What is She Scared Of?

Week 2: Continued from last week…

My chain of thoughts is rudely broken by a pungent smell. I look around the kitchen. Is there any vegetable rotting or is it from the drain?

Shit. It’s the real shit.

My 1-year-old, Ayush, is trotting around the living room, his hands and feet covered with human faeces, which most likely are his own. The entire living room floor is printed, like a Dalmatian, with brown spots, dense enough to give me tremors. I frantically call his father, my supposed-to-be better-half, “Shouvik!? Shou-vik…”

I realize, the man of the house, has dozed off on the sofa with the TV remote in his hand, obviously unaware of the faeces facade.

Ayush greets me with his innocent smile.

“Mam-ma. Pot-tee.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes at him.

“Yes, son. Big pot-tee hap-pen.”

Mothers are supposed to take care of and protect their new-born. But after becoming a mother, I feel upset, almost all the time. Pregnancy has had an impact not only on my body but my mind too. I can’t really tell when I can be happy and when sad. Sometimes I feel it is full of shit only. Unlike the one I am cleaning now, I can’t see it. My mother told me, “It will gradually be better as Ayush grows, have some patience.” So here I am keeping patience.

The smell has finally had an impact on Shouvik, who is now awake and somehow very amused to see the living room. “What a beauty! Our son will be an artist, don’t you think?”

“I am not feeding him if he uses these things to be an artist.”

“What kind of mother are you?”

“What, you are blaming me? What kind of a father are you!”

My heart is heavy and I sit down to calm my nerve. “Have some patience.” My mother’s words hover in my head. I think to myself, how worse off I am in comparison to Lady Chaplin. At least she doesn’t have to clean baby-art at home.

Next day, I share this incident with her. Although I am cross, I can’t help a laughter riot, she nicknames this as “The Faeces Façade”. Really!

“Hi, Prerna! Hello. Helloooo.” Lady Chaplin waves both her arms in front of me vigorously, like the airline ground staff while navigating a landed aircraft to parking. Lost in my own thoughts, I take some time to notice her.

“Heyy, what’s up Prerna, lost in thoughts again? Already, missing your kiddo?”

“Oh no-no, please no kiddo here in office please!” I shudder at the thought of Ayush creating a replica of his art in my office and again walking away showing his cute face.

“Oh ok. Seem to be tired of baby-care all the time. I have heard, pregnancy is for only tough nuts.”

“Yeah, it is only for nuts.” I babble.

“What Prerna? Didn’t quite get what you said.”

“Oh, never mind! You were saying something?”

“Joining us for lunch?”

“Yes, sure, I am looking forward to some adult interaction. In fact, I am craving for it!”

What did I just say? Craving for adult interaction… in fact, I am okay with any interaction with no babies in it. I feel guilty.

The lunch ritual is a very repetitive but fun ritual. This small group comprises of Rajan, Urmila, Karthik, Sandy, Lady Chaplin and me, who have taken the self-oath of having lunch on time and away from the work desk. At a time at least 3 members are busy in work, with the other coaxing and cajoling these guys to get up and come for lunch. The ritual begins sharply at 12.50 PM so that 10 minutes of notice given to anyone who is busy or acting busy.

The married ones take out the tower of Borosil glass lunch boxes, and the singles are with the plastic Tupperware ones, but there is no discrimination in sharing the food.

“Mutton laya hu. Mai banaya.” (“Got mutton. I made.”) Rajan declares today in Hindi. I am unable to make out whether this is a self-praise or a warning declaration.

“Sorry Rajan, it’s my fast today. I can’t have.” Lady Chaplin is ready with her response.

“Arre, I am there to savour, please pass on to Sandy and me.” Karthik jumps with excitement.

Urmila prepares to open her plastic box, “Idlis from my PG?”

I jump with joy, “Pass on to me Urmila, I love idlis!”

Like an artist unsure on being nominated for the Oscars, Urmila is taken aback “Are you sure?”

“Yes, you take my entire lunch; I am having idlis only today!” I think more than the idlis, it was recalling the fun of staying in a bachelor’s accommodation that attracted me. Do I secretly want to run away from my own home? Weird thought, I brush it away and dig into the rocky idlis.

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To be continued…next Wednesday.