That One Deal

Winter showers have become a frequent thing in Delhi lately. It has been raining incessantly for the past few days. That, combined with the spine-chilling cold, added more to my sour mood. As I waited for the signal to turn green, wiper blades sweeping the windshield in full swing, I looked over at my adjoining seat. A bundle of documents lay scattered there. For months, I have worked on this, only to fail and lose all hope.

An investment banker turned author, with 3 best-selling books successively, and a duplex bungalow in a posh society in Gurgaon. Yet, that one fateful night achieved the goal of making me hollow, inside out. If only I had cancelled my book event and decided to join them in Singapore, this wouldn’t have happened. And I would have been with my wife and my loving five-year-old Mimi in the comfort of my home, instead of running to various adoption centres and session courts.

As I started my car again at the green signal, I noticed a girl, in her early twenties, drenched in rain. As I neared her, I noticed she was pregnant. I slowed down and lowered my window glass. “Hey, where are you off to? May I give you a lift?” I yelled, trying to make myself audible over the beating rain. Her eyes were narrower than the conventional eyes I am used to seeing around me, and her face was spotless, with a faint eyebrow line, again, fainter than the conventional eyebrows around me. Without another word, she opened the door and thrust her backpack into the backseat. I shifted the documents to make space for her. She took off her trench-coat, beneath which was simply a maroon tank top, and looked at me with puffed eyes, “heater?”. I turned on the heater while she made herself comfortable, all the while shaking her trench-coat and shoulder-length hair dry, completely oblivious to the fact that she was wetting my seat covers and foot carpets, and in this period of continuous showers, drying them would be an ordeal. Finally, getting no more words from her apart from the word ‘heater,’ which had been turned off quite some time ago, I asked, “so, where shall I drop you?”. She chose to ignore me and looked out of the window. “Miss, you need to say something. We can’t roam the streets of Delhi forever. Where do you live? “ “In a private hostel near IGNOU, but I can’t go there anymore,” she muttered. I figured that might be due to her present situation. “Then where have you been living?”. “In some nursing centre. But that’s shut down now. I can’t go there either. I was puzzled and demanded to know more. “I was raped!” she said, after a pause. Call it Indian society normalising abuses, but I was half expecting this response.”Did you lodge an FIR?” She shook her head. Upon further inquiring about her parents and friends, all I received was a simple shake of her head. “Okay! here is what we are going to do now.” I started, sounding annoyed at her vague responses. “We shall first lodge an FIR and then admit you to some welfare hostel. I have a few friends working there; they can help us out. “ “No no no!” she yelled, holding my right hand at the steering wheel. Shocked at the sudden reaction, I decided to stop the car. What had initially started as a light shower had turned into a heavy downpour. What was initially supposed to be a one hour job dragged into a four-hour one. I was already famished and now this girl was beating around the bush. I don’t usually lose my temper, but today I felt like I didn’t have much left in me. I pulled over to one side of the road, turned to her and spoke, counting my breaths, “Look, you need to help me help you. You need to tell me everything. “ She let out a long sigh and tucked her hair behind her ears. I gathered this as a sign of her preparedness and, although I was running out of patience, decided to give her time.

“Okay!” she finally said. “I got involved in commercial surrogacy, which is illegal in India. But these people were offering a lot of money. All I had to do was deliver them a girl child. I am a final-year student at the Indira Gandhi National Open University and have been in dire need of money right now. I badly need money to waive off some dues and meet my regular expenses. And this seemed to be the easiest way. “ She paused, and looked up. I might have looked bewildered because she leaned against the window and said, “you can ask your doubts”.

I couldn’t decide where to start. I started from the beginning. “What about the parents of this unborn child?”. “I have no idea,” she bit her lip, and continued, “I was approached by a particular group. They conduct commercial surrogacy for the sale and prostitution of girls. We have to have borne a child, arranged and maintained confidential by them, and then undergo a sex determination test. If it is a girl child, we are paid one-fourth of the amount in advance. And once we are past the abortion period, we are paid half. They keep us in makeshift wellness centres till then. In my case, the racket got busted right after I received half my amount. I somehow managed to pay off all my dues. But now I am helpless. I cannot abort, nor can I go back to the hostel. Yes, I think an NGO is best suited for me. “ She covered her face with her hands and started weeping, leaving me in a sea of emotions. Confused, annoyed, agitated, there wasn’t much left to say. The rain stopped and the sky was clearing up. I noticed a small momo stall a few yards ahead. Famished and also at a loss for words, I asked, “momos?”

We both took a plateful of momos each. We preferred to stand because the bench was wet. Carefully measuring my words, I decided to reveal my part. I was sceptical as it was too soon to vent to a stranger. Gosh! I didn’t even know her name. “Umm… miss?” I asked. She looked at me and said, “Joram” before engulfing an entire piece of momo in her mouth. Nevertheless, I continued. “Okay, Joram. This might come too early for you, but it is imperative we make a decision before we take the next step from here. I have been thinking about this since the time you told your story. To understand, first you need to know my story. I am Amit, roughly 40 years old. A full time writer by profession. In a plane crash, I lost my wife and the only happiness in my life, my five-year-old daughter, Mimi. It’s been three years since then. I have a big house in the suburbs of Gurgaon where I live with my mother-in-law, who makes it a home. Holding parties and attending events are part of my regular routine now. But nothing has been able to fill the void that Mimi left in my life. “ My eyes welled up as my thoughts drifted down the memory lane, to the chubby girl running between the hedges in the garden, with her mother running behind her with a bowl of porridge. A small sniff beside me brought me back to reality. “Anyway,” I said, taking off my specs and rubbing my eyes. “Since the past few months, I have been trying to bring another Mimi to our home. I have been trying to adopt a girl child, around the same age as Mimi. I talked about this to my mother-in-law, and we both were into this decision. I thought this would also help an underprivileged girl improve her life. But, as fate would have it, single males aren’t allowed to adopt girl children in India. Ever since then, I have been to numerous courts, filing law suits. I thought the presence of my mother-in-law would be a sliver of hope for us getting a Mini home. But she is nearing seventy, and hence, I lost my case. “

It was my turn to sigh, pause, and bite my lip now. I looked at her as I spoke again. “Do you have any plans for your child once it’s born?” The look of realisation dawned upon her, and although relieved, I silently cursed myself. What has my obstinacy in obtaining my Mimi gotten me into?It has led me into talking a mother giving up on her child. But what is done is done. If she agrees, we might plan it out. If not, we part ways. No one is forcing her to do anything. As it is, after hearing her story, I feel the line dividing the right from the wrong seems to be very blurry for people to notice. And words of ‘conscience’, ‘regret’, ‘salvation’ have merely been reduced to paper. I was weighing my thoughts when she interrupted. “And where shall I stay till then? I can’t go back to the hostel. “ “What if we provide you with accommodation until your delivery?”

And we both stood there, juggling our choices for a long time, till she spoke up. “Okay sir! If you think you can handle all the consequences, I don’t mind signing the deal with you. As it is, I would have parted ways with my child after delivery. At the very least, I know we’re parting ways for the better.Maybe that is God’s way of giving me a chance to correct my wrong deed. “

***

“This isn’t what we planned. Adoption has a proper procedure. You can’t just bring up a girl from nowhere and adopt her offspring, “argued my mother-in-law. “But isn’t this better, Ma? We are rescuing her child. She might have sent her to an adoption centre after giving birth anyway. We are making the world a better place for two people.” “But we won’t have any legal rights over the baby since her biological mother is alive. Plus, I don’t like the girl. She comes from the north-east. We have seen how people behave from there. “ I understand her orthodox line of thought. Based on ignorance and apprehensions, a lot of mainland-ers still look at the northeasterns with rolling eyes. “It’s late. We will figure everything out. You should go to sleep. “ I tucked her in bed, switched off the lights, and made my way back to my study.

In the seventeenth chapter of my novel, Savita was trapped on a boat in the midst of a vast ocean, fighting the hurling waves, while I was trapped in the ocean of my thoughts, legal jurisdiction, moral appeal, and whatnot, when I heard a tap on the door. Joram was standing on the doorstep. An oversized sweater and denim shorts, holding a can of chilled beer. “Not sleepy?” she asked, coming inside and making herself comfortable on the couch. “No, I am generally a night owl. What about you, though? Aren’t you sleepy? And aren’t you cold? “ She scoffed, “cold? in this thick sweater? and no… a bed change. “ She stretched her legs and closed her eyes, staring up. I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation either, so I decided to resume my efforts to achieve my goal of safely bringing Savita to the shore while remaining unsure of my own.

“What is it with the girl child obsession of yours?” Her question startled me. “Nothing,” I shrugged. “Mimi was my daughter. Her absence was becoming unbearable with each passing day. So I started looking for a replacement for her. Someone I could see my daughter’s face in”. Although I had always been crystal clear on my reasons, somehow I felt unsure about spelling them out. Maybe since it was the first time someone asked me that question. Ma and I understood each other. With mutual emotion, no one had to explain the other. And lawyers bother only with the legal and constitutional questions. “Isn’t it funny? You said your daughter was five years old. What difference does a boy or a girl make at that age? Isn’t it the same innocence, the same mischief? You are looking for a child to fill the void. Why make it gender specific?”

I took off my spectacles and pondered over her words. Adding more fuel to my unending chain of thoughts, she wasn’t helping. I walked over to her and patted her head. “You should go to sleep, baccha! If not you, your child requires sleep. And, stop wearing shorts in early January. You will catch a cold. “ As she shrugged and picked up her beer can. I snatched it away from her. “Also, no drinks from now on.” She made a face. “We never followed any of these in the camps.” “Well, your purpose then and now are very different. Now go off to sleep. It’s almost 2 AM. “ I returned to my desk, making up my mind to deliver Savita to the shore. But Joram’s words kept ringing in my ears for a long time.

***

“What am I? Some roadside hogger? And if you are feeding me, feed me something tasty. Not these fruits and cold curd. “ I came to the hall to hear Joram screaming at the top of her lungs at Ma. “I made some paranthas too. You can have them with the curd. But not unless you finish the bowl of fruits, “Ma said, emerging from the kitchen with a case full of steaming paranthas. And she went on talking about what a great nurse she had been to her daughter when Mimi was born. “The entire hospital was envious of her red cheeks and supple weight.”

No sooner did she say these, her eyes welled up with tears. She started reminiscing about the happy, as well as the sad memories. I have always tried to not raise those issues at home. But certain things are evident. Being a widow at an early age, her world revolved around her only daughter, my wife, Preeti. And now she has lost her too. I brought her to my house right after they died, but no matter how hard I try to be her son, I could never come down from the post of a son-in-law. Some losses are just irreparable.

Our thoughts were disrupted by Joram’s rapid tapping on the dining table. “Aunty, if you miss your daughter so much, why don’t you find a replacement for her as well. Just like you are finding one for Mimi.” I stared at her in horror. Ma’s mouth fell open. “Look what this ungrateful girl is talking about. Replace the child I gave birth to? Marry Amit off to another lady? Bring a new bahu into the house? And forget all the impressions of my daughter here. “ She suddenly paused and looked at me, realising my presence. “I mean, if you want to remarry, you can, of course. That is your decision; I am no one to speak over you. “ I shook my head. “I am happy the way I am Ma” I said and looked at Joram angrily, “Do you even think once, if not twice, before blurting out rubbish?” Anyway, Ma, please calm down. And you, get ready. We are bringing your remaining stuff and officially applying for your leave from the hostel for the next few months. “

As we waited for the warden to complete the formalities, I leaned over to Joram and whispered, “Why would you do something you did this morning? By showing your silliness, you have hurt a mother. A mother who lost a child at an early age. “ Joram was scorned. “ What’s wrong in it? If you are finding a replacement for your daughter, why not search one for her too.” Seeing me too stunned to speak, she continued. “Look sir! I believe no person can ever replace another person. Everyone has a unique identity. It is evident your need for another Mimi is simply a need to refill the house with the laughter, joy, and cheerfulness that were snatched away from you unexpectedly. Likewise, there must have been a void created by your wife too. Maybe the void of Mimi overrules the void of your wife. But that was what I was asking about. Tell me where exactly I’m wrong. “ I was silent for a while, then told her, “your way of asking was wrong”.

***

Days turned into weeks and my book was in it’s final stage of proofreading. This meant a lot of work. Spending long hours in the office, re-reading and re-writing scripts, and mailing them before the deadline are the only elements in my schedule now. Once, the late February sun shone mistily in the garden outside my garden, tempting me to take a break and come outside. At the other end of the garden, I saw Joram clicking pictures of Ma. And Ma wasn’t in her usual sari, but something entirely different. Something colourful, flashy and loud. Entirely different from her conventional lighter shades of saris.

I jogged over to them. “What are you wearing, Ma?” “It’s called Jymphong. It is a traditional attire from Joram’s land. “ Joram laughed. “Not Joram’s land aunty, it’s a khasi attire.” My tribe wears it on special occasions. After my mom’s death, my father told us to take whatever belongings from her we desired, and he would dispose off the rest. I, being at boarding school, then, couldn’t get to see her for the last time or perform her last rites. And by the time I came back, my sister had taken possession of most of her belongings, leaving this and a few other items out for me. “I was too distraught at the time to complain about my share.”Ma walked over to her and lifted her sullen face. “Too much emotion isn’t good for the baby,” she said, wiping tears from Joram’s face. Then, holding both our hands, she spoke, “C’mon now, it’s lunch time. And I made biryani as a Sunday lunch. But Joram, you need to finish the soup first.”

***

We were in the hospital for Joram’s delivery. Earlier in the morning, Ma, just like she did eight years ago, performed a small veneration at the house, ahead of coming to the hospital. Then she fed Joram a spoonful of kheer and we set out. But she made sure to fast till the baby was delivered, fit and healthy. The only difference this time was that we didn’t have the aura of excitement to know whether it would be a daughter or a son.

The doctor informed us that it would be a long day as the tests might take some time. Something related to her contractions The only thing that entered our heads was that it was normal and we didn’t have anything else to do apart from wait.

I turned to Ma. “You seemed to bond with her quite a lot lately. I am so glad. Earlier, I was worried as to how to keep you both together without a conflict for a few months. “ Ma smiled, “She needs to be decoded.” She has a very rough and arrogant exterior, but those are just impressions left on her by her past. Her father is a contractor, somewhere in the hills of Meghalaya, tongue-twisting names they have anyway. She was sent to boarding school at the early age of six, much against her mom’s requests. The only time she came home was during her mother’s funeral. She managed to somehow get a seat in IGNOU in English Honors. There is no contact between her and her family. Every month, her dad used to send her a fat check to sustain herself. But since the past few months, he has stopped sending them, and Joram is too uncomfortable to call up and ask. Unprepared for this, she started taking loans and was in debt soon enough. This forced her to take this drastic step.”

I nodded in awe. “Wow! You have indeed decoded her to a great extent. “ She chuckled. “What do you expect two bored ladies to do in a big house all day long.”

The operation took longer than expected. Finally, it was all over. I sent the baby with Ma and the driver earlier, then completed the formalities and reached home with Joram. A wooden cradle was set up in Ma’s room, with small toys dangling. Joram was overwhelmed by seeing the infant. She knelt near the cradle and put her right hand out. The tiny fingers of the baby grasped her index finger. Ma motioned for me to look at Joram. Her expression was blank. Her mouth was open, staring at the baby. “I never knew I could love something so deeply!” She said, rather whispered, slightly shaking her head, and kept staring at the baby for a long time, till it started crying.

“She is hungry,” Ma said. “I bought a bottle of clinically certified mother’s milk from a pediatrician, so there’s no need to be concerned. Why don’t you go to your room and rest.” Unwillingly, she got up. Then said, “Can I not feed her?” A smile broke across both of us. We had been fully prepared to relieve Joram of her motherly duties. At barely 22 years of age and a pregnancy with a complete disinterest in motherhood, we didn’t want to take any risks. But the change of emotions from her side warmed our hearts.

***

The next few weeks saw a gradual development of the otherwise gloomy atmosphere of the house. Thinking it’d be better for the mother to be close to her child, we permanently shifted Joram from her hostel to our home, from where she would be appearing for the final examination. Although Ma was initially hesitant, Joram insisted on shifting the cradle to her room as well. She managed to take care of the infant during the day and prepare for her exam during the night. The transition from an immature, reckless girl to a mature, responsible one was a sight to behold.

As the days moved on, and Joram’s exams were drawing to an end, Ma’s face was occupied with a cloud of apprehension. Stealing a private audience with her before bed one night, I inquired, “What is wrong? Why do you seem so preoccupied? “ “Joram will be going away for higher studies. There are a lot of facilities for single mothers to raise their children nowadays. What if Joram decides to take the baby with her? What about the pact you both made? Won’t it be wrong to refrain her from her own child? She is the mother, after all, and no paperwork can undo that. “ She looked at me with desolate eyes.

I didn’t have any answer to her doubts. True, Joram, like every mother, has grown attached to her baby in the past few months. We should have anticipated this. That this entire phase of a happy family vibe was momentary. Eventually, we have to arrive at a conclusion that is bound to hurt someone. But we need to clear our minds. What was started had to end.

Pursing my lips, I said, “Then we have no choice but to give it to her.” The baby is her right, no matter the means she used to produce it. Do we really want to go through the courts and legal procedures against that girl who has been living in our house for almost a year now and has, in a way, become a part of our life? “ “I would never do that.” Ma sighed. “It’d be easier to let go of the baby than to file a case against someone who has grown daughter-like towards me.”

We didn’t have to wait long enough for our dilemma to end. The next morning, Joram ran, rather flew, down the stairs. “My application has been accepted at Dehradun University!” Dehradun University was one of the colleges on her list of most desirable colleges. “Amit, I think we should really get there fast and settle things. Their admission process is opening next week, and once it’s open, we won’t be receiving any specific date. I want to go at the earliest and seal the best room, best faculty, best courses, and everything! “ She exclaimed, everything under one breath, as if talking about some shopping sale. Then, exhausted, sat down and started munching an apple.

“Joram, have you thought about the baby? What would you do with her? “ Ma hesitantly brought up the topic. Joram looked at me sheepishly. “I remember the deal, but I never thought I would get so attached to the baby. Ma” she held Ma’s hands. “Is it okay if I come visit her occasionally? I don’t want my child to grow up without recognising me in the future. If you don’t like it, I won’t let her know I am her mother, ever. “ Ma couldn’t control her tears, “such a stupid girl you are.” Why on earth would we ever do that? You shall be the child’s mother, always. You are my daughter and Amit’s sister. Indeed, we were looking for another Mimi, but that was to simply fill the void in our hearts. And with this child, we all know that purpose has been served. In fact, I have found a daughter as well. You are a part of our family. “

They both hugged each other and started crying. At times, being in the midst of two women in the house, their drama becomes too dramatic to watch. But I have never complained. There was an uncanny cuteness to it, and it sometimes gave me a better opportunity to closely observe human emotions, I admit. “Also, “ Joram started, sniffing her nose. “I have been doing quite a lot of thinking about the entire situation the past few nights. I have stayed with you all for almost a year now, and I have never felt more at home anywhere else, even in Shillong. Some things keep coming back to me, and so I decided I should take a trip down to Meghalaya, to my family. It’s been more than five years since I’ve been in contact with them. Maybe it’s time I should re-tie certain broken threads and mend some wounds. “