind because that was his calculation to keep me safe while not upsetting me because I'm still Baji, I'm still the daughter of his employers. Salman Bhai knows where my friends live and who their parents are. Salman Bhai puts on loud music when Ali is in the car with me. Salman Bhai drives me home the long way in the monsoon so I can sit in the car by the sea and watch the rain fall. Maybe he likes it too.

You say that Arjun loves you. What do you mean by this love? Does he want desperately to be first in your life? Will he calculate to keep you safe? Would he count the days waiting for your letter?

What I decided to say to you this weekend on the beach is the distillation of what I have learnt: love is a suspicious thing. For every time it is blissful and sweet, there are seven times when it is absent. You won't listen to anything I say but be careful, Tania. Be careful.

Love,

Tanya

June 26, 1992

Bombay

Dear Tanya,

I need to talk to you. I'm writing this in school so Nusrat won't know. I'm going to post it on my way home so that you get it soon and can reply soon. I'm not allowed to call you anymore. Things are bad at home and somehow your mother keeps coming up but I'll go into that later.

The thing is Arjun is being a little weird. I mean not a lot, I'm probably overreacting. Just a little bit. For example, he hasn't called me since that night. I mean I've called him and he's taken my calls so it's not like we haven't talked at all.

I'm overreacting right?

And then last night we had just talked for seven and a half minutes and he said he had to go. He said he was going to go to Ashu's house to play video games.

But then today Ashu wasn't in school. He's not even in town.

The thing is Arjun lies all the time. Then he tells me about it and we laugh at how stupid people are for believing him. But he's never lied to me before.

I keep going over every single detail. He carried me to the lift and kissed me all the down to the lobby. We talked on the phone that night in whispers and it was all beautiful and perfect and he told me he was going to rent every hotel room for me so we could do it in a different room every night. Then he said he was going to pick me up for school the next morning which he has always refused to do before.

But the next morning he sent his driver. As if I don't have drivers.

It's nothing I can put my finger on. It's not like he's avoiding me or anything. We went to watch a movie. But he didn't try anything. And usually that's the only reason he wants to go to movies.

I'm imagining things right? That's why I am telling you all this. You're sensible and clever. You'll tell me that I'm totally overreacting and of course everything is fine. I mean we went to see a movie.

Please tell me that Tania. I have this sick feeling at the bottom of my stomach and it won't go away. I don't feel like going anywhere in case he calls. I have to pretend I'm okay and it's exhausting. I'm overreacting right? Nothing is the matter. He loves me.

Love,

Tania

July 2, 1992

Karachi

Dear Tania,

What do you mean my mother keeps coming up?

You're not overreacting. He's trying to break up with you. Did you get my last letter?

Love,

Tanya

July 9, 1992

Bombay

Dear Tanya,

I did get your last letter. I'm ignoring it because it was a bit weird.

But I like to go down to the sea too. This morning I took your letter and went down to the sea. The tide was in and the waves were monsters. I missed Nusrat. I miss Nusrat all the time. Is that weird?

Nusrat makes me feel like I used to feel when I was a kid and had a tent in my room and I used to go and hide there. Get into the tent and zip it up. And everything was okay.

It's become pretty tough to live with my parents these days except I can't tell if it's new or if I'm just like noticing it more. Do you ever feel like that?

I mean my parents have always argued and disagreed about most things. They'll sit down to have tea in the morning and my dad will pick up the newspaper and say something good about the BJP and everyone knows it's only to piss her off because he looks fake grave and sometimes even winks at me. But my mom will jump right in, before even her first sip of tea, breaking a biscuit into it and then forgetting all about it because it is just so important to make her point, to be right. Because, you know, she is always right. The biscuit never has a chance.

And then at some point it stops being funny and they're just mad at each other. And I'm always wondering how an argument about an election became ‘you haven't forgiven me and ‘no, I will never forgive you'.

Yes, I did tell my mom about your mom. First of all, your mom is my mom's best friend. I think she's like her only real friend. I mean my mom has tons of friends but they're like matlabi friends. You do something for me I do something for you. And secondly, I'm like worried about your mom man. Not coming out of her room. That creeping around in the garden at night singing lullabies to flowers. Dude.

So basically I told my mom that your mom is in bad shape. I told her she's depressed. And for some reason that word really got my mom and she kept saying, depressed, depressed? Did Tanya say Lisa is depressed? How did she say it? In a serious way?

I was like no, she didn't use that word. And then my mom got mad at me and told me that I should know the meanings of words before using them.