Page 43 of Made in Mumbai

Maya turned the key and pushed. The door was jammed more than usual today. She gave it another shove and it burst in.Hello, haven.

This rented house wasn’t much. But it was hers and hers alone. In fancy words, she could call it a studio apartment, but in Mumbaiya language it was a ‘one room-kitchen.’ Her kitchen was a single platform on one side of the hall, while the pull-out sofa-cum-bed was her own personal bedroom. The beauty of this house though, was the running granite seating by the main full-length window. She had cosied it up with a fluffy mattress, cute IKEA bedsheet and lots of pillows. It was a great place to nap.

Maya dropped her bag on the sofa and switched on the side lamp. Again, IKEA. Cute but cheap. She glanced around her little apartment, with all its cute embellishments that she had sourced from inexpensive places. Her old life would have been ashamed of it all.

She went to the kitchen platform and washed her hands, tightening the sink tap. It leaked and needed to be tightened by a man’s hand. Like really, a wrestler needed to come and close it for her every time she used it.

Maya grabbed a small wok and filled it with water. She pulled open a packet of Maggi noodles and waited for it to cook.Healthy, healthy, healthy.The mantra kept repeating in her head.Tomorrow onwards,she consoled herself.This was progress. Last night she hadn’t even being able to eat. Shock had kept her so paralysed that she had just laid on her window seat and stared at the dark sky.

She folded the delicious-smelling noodles into a bowl, grabbed a fork and sat down on the same window seat, her back perched on the sill. She made a mental note to arrange big pillows for her back. Legend had it that pregnant women were plagued by back pains. Maya twirled her fork in the piping noddles and closed her mouth around the heavenly goodness. Until the food hit her stomach, she didn’t realise how hungry she was. Had the growing baby blocked hunger signals going from her tummy to her brain?

She twirled more and ate more, momentarily taking her mind off the pregnancy. She looked blindly out at the pelting rain and then at the tiny seepage patches on her ceiling. It was on her to-do every day to call up her landlord and tell him about it, but every time she forgot. Now, she didn’t think it was a good idea to demand repairs when her pregnancy might get her evicted if she didn’t act nice.

“I can eat one more,” she eyed the empty bowl that she was on the verge of licking clean. But her currently full belly made her relax on the window seat as she shoddily lay the bowl on her belly. She wasn’t usually a slob. But today could be an exception.

Maya sighed, staring at the dark sky behind a barrage of rain pellets. Next year this time, she would have a tiny baby here on this window seat. And she would be showing him, or her, the wonders of this rain. They would want to go get wet. She would be a tough parent and say no. But eventually she would relent. It would be hypocritical if she didn’t. After all, she had gone down to play every time it had flooded when she was a kid.

Something in her perked up. She would teach her kid all of those fun things, but also all the tough things. Things that she had had to learn the hard way in life. More than that, she knew exactly what not to do as a parent, thanks to her parents. That was half the battle won, right? Didn’t they tell you in aptitude tests in school that the best decisions are those where you are sure what not to do? Like cancel out all the career options and suddenly you are sure of what remains?

Same, same would apply to being a parent. She would cancel being an absent parent, she would cancel teaching her kid entitlement, she would cancel missing birthdays and forgetting open houses. She would definitely cancel leaving her kid alone for two months to ‘study’ for 10th boards and flying off to a world tour. Maya knew exactly what she would cancel, and what was left was being attentive, supportive and loving. So loving.Shit, she smiled at the rainy night.

Her baby would be so loved by her. She loved anybody who came close to her, if they were half decent. Here it was her baby, and it would turn out awesome becausecome on— her DNA and her personality.Ooh. Ooh. Ooh.She would have the opportunity to make another Maya in the world.Ok, not as extreme as her.She knew she could be a handful. But somebody who went around the world without bitter baggage. Who would do one or two good things in their life. And live it happily.

Cherry on the cake? Her baby would love her back. Babies were dumb, they learned what you taught them. She would teach it to love her. And, her baby would be so cute. She had great features. Her nose was sharp, her eyes were almond-shaped and her lips were bow-shaped. A little thinner than she would have liked, but it is ok. What were lip glosses and plumpers for? Her baby would be damn cute, and damn pretty, or handsome, when they grew up.

So, plus-plus-plus.

Now, the practicalities. Maya turned on her side, tucking a pillow between her legs. A mental checklist was needed. She wasn’t one to plan, but she knew how to do it. A crib, cute jumpsuit-type of clothes in pinks, creams, yellows, blues…

“No, no, no,” she shook her head. “Practically, Maya. Practically. Start from the most immediate things to do.” Doctor’s appointment. Then, whatever changes she ordered in her lifestyle. Then, planning to make this house baby-proof, then purchase baby products. For her delivery… she would have to keep an Uber on standby to take her. She could contact one of her friends from college but they were all family people now. And her office friends…?

“Shit, I have to inform everyone at the office too.”

Ok, that was another problem to deal with. Not a problem as such, but she had to go around announcing to everybody and their mother that yes, she was pregnant and no, the father was not in the picture. Unless she convinced them that this was all pizzas and cakes that she had gobbled up in her post-divorce phase. But then when the baby came, what would she tell them? That the stork dropped it with happy tidings?

She snorted.

The clouds rumbled and lightning zipped across the sky. Maya grinned. Unlike other sissy people, she wasn’t scared of lightnings. On the contrary, she drew her energy from them. If wolves grew stronger looking at full moon, she grew stronger looking at lightning streaks. Her resolve hardened, and turned into a solid, rolling ball in her stomach. There was a solid ball in there anyway. She touched her palm to her belly. It was protruding but didn’t look like a bump yet.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “We’ve got this.”

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The next morning, she ticked her to-dos even before her ironing guy came to collect clothes. She called her gynaecologist and booked an appointment. She made an inventory of her savings. She planned for contingencies in case she would have to dip into the said savings for the few months of no work. She didn’t know much about maternity leave policies, hadn’t had reason to read into that fine print. Now though, if GK Textiles didn’t pay her money to deliver a baby and take care of it for at least the first… what, six, eight months, then she would have to make alternate arrangements. She looked into the FDs her grandfather had left her, and what were their maturing schedules.

All of this before breakfast, which today, she had planned to eat healthily. Dosa. The batter was in her fridge, leftover from the week before when she had made a batch of white dhokla. As she milled around the small platform, prepping the pan, she dialled the most dreadful number on her phone. This was her trick for stressy calls — always take them while you were busy doing something else. It took the edge off, it kept your mind sharp but not nervous, and also injected extra confidence into your voice.

“Maya?” Her mother answered.

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m good, darling. How are you?”

“Umm… yes, good too. Where is dad?”

“He is out in the fields with the farmer. Do you want me to call him?”

“Yes, if that’s possible…”

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