PART 2

PART 1 

After exam I went to Mumbai at my uncle’s place. He is my father’s elder brother. My uncle- Amar Kaka a pediatrician and his wife – Maya Kaki is a radiologist. I also have two cousin brothers- Sahil and Sagar. Both were elder to me and as children we didn’t have anything in common. My grandmother stayed with my uncle. Maya Kaki was a working woman and grandma preferred Mumbai. Frankly, I never liked Mumbai during my childhood, nothing against the city. My childhood memories of my uncles’s place at Malad blazingly feature my grandma trying to teach me how to make round chapatti and perfect tea. No wonder I returned within a fortnight.

Mum and Chachi had become very close friends during this time. Like any good Indian neighbors, they had started exchanging special recipes. The summer is always busy for my mum as she has to prepare her stock of mango pickles, papads and other yummy items for an entire year.

Mum had made her special veg pulao and I was once again sent to my neighbors to give it to them. I could not believe my eyes when I entered this home. Last time, when I came here everything was in a mess. Now, this home could have been featured in any interior designer magazine. The overall effect of the home was so warm and natural. It was not very opulent or grandiose. Chachi has done some great work with the foyer and living room. The paintings were so simple yet, giving a completely metro look to this room. I loved this new home very much. Chachi showed me the entire bunglow. She was so happy here.

Downstairs was the bedroom for Chachi, Arif and a guest bedroom. Upstairs was the store room and a book room for Aftab. No, Aftab does not need a bedroom. Bed can be optional in his room, books are must. He used to read voraciously. If he got bored of books, then he would come to Arif’s room to play computer games. Seldom he would come to the terrace and roam around. I wondered how a school boy like Aftab could collect so many books. It was Arif who told me that those books belonged to their father. Arif’s father was a professor of English Literature in a college. In their Pune home, they had  huge shelves full of books. When he passed away, his brother wanted to throw all these books. Aftab collected all the books and kept them in his room. Since then, these books are always in his room- no matter where he is staying. This is his father’s legacy for him.

Chachi was very fond of me. She used to send me every special dish. Once she asked my mum whether it is permissible to give me non-veg food. Mum told her she did not have any problem. I was not a very keen non-veg lover but I liked Chachi’s Chicken Kurma and Fish Curry. My mum was a vegetarian, but she never forbade me from eating non-veg. My father never knew about it, as he was never around at home. We will come to that!!

On a very hot May afternoon, Chachi came to our home. Arif and Aftab were at their Mama’s place.  I was watching a movie on TV. Chachi and my Mum were chitchatting and gossiping. Their topics of discussions were changing faster than the outfits of the film heroine. Both of them thought that I was consumed in the Salman Khan film, I am unable to listen to their interesting conversation. I had seen this film already five times. I was obviously listening to the gossip. My mum was telling Chachi about how my grandma always taunted her because having a single child- a daughter. Chachi said, “I always wanted a daughter. Daughters can be pampered. You get so many types of dresses, shoes, accessories. Boys can wear a Tshirt and Jeans and that’s ok for them. For girls, you have so many options.”

“You can always pamper your daughter-in-laws.” My mum teased Chachi.

“Ha! Three daughter-in-laws! I hope three of them will not start torturing me! Daughter-in-laws are always an outsider. Daughter is always yours”

“Yes, after all blood is thicker than water.”

“Actually, I don’t believe in it. I have seen blood relations turning against each other. Families are disintegrating and turning hostile to each other. When my husband passed away, within a week his brothers started pestering us to leave the house and shift somewhere else. How would I survive with two boys and only one earning member? My husband’s brothers never even thought about Azar. He has been staying alone and sending money for his father’s treatment. Anyhow, what I was saying..Oh Yes, Daughters. Whenever I go to the market see those cute little frocks, hair bands.. I fervently wished for a daughter. When I was pregnant with Aftab, I always prayed for a daughter. “

My mum was quiet. Then she confessed, “I wanted a son. Especially, when my sister in law had two sons, but then Swapnil was born. She was the most difficult thing in my life. What a pregnancy it was!  I was on the strict bed rest for more than four months. Then elective C-Section,  the premature baby. she was so weak! I still remember holding her for the first time, she was like a doll. The doctors had already told us that I should not conceive in the future. It will be too risky. So I knew that she will be a single child. Yatin never had any problem with this. He only wanted a healthy baby. I was a bit disappointed, but I was so wrong. When I hold her for the first time, her tiny eyes looking at me, searching for the love in my eyes, I just melted. I could not care whether this is a boy or a girl. She was my precious little baby. She will always be part of my flesh and blood. Then I never thought about having a son. Just this one girl and she was enough!”

In reality, the tear glands in my eyes are defective. I hardly ever cry. Aftab says I have stone heart. That might be true, but I still remember this conversation between my mum and Chachi, and my moist eyes while pretending to watch TV.

>> 

It was month of May. I had gone to meet my friend Veda. As my scooty was gone for regular servicing, I was walking home. There was somebody sitting in the park Dusk was falling and it was nearly dark. Mostly the park was used by the kids to play and then by some lovers as it gave an excellent privacy. However, today there was no couple; somebody was sitting there alone in the dark.

“Swapnil, is that you?” This was Arif.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. He held up his left hand, a cigarette.

“You are smoking? Seriously, I will definitely tell about this to your mother.” 

“I don’t have a mother” he said very sadly.

“Don’t say like that! A pathetic joke”

“This is not a joke. She is Aftab’s mother.” Then I realized, he was not joking. He was pretty serious.   

“What?” I sat next to him. He blew a puff of smoke.

“My mother died when I was six or seven days. Obviously, I don’t remember. Azharbhai was five years old. This lady is the second wife of my father.” Whoa! This is information overload. I had absolutely no idea that Chachi was the stepmother, but then I knew this family since last two months only. “Last year I lost my father. So my current situation-No mother and no father..”

”Did Chachi say something to you?” After reading so many fairy tales and animated films I knew that generally stepmothers are evil. Chachi was such a gentle person; I could never imagine her as a bad stepmother.

“That’s the problem! She never says anything to me. Even if you go now and tell on her about my smoking, I can bet that she will not be mad at me. She will try to speak with me, make me understand or reason with me, she will cry, ask herself why I am behaving like this. In the end, she will keep loving me. She will blame herself. Probably lecture me about not to smoke, but speaking very carefully. She will try not to hurt me, not to make me feel that I am her stepson. If Aftab would have done anything like this” he looked at his cigarette “She would have beaten the shit out of him.”

“So you are smoking.. Because you know Chachi will not scold you. ”

“I am smoking because I want to smoke. I know that Ma will never scold me. I am not Aftab”

“I have been in your house so many times but I have never felt that she treats you differently from Aftab.”

“No, you are wrong. She treats me differently. You know, yesterday Aftab did not clean up his room, he never does it. Ma shouted at him, told him to clean it otherwise he won’t be getting his dinner. My room was messier but she didn’t say anything to me. Came into my room, cleaned it up and told me to come for dinner. She will not shout or slap me. She will talk to me as if I am her only son. That’s what irritates me most”

“Chachi really loves you!” I said to him. Still, I could understand what was bothering him.

“I know that she loves me. I was three months old, when she became my mother. When I was a kid, I never knew that she was my stepmother. She argues with Azar, scolds Aftab, but not me. Sometimes, I wish… I want her to behave with me like my mother,  the way she treats Aftab. Not by taking care of me, but by being stern with me.”

I didn’t know what to say. For me, this was completely unexpected. What could I say to make him feel better? I have never been a great talker and situations like this were completely new to me.

“I feel very lonely”. He added after another smoke. This part was at least very true. They have relocated just after finishing his HSC exam. He was complete stranger in the city and had no made friends with anybody”

“Why? I know Aftab is completely useless as a friend.” He smirked. “But, you have me as your friend. Also, wait till the college starts, you will make many friends.”

“I think, I was better in Pune”

“Then go back to Pune for further studies, you can stay in a hostel.” Actually, Pune is known for its educational institutes. “Just wait for the HSC results”

“I don’t have to wait for the results. I know I am going to fail” His voice was very slow, whisper-like.

“Don’t say like that.”

“Swapnil, my father expired  before my exam. Fifteen days to be precise. Even before that, he was hospitalized, and it was pretty stressful.  The entire home was so tensed. Ma was emotionally wrecked. I could not concentrate on my studies. I know I am going to fail”

“So what? You can appear in October, and get good marks”

“Dekhenge! Go home, your mum might be waiting”

“What about you?”

“I will come after some time” I saw an entire pack of cigarettes in his other hand.

“Are you going to smoke all these cigarettes?”

“Oh God! No! What do you think I am? A chimney? I will sit here for another five minutes.”

I started towards the exit of the park. Suddenly Arif called my name. I turned back.

“Swapnil, right now here you told me that you are my friend. Right?” his serious voice was gone, and now the ever mischievous Arif was talking to me. 

“Of course!”

“Then friends never sell secrets of each other. Right?”

“Of Course. I will not say anything to Chachi.”

“And to your mother as well!”

“Definitely.”

“Promise?”

“Pakka Promise”

And, I have been true to this promise till today. I haven’t told about Arif and his smoking to anybody. Not even Aftab. Not that it mattered; Arif decided to break all the promises and left us rather abruptly.

Yet, this particular spot in the park became our favourite. We both used to sit there and discuss about many things. Aftab rarely joined us. He used to get pretty annoyed with our silly jokes and laughter. His bookish discussions were boring for us. Arif and Aftab were always teasing each other.

The results were declared within a month and Arif had failed in two subjects. Everybody was expecting something like this, and Chachi did not say anything to him. She made his favourite dessert- Kheer even before the results came and told him study hard for the next year. Aftab told me that Arif was one of the brightest students of the batch and would have got decent marks. However, the circumstances were not in his favour. On the day of the result, he locked himself in his room. Chachi was worried, Aftab kept calling his name, but he didn’t open the door.

I went to their home and called Arif. He opened the door when I threatened to call my dad. Dad would have definitely broken the door.

“What?” he snarled. “I was only trying to be alone for few hours. I have failed a major exam.”

“So? Have you seen Chachi? She is worried sick because of your tantrums?”

“I was not going to commit a suicide!”

“Thanks for the update. Now let’s have some lunch.” I replied. 

We all went to the beach that evening. My mum had a tiny heart attack when I asked for a plate of Panipuri. Aftab and Arif were roaring with laughter when I told them I never had a Panipuri. My mum used to make this tasty street food at home. I was never allowed to eat outside food. Especially the unhealthy junk food. It was very tasty but very spicy. I could not even eat a single plate of Panipuri. Aftab finished it for me.

“Arif, you will get first class next year. I am very sure” I told him while returning home.

He didn’t reply for a beat. Then he said “I will not be appearing for any exam in this lifetime”

>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

My ninth standard classes started regularly. I was going to school on my scooty. Now , this was strictly illegal as I was underage for a driving license. But who cares? My father owned half of the town and no cop or any other officer has the guts to stop me and ask for a license. My mum was not very happy with this travel arrangements but dad was ok with it.

“Let her get some traffic sense, and next year she can learn to drive a car” he told mum. She was not satisfied by this solution. She wanted a driver for our car. Aftab used to go to school by walking. He decided not to take school van facility. My mum suggested, “Why don’t let him drive the bike and both of you can go to school together?”

Me and Aftab. On a bike. To school. Sometimes, I wonder whether mum had completely forgotten about her teenage years. What a nightmare it would be for me! Not that Aftab was interested in coming to school with me. The guy was arrogant in the school. Even if see each other around school building, he would never give out a polite smile feigning that we are complete strangers.

Arif went to Pune to get his leaving certificate and other documents. He got an admission for HSC in our town. He was not very happy here, he was always distracted. Every other weekend he used to go back to Pune to meet his friends. Chachi never liked that he was staying at his friends’ place. He was also not very much interested in his studies.

Aftab was doing splendindly in his new school. After a month of the school, the toppers were selected for a special batch. Somehow, the school authorities decided that this will be a Co-ed batch. Aftab had excellent grades from his previous school, and he was a scholar studious kid. No wonder he was selected in this topper batch. From our girls’ school Veda and Prerana were selected. No chance for me. I had never scored out of marks in any subject. Yet, Aftab started giving me the notes from this special batch to me. The teachers were rushing fast for this batch (No P.E. classes, no any other extracurricular activities etc). They had a weekly test for every subject. Aftab gladly shared the test papers (along with the answers!!) with me.

Chachi and my mum might be friends in real life, but they had also become rivals in the kitchen. Both used to watch Sanjeev Kapoors Khana Khazana with complete attention and recreate those amazing recipes in their kitchen. Personally, I had no problem with this. Apart from some impromptu enforced trips to the neighbourhood grocery stores. Whatever was prepared by both of them, was immediately shared between me, Arif and Aftab. Arif had a strong sweet tooth. Desserts were his favourite. Aftab always liked his food spicy. I was a not a very picky eater. I still am not. Loved anything and everything made by mum or Chachi. Arif has kept some bricks on the either side of our shared compound wall, making it easier for us to move between two homes.

Chachi had a green thumb. She revived the garden with her magical touch. Chachi has planted many flowers plants, herbs and kitchen vegetables in this garden. My bedroom window opened in front of the flower patch. The roses bloomed in the monsoon, and the smell carried in the breeze till my room. These were not typical hybrid roses. Chachi explained me that the particular breed was very rare and had incredible fragrance. The duty of watering the entire garden was given to Aftab. He had planted a hibiscus and Zinnia. I never liked these flowers, they might have bright colours, but there was no fragrance.

>>>>>> 

One day I was playing games on my computer when my mum called me. Arif had invited me to his home for some urgent work. It was a rainy Sunday morning.  When I reached in their kitchen, it seemed like these two guys were plotting a plan for world domination. There were several noted on the dining table along with some books. Also, some color pens, pencils, erasers and sharpeners. You know your regular cooking stationary items. Both brothers were discussing something seriously.  They did not even realise that I had entered in the kitchen.

“Hey, what happened?” I enquired.

“Swapnil, thanks for coming. Chalo, Let’s start working” Mr. Geek declared. Without even uttering a word about whatever we were “working”

Luckily, Arif saw confusion my face and elaborated me on their plan. Today was Chachi’s birthday. She had gone to some relatives place and will be returning before lunch time. Her sons wanted to make a surprise lunch for her- Biryani, raita and a cake. The ambitious plan was already made and the preparation was in full swing. But why exactly they needed my help?

“We both know you can’t cook even to save your own life. So, we will not ask you to help us” Aftab proclaimed. “Just sit here on the chair and keep reading the recipe, so that we will not forget any step. Whenever a step is done, tick mark it. Do you think you can manage that?”

“I can try” I mocked back.

“Good! So, let’s start working.”

 Arif had already marinated the chicken pieces in the spices. Apparently, Chachi loved mutton biryani, so Arif wanted to prepare it. Aftab decided against it, by saying preparing Chicken Biryani will be simple.

“That’s good. I don’t eat mutton”  I told.

Arif was working at the kitchen counter and suddenly looked back at me. “What?”

“I have never tested mutton. But I love Chicken.” I replied. Arif looked at me and then chuckled.

The plan was to make chocolate cake, but again Aftab changed the menu. “Plain Vanilla cake! Swapnil won’t eat chocolate cake” he fussed.

“We are celebrating Ammi’s birthday, not Swapnil’s” Arif hit back.

“Come on! She would not mind what kind of cake we are baking.” Aftab replied seriously. Arif smirked at me.

I read the next instruction. “250 grams of plain flour.”

Now this was a challenge. There was at least 2 kg of Maida but how to separate exact 250 gms from it? We were making a cake for the first time, so getting exact amount was very important. After five minutes of debate and some ridiculous suggestions of how to measure 250 gms, Aftab decided to visit the grocery store and get 250 gms of flour, sugar and butter. 

The rain was still pouring when Aftab returned on my scooty. He was drying his silky jet black hair by a towel when I suddenly remembered that my mum had a kitchen scale. He was so irritated with me. The next challenge was how to decide which rice was Basmati rice or biryani rice. I tried meekly by advising that long grain rice is Basmati. Aftab fumingly ignored my suggestion and called mum. She was more than happy to help or rather send us all out of kitchen. She solved many problems. Eg,. What do you mean by ribbon consistency for the cake batter? Aftab was thinking of spreading the batter on the dining table to see whether it spreads like a ribbon. Mum laughed at the idea. 

I made biryani recently for my colleagues  in the university. I had help of Jadoo (on the phone), youtube videos and recipes and tips from the various websites. When that biryani was put on the dum, the spicy aroma wafted through the kitchen, I sobbed involuntarily. In my brain, cooking biryani smell has always been associated with this day. I try not to remember Arif, but biryani always invokes his memory. His genuine sweet smile, wiping beads of sweat by back of his hand, tasting the cake batter and then joking that it requires some chocolate as well, interfering between Aftab and me , enjoying our cat-fights and taking a role of peace-maker to himself. My first friend.

“Swapnil, next time we will make Biryani in the garden. Azarbhai will be coming next month. He is the best cook in our family. His special biryani is very famous.” Arif told me.

“Really? A better cook than Aftab! That is a great thing to achieve.” I taunted. Unfortunately our hero was too busy in dicing the onions to reply me. What I did not know at that time, was Azar never cooked any meat. He made veg biryani. Always.

Once the cake was safely in the heated oven and Biryani was on dum, we were almost finished. The entire kitchen was mess, so we tried to tidy it up. Apparently, it looked messier. Also, we were really exhausted by our efforts. Mum got some hot parathas and curd. We were waiting for Chachi to return, as it was still raining heavily, she might be waiting for the rains to stop.

We were playing card games when Chachi returned at around two. Even before entering the home, she was suspicious of our smiles. “What have you done?” She asked.

We started singing Happy Birthday To you in chorus. Chachi was almost in tears by looking at our lavish spread of three dished. The cake was baked to the perfection and Biryani was delicious. Mum also got some sweets and the birthday was just perfect.

After many many years, I told Aftab that if I get a time-turner in my life, I will return to this day. This was a fantastic day. The rains, the blooming gardens, three friends cooking a surprise lunch, the taunts, the verbal spats.. Everything was just perfect. The moment when Chachi patted Arif’s shoulder and told him that he is the best son, I saw how his eyes were moist. Aftab looked at me when I told him that cake is really good and he answered, “That’s my reward!” and smiled.

 But then, there is no thing called as “forever”.

(To be Continued)