A Suitable Girl

 

 

After he had finished Business studies in Sydney, Samir had despised his father Hari Acharya, for dragging him back to Nepal, by sending him a ticket instead of money. The prime reason behind the hasty action, he knew was his marriage.

“Get married to a cultured Nepali girl, then you can go back and do whatever you please!” Was his mother, Parvati Acharya’s only reply to his various protests, while his father had turned a deaf ear to them.  All of that however, was a year back.

These days, his parents pester him to go back to Sydney, but he keeps nodding it aside. He had already been shown fourteen different eligible girls, but had rejected them all. They were all very pretty, of good cultural background and most importantly of the suitable caste.  Two of these girls were even modern, which was the limit his parents were willing to cross, to ensure he does not marry outside the caste. They’d thought the girls perfect for him since they were also studying in Sydney, but Samir had not shown any interest in them either.

“Don’t worry Mua, it will happen if it’s meant to be…” He’d say and stroll off.

Samir was smitten by Radhika, his mother’s pedicurist, or ‘Naini’ as they call them in Nepal.  Seeming in her late thirties Radhika was not the most gorgeous girl he had seen. But there was something about her that struck him, just like a lightening would strike an unsuspecting pedestrian.  At first he thought it was just a temporary infatuation, but then she had started to visit him in his dreams. In the morning his eyes would have turned red.  

It had been just few days since he landed from Sydney when he first saw her. It was still early when the gate opened with a loud clanking noise, followed by the incessant barking of the neighbor’s dog.  He had thrown his pillow irritably, and charged to the window, to yell at whoever it was, and there she was!  She walked into his life in a bright blue traditional wear, Salwar Kurta,   with a pink shawl, clutching a red bag to her chest, as if it was filled with gold. She had instinctively looked up and smiled at him brightly.  Samir had quickly covered his underwear with the curtain.

“Just woken up Samir babu? How can you be so lazy on a day like this?” She chimed playfully and walked inside the house, humming and swaying her hips in the rhythm. With a flawless olive complexion, a perfect round body, and a perfect round face, he thought a goddess carved to perfection, just walked inside his life.  

Samir had numbly lowered himself on his bed. His feet shaking – in twenty five years of his life he’d never been affected by a woman like that. Radhika occupied his thoughts most of the time after that day. Whenever he realized her presence in the house, he’d find an excuse to go and talk to his mother, where Radhika would be seated on the floor, messaging one of his mother’s feet on her lap. His mother, who’d be seated comfortably on an easy chair, would ask him to sit with her as a rule, and he would happily obey her. He’d watch mesmerized the sensuous unhurried movements of her hands, nodding absently to whatever his mother would be saying.

She would take a soaked towel, squeeze it and wipe the foot, then she would clean it, scrubbing, and cutting, cleaning away untidy bits.  Her hands would keep working with precision while her head would wander sometimes looking up at her mistress with utter devotion, sometimes at Samir with a bit of mischief and sometimes here and there.   A touch of crimson nail polish – always – and finally a coat a red liquid called ‘Alta’ around the foot to finish.  She’d repeat the same with the other foot.  The conversation would then slowly channel to just Radhika and him.

“Radhika didi” He’d address her as ‘didi’ giving her the respect of an elder sister, as generally practiced in Nepal. “Don’t you get tired of a life like this? Going door to door, cleaning and beautifying women‘s feet?”

She’d laugh and her high cheeks would rise and shine. “No. What’s there to feel tired of? All I do is sit, do my work, talk and talk. I get to pour my heart out and have my client pour their heart out in return. I would not know what to do if I didn’t have this work…I’d surely go mad I think.”

“Why did you choose to be a Naini?”

She laughed again.

“My grandmother did this, my mother did this, and therefore I’m doing it. Do you see this pedicure set? It’s pure silver. I was told that the queen herself presented this to my grandmother! Won’t it rot if not put to use?”

“Who’ll get the set after you?”

“Why? My son Raju of course!”

“But he’s a boy! What if he chooses some other profession?”

“No! Why would he do such a thing? This profession is in our blood!”

“Why don’t you open a beauty parlor? That way women will come to you.” He suggested.

“…That kind of ambitions are only for educated people, not me” She laughed some more.

Raju was her eight year old son, her only family, after her husband vanished during the people’s war in 1996, launched by the Maoists.  Samir would be so engrossed talking to Radhika that he would not notice his mother’s increasing apprehension at his abnormally growing interest on her pedicurist. But thanks to her short span of concentration, or lack of it, or perhaps she thought it improbable that her son, the heir of the Acharya clan, would even dare to think of having any indecent relationship with a woman of low ranks such as Radhika, she would scurry off to attend more pressing task.    

“Don’t just rush off yet” Parvati would tell her pedicurist, handing her a hundred rupees note. “I’ll send tea.”

Parvati had a big house to run, with six servants, who needed constant surveillance – otherwise they’d be just be sitting idly and gossiping.  So, she’d be running up and down the stairs, screaming at them, making sure the house was clean, dirty clothes washed,  clean ones pressed and food prepared on time.

They’d all gather in the semi-traditional dining room – father, mother, his single uncle, his aunt who also decided to stay single and himself.  They’d sit down on flat wooden stools, the Pirka with a low table – the modern addition – and eat in silence. Only sound that could be heard in the room would be of the maid’s bare footsteps rushing in and out of the kitchen, of spoons, chewing, slurping and clearing of throats. This happened three times a day; for lunch, tea and dinner.  There is no custom of having breakfast in Nepal.  Samir was sent his tea omelet and toast in his room. 

Rest of the time, Parvati liked being chauffeured around to her friends, to the latest restaurants, the beauty parlors and clubs in bright chiffon saris, flaunting her diamonds and emeralds – she enjoyed the life to the fullest.  During her absence his aunt, Shobha Acharya took over the house-hold duties.  Shobha was a much demure and a simple human being whose guidance servants preferred to his mother‘s. She followed Buddhism and led a life of a monk, which Samir thought was a shame because he had always felt that his aunt looked stunning.  As a young boy, he’d even developed a crush on her. 

Compared with his mother’s vibrant and colorful personality, his father’s was a dull and subdued one.  He was a thin ill looking figure looming here and there, whose presence people seemed to forget.  Her mother repeatedly recounted an incident to Samir, when her sister had visited – she was gossiping with her, about her husband’s lack of interest in her activities, how he neglected her and so on, not realizing that he was right beside her, cutting vegetables.  In his mid sixties he was balding and what remained of his hair was graying.  Samir felt that his mother might be neglecting him, but could not bring himself to confront her.

His father would wake up early in the morning around 6:00 am.  At 7, Mr. Prem, the neighbor, would come and together they’d practice Pranayama for an hour, as they were two of the millions who were greatly influenced by Swami Ram Dev. After that, he would stroll out, returning around 10 carrying a bag-full of vegetables.  

None of Samir’s family members had any professional occupation as such, being the landlords for generations, their ancestors thought it beneath themselves to work for money.  Although his father’s generation values had been greatly modified, the core influence of caste system still existed.  Samir had a very formal and courteous relationship with his father, so although he felt sorry for him, and realized that it was his duty to make sure he was well looked after, he could not do much about it.  Most of his time was spent in hanging around with his friends and lately fantasizing about running away with Radhika, because he knew that his parents will approve of their marriage.

His questions to Radhika had started becoming a little more personal, and asked only when his mother was not around. Last Friday, for example, his mother had rushed off to some party without informing Radhika, not to come.    

“I should go then” Radhika was about to leave. She did not seem upset at all that his mother did not inform her.  Perhaps she was accustomed to her mistress’ whimsical behavior. But Samir felt very sorry for her.

“Since you’ve come all this way, why don’t you do my nails today?” He suggested.  She stared at him. Her eyes were wide ready to laugh.  So Samir seriously added” Why? Don’t you do men’s nails? They need looking after too you know, in fact more so” He said showing her his hand.

“I don’t really care men, women, animals…as long as they’ve got nails” She said and proceeded to his mother’s room. 

“Let’s go to my room” He’d told her, and when she looked at him uncertainly, “That room is locked” he lied.

“In that case, I can do it right here” She said, sitting down in the hallway, and began preparing her tools. “Just drag a chair Samir Babu.” she instructed him concentrating on a small knife she was sharpening, which was meant to clean the cuticles.

When she touched his feet, he was aroused, so he quickly stood up. “It tickles” he said. “I’m not used to people touching my feet.” He said and sat down on the floor close to her. “Do my hand.” He said extending his right hand to her.

She took his hand and began cleaning it, chattering away about someone’s dog she had once groomed.

“Did you use the same tool?” was Samir’s only concern, to which she shook her head vigorously “No, no, they gave me a special dog nail clipper!” She reassured him “Even if I did, you wouldn’t have to worry, their dog’s nail was cleaner than some human nails I’ve cleaned with these tools” she added, looking at him mischievously and continued updating him on different degrees of cleanliness maintained by her different rich clients.

Samir had not heard or understood what she had been saying. “Radhika…why didn’t you get married again?” He‘d stopped calling her ‘didi’ lately.  Samir thought it improper addressing his future wife as elder sister.

The gay atmosphere that was normally created by her laughter at his every question, went amiss – her playful eyes suddenly seemed overshadowed by dark clouds. “I don’t want unnecessary trouble anymore. Samir babu” she said frowning but not taking her eyes off his hand. “That’s what men are. Trouble. I’m happy with my solitary life… Wouldn‘t dream about changing it.”

“Why? Who’ll look after you when you’re old?”

“Who else? My son of course!”

Samir shook his head. “They don’t anymore…don’t you know? He’ll get married to a mean bitch and then they’ll kick you out.  Then what you will do?”

Her face lighted up and a long overdue laughter erupted.  She could not speak until her laughter subsided “Not my Raju, Samir Babu, he loves me very much. He will never do such a thing…I know this.”

This has been the way she created an impenetrable wall, each time he tried to reach her, which only made his restlessness grow.  Sometime back, his uncle had passed by when he was making Radhika laugh, and he had peeped inside the room frowning.

“Samir, don’t you have anywhere to go?” He said in his deep voice.

It was around this time that his parents have started to nag him to go back to Sydney – first his mother, and now his father, who’d send for him just this morning in his room.

“It’s not good, what is happening, son.” As far as Samir could remember, this was the first time he’d heard him speak so many words at the same time.

“What’s happening bua?” Samir innocently enquired.

“You’re wasting your time here…I made a big mistake by listening to your mother. Go back now. You’ve loitered around enough.”

“Bua I’m not loitering around…I’m looking for a decent job.”

“You won’t find a decent job like this!” His father argued raising his voice. “Go to the embassy and start the visa procedure. If you don’t by this evening, I will do it for you.” There was a clear warning in his voice.

“Ok. Bua, just give me one month, if I don’t find a job by then, I promise I’ll go back.”

Hari looked at his son unconvinced.

“I said I promise.”

Samir had somehow managed to buy some time from his father this morning, but he realized that he did not have much time left. He anxiously waited for the Friday, which was still two days away. Meanwhile he applied for some jobs from the newspaper advertisements, and surfed for some courses he could keep himself occupied with so that people won‘t think he‘s just loitering around.

On Friday morning, Samir’s eyes opened the second the Gate opened. He rushed to the window, anticipating the pleasantries they shared every Friday mornings. But she did not look up and proceeded inside the house, looking preoccupied with some thought. He waited, as it would not be proper to go to his mother’s room anymore. But he could not stop himself from strolling near the room.  He could hear Radhika giggling.  After sometime there was some more giggling – Samir had never heard his mother giggle like that.  He wondered what they might be talking about; his ears itched to hear what was going on in that room.  But he knew he could not risk it – if his father somehow came to know about it, he’d be instantly packed off to Australia. 

The gate opened again and Samir rushed out. Radhika seemed much cheerful when she left than when she arrived.  He felt encouraged and followed her to the other house she visited in the proximity, and waited outside, promenading to and fro in a public garden, looking frequently at the door. After about another hour she emerged from the door. He approached her. She saw him.

“What happened Samir Babu, lost your way?” she asked him.  That smile of hers that he adored was missing.

“I need to talk to you…let’s go and have some tea.” he said casually.

“I can’t. I have three more homes to visit” she replied shortly and quickly walked away. He followed her but could not keep up with her pace as she stopped a bus overflowing with people, and climbed in.  He tried to climb in after her, but the men who were hanging to the gate with half their bodies outside weren’t as cooperative as they were with Radhika.  He watched helplessly as the bus drove away.

“Fuck!" Samir took out his frustration by stamping on the floor.

He had no choice but to wait for another Friday. Meanwhile he attended two interviews for the post of an accountant. Passing one week had never been so difficult before. 

Late one evening, after playing with his dinner, and not eating much, he had gone up the roof.  He spent one hour lying down flat, staring at the stars wondering what might be going on inside Radhika’s head, while his was constantly occupied by her.  He wondered how she spent her time when she’s not cleaning women’s feet.  Did she listen to music?  Did she watch TV? He stayed up until the mosquitoes started singing in his ears. 

While he was climbing down the stairs close to his parents’ room, he thought he heard his father mention his name.  He stopped.  Everyone had gone to sleep.  Samir quietly tiptoed closer to the door.  It was not like him, eavesdropping, but his name had been mentioned.  Besides he’d never known his parents speaking this intimately with each other.  They appeared to avoid each other most times hardly speaking a word.  Samir suddenly felt that things were not what they appeared.  People – his own family, he felt were not what they appeared.  He felt like an alien in his own house.  He could not stop himself from sticking his ear to the door.

There was laughing from his mother. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you” He heard her say.

“I think you’re being immature about this” Said his father.

“No I’m not…trust me.”

“You speak as if you know your son very well.  Don’t forget. He was in Australia for seven years, and I can see much change in him”

“I may not know my son very well, but I know Radhika very well. And you have nothing to worry about” Said his mother. 

In his room that night Samir reflected about the conversation between his parents. What did she know about Radhika;  Perhaps she has a boyfriend. He thought.  So what?  He couldn’t be as handsome, educated or as rich as he is.  Samir was sure he could make Radhika understand, she’d be better off with him compared to some low rank peon, or driver she must be seeing. 

The much awaited Friday arrived, and he followed the same routine, but this time, hid behind a tree when she emerged from the second house. She got into the bus, he took a taxi.  He followed her, stopping and waiting as the passengers climbed off and on.  When Radhika climbed down, Samir paid off the taxi. The dreary day proceeded, for couple more hours as she made two more stops and finally led him to what he guessed was her apartment, in a crowded area in Patan.

He knocked after she shut the door.  She had a panicky expression when

Radhika saw him at her doorstep.

“Samir Babu what are you doing here?”

He went inside pushing her gently to the side. “Radhika, I have to talk to you now.”

“But this is not the right time! You must leave at once!” She said looking outside nervously and closing the door.

Samir surveyed her apartment. It was a two-roomed, rather small but a tidy apartment. He looked back at her determinately without budging.

“Please go! I have some guests coming…we’ll do the talking some other time” There was urgency in the way she spoke, which only intrigued him. Then there was a soft knock on the door. Radhika dragged him to the other room.

“You’ve got to hide.” She whispered fiercely.

“Why?”

“No time to explain…just hide behind this door and please Samir Babu,  whatever you do, don’t come out unless I ask you to.” She said. The knock was getting a little impatient.  She looked at him desperately.

“I’ll hide.” he promised.

Samir went behind the door. She has a lover! Of course she has…that explains the distance! Who else would knock at her door like that?  Samir thought, feeling a stab in his heart.  He then froze as he heard a familiar voice. The voices intermingled, the exchanges heated up, and simmered…becoming intimate.  While all this was happening, Samir’s world was crumbling, falling to pieces around him.  It was the world he had dreamed of, where he lived happily with Radhika.   The voice was causing the agony more than anything; the voice which unmistakably was of his mother.

After two weeks…

Samir got up at 5:00 am in the morning, not being able to sleep all night, and was packing his bag. He hadn’t been able to shake off what he heard in Radhika’s house. After taking a peek, he had tried to plug his ears with his fingers and shut his eyes tightly, while two women giggled and shamelessly groped each other.  After she left, he slowly walked out from the hiding and then from the apartment.  Radhika was still straitening her clothes when he did.

He hasn’t spoken to his mother.  Parvati in the meanwhile had been trying to talk to him.  And when she had come with his father to find out what was eating him, he told them, “I’ve decided to go back….” Then looking at his mother, “You were right bua, there is nothing for me over here.” He said. 

They left him alone, probably assuming that his unsuccessful job hunting was causing the weird behavior.  His reporting time at the airport was at 10:00 am. But he was going to leave before eight - before the gate opens, and her mother’s lover enters. The rage has subsided to some extent now, but he will never forgive her for betraying his father.  Samir stared at the white envelope he was holding. It was a letter he had written, which he would hand his father at the airport before catching the flight back to Sydney. But as he stared at the envelope the sounds from Radhika’s apartment played in his head, and the wound became fresh.  He had a slight change of plan.

He neatly folded the envelope, and put it in his pocket, and went outside, quietly climbed the stairs, and walked towards his parents’ room. Slowly turning the door knob, Samir tiptoed inside. Mr and Mrs Acharya were fast asleep in each other’s embrace. His first reaction was embarrassment and he immediately turned to go, but then he stopped.  He looked back – it did not look as if they’d made love, because both of them were fully clothed.  There was something else going on there.  Something deeper, something more extraordinary that he could not identify.  He stared at the two entangled bodies drawing warmth from each other.  Whatever façade his father might have felt necessary to show others, here, he looked happy; his mother looked happy.  Suddenly he was awash with a feeling of guilt, as he became witness to a bond which seemed greater than the rest…even his mother’s betrayal. He tip - toed back outside.

Back in his room, Samir ripped the envelope into tiny shreds into a bin.  He went back to sleep. There’s still a long to my flight. 

 

END