Page 38 of Made in Mumbai

“You didn’t know about it?”

“Know?” She pulled up straight, hysterical laughter on her mouth. “Is this the face of a girl who knows she was pregnant?”

“I mean…”

“I didn’tknow! And that too after the divorce… he didn’t want children, we fought because of that… he wouldn’t want it now too. What’s going to happen? How will I do it? My mother… who will help me? All my friends are busy with their kids! My maasi is there but she is in America. If I have to give birth and go to the hospital, I will have to keep an Uber on standby. And when it grows up I will have to put it in school and become a school-picking mom. If he plays football or something I’ll have to pretend to cheer and understand all the scores and stuff. How will I do it? If it raids all my sketch pens and spoils my designs…” she ran across the room and pulled open the minibar. She grabbed a can of beer and snapped it open, ready to bottom-up for some borrowed calm.

“Maya, no!” He called out. “The baby.”

Shit.She banged the can back on the table and turned to the window. The rain was blowing down hard, the trees swinging, the tall ones bending in half with the wind. She tried to borrow calm from there.

“I think you should sit down.”

“I am fine here. It feels better.”

“You fainted and vomited…”

“It was because of this. I think.”

“Do you want to postpone the flight?”

“No, we should go. I am good to travel.”

“Alright, I’ll pack and call you. We have to leave in half an hour if we are to catch that flight.

She nodded, didn’t turn. And he clicked the door shut.

The room was still, the two pregnancy tests still crushed in her hand. The rain continued to tussle with the world outside.

6. Salaam Namaste

Maya did not break streak. Come Monday, she grabbed her bag and stormed to the office. She hadn’t vomited this morning, which gave her relief. Maybe morning sickness wouldn’t trouble her in Mumbai, her own turf.

She enjoyed her walk from her house to the office, the weather dry for a change. The sun was out and the salty sea scent was thick in the air. She stopped to grab a coffee from the Starbucks just around the corner from her office, stood in the queue, then when her turn came, deflated.Could she have coffee?

Her friends had cut out caffeine completely through their pregnancies. She knew. She had waved her double shot cappuccinos in their faces. Maya shook her head with a “Let me decide and come back,” and hightailed it out of the store. That was the shitty beginning of her Monday morning.

“Hey!” Leo grinned at her as she dragged her sour mood into the office. “How was Coorg?”

“Like a PMSing female without her first shot of coffee,” came out of her mouth.

“That bad huh? I heard the samples were fantastic…” he followed her into the office, surprisingly peppy for a Monday morning.

“They were.”

“And I heard from a small birdie that if this Amber Raisingh contract extends to three years then there are fat bonuses for Diwali!”

“Are there?” She whirled, her mood flipping. “Is the news confirmed?”

“I heard Trisha talk about it with somebody on the phone when she entered. Maybe GK himself?”

“How fat?”

She wasn’t crunched for daily expenses. She had her savings and a good dose of her inheritance from her grandparents. But that was a cushion for her. Singular. Now, she would need all the money in the world if she was to bring up a baby in the lifestyle she was used to. If her baby needed something and she wouldn’t be able to give it… a surge of sorrow shot through her. What if her baby asked for a double cheese schezwan frankie and thatwasthe most expensive frankie on the menu, and she wouldn’t be able to afford it? Ok, she could afford it. It was street snacks. But this was just an example. In short, she needed that bonus, and many more to come. If His Highness was distributing bonus cheques every month, that would be ideal.

“I don’t know how fat. But please, Maya, please, be nice and make Amber very happy.”

“Meaning, meaning!”

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