I had never taken care of a whole freaking house before because that had always been mom’s job, sooo shit happened all the time. In the beginning I would call Rahul at odd times for little things like a gas change, plumber, burnt toast (like really!). I did not know how to freaking make a toast or boil water. It was proved that I did not know how to cook.
I did not realise (innocently) nor care that he could be busy or in a meeting, I would just call him on the silliest pretext like to order food or how to make tea. Once I called him to tell me how to use the toaster (I know DUMB, that is me).
He was always understanding and helped me but after a few weeks of being patient, calm, one evening he totally lost it.
“You need to get your act together sweetheart.You cannot keep calling me up all the time for silly things. I know and understand you have never done these things before, but you must start. That is my work place and I cannot always take personal calls. You need to work things out like the toaster all by yourself. And like seriously you don’t know how a 69
bloody toaster works.”
I had tears running down my cheeks because Rahul had never spoken to me like that, ever.
“Please don’t cry (hugging me), I know it’s tough and all new for you but it has been three months now. Please you need to start working things out yourself. You are an incredibly intelligent and educated woman, you can do whatever you set your mind too. Where is my stubborn strong headed Mira, why are you becoming so dependent.
I really cannot keep taking your calls at all times. There is a lot of work load and stress at office, I am also trying to adjust to a new place, people and job. We are in this together, so we should be supporting each other not fighting or me trying to explain all this to you.”
I knew he was sooo right, I decided to bring back the independent me who had become all soft and lazy. I realised then I had started relying on Rahul way too much. Well, it took me sometime but with counselling from mom, help from some very good friends that I had made in the society and my wonderful Mrs. Chawla (neighbour, but one crazy lady) I was back with a bang! Chawla aunty was a widow, 60 year old granny type, full of life and joy with no children. Now her life story is very sad but despite all the tragic events in her life she was the most alive person I had ever met. She had lost her husband and two children in the 1984 riots. It was she who took me under her wing, teaching me how to cook, where to shop from, how to set up the house (even with all the teachings I could never cook properly, yuck). Life was 70
sorting itself out, I could now handle just about anything. But despite all these achievements and new relations I still missed home, I missed Mumbai.
To make things easier mom and dad would send Aashi to stay with us during her vacations. Those were the best times, having Aashi was like having my best friend.
Aashi and I had formed an awesome bond, she had grown into a lovely young lady. At 17 she was more mature and calm than I ever was, she was planning to become a counsellor. She still had a crush on Rahul (which I teased her about mercilessly), but she was now more of a sister to him than me. He was her benchmark for the kind of man she wanted too. Well, having her around added the family feel to our home which we missed. We would stay up at night watching movies, going places, clubbing (even though Rahul hated it) or sometimes just sit at home drinking apple fizz from champagne glasses listening to music and talking, planning.
Those were the best days, we were like the three musketeers.