The Forbidden Daughter (21 page)

That night, as Isha lay in bed, mulling over Ayee’s illness, she made a decision to talk to Harish about it. He’d be able to explain it in layman’s terms. Modern medical science had supposedly made heart conditions more treatable these days.

Ayee would be fine. She
had
to be fine.

Chapter 18

Isha sprinkled the finely chopped coriander to garnish the chicken curry, and then set it and the salad on the dining table. It was a simple meal with an accompanying vegetable dish, rice, and
chapatis
.

After much debate over whether to cancel Priya’s birthday party because of the news about Ayee’s illness, Sheila had convinced Isha that they should go ahead with the plans. Besides, Priya was looking forward to it so much, Isha didn’t want to break her heart. The previous year, she’d had no party at all.

And there was such little joy in her children’s lives to begin with.

Priya was in her element, dressed in her new dress, her pigtails secured with matching pink satin ribbons. Her little girl looked like an angel. And she became six years old today. Nikhil would have been ecstatic to see Priya reading and writing and learning so many new things in school.

At least he’d had an opportunity to enjoy the first five years of Priya’s life. But he’d never see his younger child, the baby he’d fought so hard to save when she was no more than a tad-pole swimming in Isha’s womb.

The doorbell rang and Isha brushed aside her thoughts to get the door. Sheila stood outside with a cardboard box in her arms—the ice-cream cake. As always, she looked perfect, complete with shoulder-length hair fashionably styled, electric blue crepe-silk sari, and matching sapphire and pearl jewelry at her THE

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neck, ears, and wrists. Isha never stopped marveling at her sister-in-law’s skill at looking so poised and attractive at all times.

Arvind and Milind stood on either side of their mother, each one holding two presents. They were typical boys and Sheila had a hard time keeping their clothes clean. But today the boys looked well scrubbed in their clean pants and T-shirts. Their dark hair was brushed back neatly and their cherubic faces with the gorgeous hazel eyes were a quite a sight. Isha knew they had been told to be on their best behavior for their little cousin’s party.

“Wow! What a striking threesome!” Isha exclaimed with a grin. “Come right in. The birthday girl’s been waiting for you.”

Priya greeted her cousins and aunt with a gleeful whoop.

“Yeah, presents!”

With an indulgent “Happy Birthday” for the animated Priya, Sheila put the ice-cream cake in the small refrigerator in the kitchen. Then she bent down to lift Diya off the floor and into her arms.

“What time should I serve dinner?” asked Isha.

“Kumar is coming directly from work,” replied Sheila, glanc-ing at the clock. “He should be here soon. We can have an early dinner and then cake later.”

“Doctor-kaka is coming to my party, too,” announced Priya, while her impatient hands were already tearing into the gifts.

Sheila’s brows flew up. “Doctor-kaka?”

Isha busied herself with picking up the scraps of wrapping paper Priya and the boys were strewing around. “Priya asked Harish Salvi and I seconded the invitation. It just sort of . . .

happened.”

“I see.” Sheila gave her a veiled look. “Looks like Priya is becoming rather fond of this Dr. Salvi. She’s mentioned how nice and how clever he is several times recently.”

“He seems to have a way with children. Priya and Diya like him a lot.”

“And he’s coming here today, huh?” Sheila threw Isha that oblique look again. “I’ll tell you what I think after I meet him. If he’s that good, I might switch my boys from Dr. Bajaj to him.”

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Shobhan Bantwal

“But you’re addicted to Bajaj,” reminded Isha, tossing the scraps into the dustbin.

“He’s getting a bit cranky in his old age. The boys are beginning to grumble about him.”

“Then you might seriously consider Harish Salvi. He’s not a rich, established old chap like Bajaj.” Isha went into the kitchen to get the plates and spoons, with Sheila close on her heels.

“He’s quite young, and has started practicing recently. But he’s thorough and he’s patient. He explains things well when I ask questions.”

“We’ll see,” said Sheila.

The doorbell rang again. One of the boys ran to get the door.

Isha looked up to find Harish standing on the threshold, looking a little awkward. He was dressed in elegant black pants and a steel-gray shirt. He held a package in his hands. With his straight bearing, glasses, and old-fashioned haircut, he could have passed for a young college professor.

A surge of warmth crept up on her the moment their eyes met. Despite knowing he was coming, the joy of seeing him was unexpected. “Hello, Harish. Come on in.”

She introduced him to Sheila and the boys. When all the formal
namastes
were over, he handed the gift-wrapped package to Priya. “Many Happy Returns, Priya. I hope you like what I got you.”

Priya took the gift and beamed at him. “Thank you. What is it?”

“If you’re allowed to open it now, you can see for yourself.”

Isha laughed at the remark. “Look at the mess here. You can see all the other gifts have already been opened.”

Priya tore open the wrapping in an instant and looked at the flat cardboard box with a mild frown. She turned it upside down. “What is this?”

“It’s a chess set.”

“What is a
chess
set?”

“It’s a game. It has a board with squares and various pieces that have to be placed in a certain fashion inside the squares.”

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Milind, the bright ten-year-old and know-it-all, mocked his young cousin. “Don’t you know that? I know what chess is.”

Arvind, his cheeks still chubby from the last of the lingering baby fat, gave his brother a disdainful look. “No, you don’t!

You can’t even play chess.”

“Yes, I do!” Milind stood with his hands on his hips, clearly ready to take on his brother. Tussles often broke out between the two brothers at the slightest provocation.

Sheila handed the baby over to Isha and put an end to the bickering before it got serious. “That’s enough! Dr. Salvi is a guest and doesn’t need to watch you kids fight like hooligans.”

She gave the boys a forbidding look. “Papa will be here any minute, so you better behave yourselves.”

The boys had a healthy fear of their father, so Milind moved to examine the chess set while his brother and Priya went back to talking to Harish.

Isha excused herself. “I’ll be right back after I feed Diya and get her dressed.” She looked at Sheila and Harish. “Why don’t you two get acquainted in the meantime?”

While she fed the baby, Isha kept her ears tuned to the conversation between Sheila and Harish in the drawing room. At first it sounded a little stilted, but it seemed to get smoother after a while.

The kids kept interrupting them by asking Harish all sorts of questions. He answered them with his usual patience. Isha was amazed at how well he handled them—not condescending, like some adults. What was interesting was that the kids were listening attentively, or at least it seemed that way from what she could hear.

Several minutes later, she had Diya dressed in her own pink dress that more or less matched her big sister’s. If only her father could see her now, lamented Isha—all rosy-cheeked smiles and soft hair beginning to curl just like Priya’s. She was such a beautiful baby.

As she stepped outside the bedroom, the doorbell rang again.

Arvind let Kumar in. “It’s Papa.”

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Shobhan Bantwal

Kumar was a large man with a belly that was steadily growing in size. Unlike his wife, who kept up her figure with exercise and a strict diet, he indulged himself when it came to eating. But he was still good-looking, with his sharp nose, hard jaw, dark mustache, and thick, straight hair with the first streaks of silver creeping in. Being a tall man, he looked imposing.

He rubbed his hands together. “So, are we ready for some cake?” His eyes fell on Harish and he stopped in his tracks.

Sheila jumped in to introduce Harish to her husband. They shook hands. Kumar’s sharp eyes assessed the younger and smaller man. “Dr. Salvi, hmm . . . I’ve heard your name.”

Harish looked surprised. “You have?”

Kumar laughed, looking a bit more relaxed, perhaps because he had heard the name Salvi somewhere. “Oh yes. Pediatrician, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Some of the doctors I play badminton with at the club happen to know you.”

“Oh . . . through the Palgaum Medical Association, I suppose.”

“Must be,” said Kumar before he gave his full attention to Priya, who had her arms wound around his waist. “Happy Birthday, big girl,” he said, returning her hug and tugging on one pigtail. “So, did you get a lot of presents?”

Isha watched the scene fondly as Priya proudly displayed all her gifts to her uncle.

She felt immense gratitude to Kumar for being a surrogate father to her girls. He’d always been affectionate with Priya, just like Sheila was. There seemed to be no bias against girls in his attitude. In fact, Priya always seemed to get that little extra, sweet-angel treatment from them. And Diya was the spoiled little darling who was always being cuddled.

The party proceeded, with the kids eating very little dinner but digging into the ice-cream cake with gusto. Harish seemed to get along well with everyone. And Kumar seemed to warm up to him considerably through dinner.

By the end of the evening, the men were deep in discussion THE

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over what they both seemed to be interested in—politics—

specifically India’s foreign policy.

Isha was glad to note Harish had lost his uneasy look and settled into the rhythm of the evening. He had wiped his glasses with his handkerchief only once so far. She had come to notice that quaint habit of his.

Priya couldn’t have looked happier, surrounded by people who adored her and brought her presents.

Harish got up to leave a little after nine o’clock. “Thank you for inviting me, Priya and Isha,” he said.

Priya looked up at him. “Can you teach me how to play chess?”

“I certainly can. I bet you’re going to be the cleverest six-year-old when you master the game,” he promised her.

“I’m eight, and I’m cleverer than her,” said Arvind, looking very important.

“Ten-year-olds are more clever than eight- and six-year-olds,”

chimed in Milind, not to be outdone by the two younger kids.

Harish handled them with remarkable tact. “A young person’s IQ increases with every year until they reach a certain age, so all three of you can be the smartest in your own age group.”

He glanced at the boys. “Do you two also want to learn chess?”

He got enthusiastic nods from them.

Sheila looked a little skeptical. “Aren’t Arvind and Priya a little young for chess?”

Harish shook his head. “My brother was seven and I was four when our father started to teach us the game. Both Satish and I were champion players by the time we hit eleven and eight.”

“Really!” Sheila stared at him. “That young?”

Isha wasn’t one bit surprised. The boy she’d known in college was considered a genius. She could very well believe he could beat adults at chess when he was eight.

With a promise to start the first chess lesson the following week at Isha’s flat, Harish left. When the Sathe family departed half an hour later amidst a lot of hugs and kisses and thanks, Diya was thankfully fast asleep.

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Shobhan Bantwal

An exhausted Isha tidied and cleaned up the flat while Priya reluctantly got out of her dress and into her pajamas. The child’s cheeks were flushed. She was still riding high from all the attention she’d received. It would be a while before she’d wind down and get some sleep.

Later, as she tucked Priya into bed, Isha felt a sense of peace for the first time in a long while. They’d been in the flat for a few months now and it felt like home. Slowly, even her fear about that secret disk and papers she’d hidden in her
almirah
was beginning to ease off. Maybe nothing would come of it.

Everything seemed to have fallen into a comfortable pattern.

Ever since they had moved in, they’d been offered convenient transportation by Sheila and Kumar. Isha and the girls were picked up and dropped off by Kumar’s chauffeur each day since the boys attended St. John’s School across the street from St. Mary’s. And their schedules coincided well.

Besides, several orders for her custom-made dresses had come in, leaving her surprised and pleased. But they also left her with very little time to do anything else. She’d been working late almost every night. Sheila had done such an efficient job of showcasing her handiwork that all the society women who had girls had apparently fallen in love with it.

Isha had been tempted during the last week or so to quit her job at the orphanage and take up dressmaking full time. But giving up a steady job was risky.

She’d have to give the dress designing and sewing idea some serious thought, though. Until recently she hadn’t even known that she had a talent for such things. She’d done it from instinct, mostly out of necessity.

However, could she make it on her own? Would she be able to start a small business all by herself and run it effectively?

She’d never had to work for a living before, let alone run a business. But now, the challenge of doing something different beckoned as much as it frightened. After all, hadn’t she managed to survive, and feed and clothe her kids?

THE

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She remembered her father-in-law’s contemptuous remark that she’d never be able to make it on her own.

If she could make it this far, then surely she could do other things. Riskier things. Exciting things. In fact, she was enjoying the sense of independence and accomplishment. She could see why Nikhil had liked the challenge of running a business.

Kumar clearly thrived on his, and Harish seemed to take great pride in his medical practice.