A Fine Balance Part 4

He shut the case and, rising slightly on his toes, slipped it on top of the cupboard. "Play, play, play that's what my parents used to say." He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I wish I had at least kept their double bed." Then he asked shyly, "Were you comfortable last night?"

"Oh yes." She blushed at the fresh memory of the narrow single bed in which they had clung together.

After a breakfast of an omelette and b.u.t.tered toast, he opened the front door and said there was a surprise for her. "It was too dark to show you last night."

"What is it?"

"You have to step outside."

She saw the new bra.s.s nameplate gleaming in sunlight, engraved Mr. & Mrs. Rustom K. Dalai. He basked in the pleasure it gave her. "Day before yesterday is when I screwed it on."

"It looks lovely."

"Changing the nameplate was easy," he chuckled. "It's much more difficult to change the name on the rent receipt."

"What do you mean?"

"The rent is collected in my father's name though he's been dead for nine years. The landlord hopes I will get impatient, offer money to transfer the flat to my name. He keeps hinting."

"Are you going to?"

"Of course not. There's nothing he can do, the Rent Act protects us. It doesn't matter in whose name the rent receipt is issued. And you are ent.i.tled to live here too, as my wife. Even if I were to die tomorrow."

"Rustom! Don't say such things!"

He laughed. "When the rent-collector comes with the receipt in my father's name, sometimes I feel like telling him to go up, to heaven, to the renter's new address."

Dina rested her head against his shoulder. "For me, heaven is in this flat."

Rustom drew her close and hugged her. "For me too." Then he gave the nameplate another s.h.i.+ne with his sleeve. While they were admiring it, two handcarts rolled up and stopped by their door, laden with things from the Shroff residence.

At first, Rustom had arranged for a small lorry because Dina had requested Nusswan to let her have Daddy's huge wardrobe, the one with the carved rosewood canopy of a sunburst and flowers. She would forgo everything else, she said, for this one item. Nusswan promised to consider it but refused in the end. He said that squeezing the wardrobe through the narrow door of Rustom's flat would damage it, the scratches would be unfair to their father's memory, and, besides, its proportions wouldn't suit the tiny rooms.

So he let her have another cupboard, smaller and plainer, a little desk, and twin beds. There was also a large box of kitchen utensils that Ruby had put together after discreetly inquiring whether Rustom's kitchen was properly equipped. To get them started, she included pots and pans, a stove, some cutlery, a board and a rolling pin.

The two handcarts were unloaded and the twin beds a.s.sembled. One of the carters offered to buy the old single. Rustom let him have it for thirty rupees, and got ten for the mattress from the other man.

As Dina watched them carry it away, he said, "I know what you're thinking. But this flat has no s.p.a.ce for an extra bed." She wondered how close they would sleep that night, now that there were twin beds.

But one of the two was as good as unslept in when they woke on their second morning. Rea.s.sured, she spent the day getting her new home organized the way she wanted it. First, she gave notice to Seva Sadan, terminating delivery of Rustom's evening meals. And for lunch, she would pack something for him when he returned to work the following week.

"No more nonsense of eating out or not eating at all," she said, and climbed up on a chair to examine the high shelf in the kitchen. She discovered a series of bra.s.s and copper vessels, a kettle, and a set of kitchen knives.

"Those are all gone bad," said Rustom. "I've been meaning to sell them for sc.r.a.p. Tomorrow, I promise."

"Don't be silly, these are solid old things. They can be repaired and tinned. Nowadays you can't buy such quality."

The next time a tinker yelled outside their window, she called him to fix the leaking vessels and rivet the broken handle of the kettle. She watched to make sure he did the work properly. As he finished each pot, she took it to the bathroom and tested it with water.

The knife-grinder went by with his wheel slung over his shoulder. The tinker stopped hammering while she clapped twice to get his attention.

The dull blades soon began glinting with sharp edges. She relished the energy, the attention, the pounding and banging that went into getting her household s.h.i.+pshape for decades of wedded bliss with Rustom. A lifetime had to be crafted, just like anything else, she thought, it had to be moulded and beaten and burnished in order to get the most out of it.

The knife-grinder averted his face as sparks flew from the spinning grindstone. Like Divali fireworks, she thought, while the tinker's hammer blows rang gaily in her ears.

Dina and Rustom celebrated their first wedding anniversary by going to the cinema and dining out. They saw Submarine Command Submarine Command, starring William Holden, who played an American naval commander in Korea. They held hands during the film and, afterwards, ate chicken biryani at the Wayside Inn.

The following year Dina wanted to see something less grim. So they picked Bing Crosby's High Society High Society, a brand-new release. She had bought a new frock for the occasion, blue, with a vivacious peplum that came alive with walking.

"I don't know if you should wear that," said Rustom, coming up behind her and stroking her hips.

"Why?" she smiled, wiggling to tease him.

"You'll drive the men wild in the streets. Better carry your pointy paG.o.da parasol to protect yourself."

"Won't you protect me, and fight them off?"

"Okay. In that case, I'll carry your spear. Better still, I'll bring my violin the screeching will scare them more."

They enjoyed the film immensely. The blue frock was their private joke all evening as they imagined envious women and l.u.s.tful men thirsting to get their hands on it. For dinner they went to Mongini's; the desserts there had a wonderful reputation.

On their third anniversary, they decided to invite Nusswan, Ruby, and the children (there were two now) to dinner. Relations between them had been cordial since the wedding. Dina and Rustom were always asked to the children's birthdays, and also on Navroze and Khordad Sal. Dina, sometimes alone, sometimes with Rustom, had taken to dropping in with sweets for her nephews, or just to say h.e.l.lo. The ill feelings had disappeared so completely that it was hard to remember them with any clarity. One was tempted to conclude that it had all been exaggerated by the imagination.

The little anniversary party proceeded most amicably. Dina could not afford a new outfit, and wore last year's blue frock. Ruby admired it, and praised Dina's cooking. She said that the pulao-dal was really tasty. Dina replied graciously that she had learned a lot from her sister-in-law. "But I still have a long way to go before reaching your standards."

For the two boys, who were only six and three, Dina had cooked separately, without spices. But Xerxes and Zarir insisted on having what the adults were eating. Ruby allowed them a taste of it, and they wanted more despite their tongues hanging out.

"Never mind," said Dina, laughing, "the ice cream will put out the fire."

"Can I have it now?" chorused the children.

"Rustom Uncle has yet to go and get it," said Dina. "We don't have an icebox like yours to store it. Here, have this for the time being," and she popped sugar crystals in their mouths from the ceremonial tray of garlands and coconuts.

Later, while she cleared the table with Ruby helping, Rustom decided it was time to go for the Kwality Family Pack. "In case they don't have strawberry, which one chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate," said Xerxes.

"Lanilla," said Zarir, and everyone laughed.

"Lanilla!" teased Rustom. "You always have to be different, don't you?"

"I wonder from where he got the trait," said Nusswan. "Certainly not his father," and they all laughed again. He seized the opportunity to add, "But what about you two, Rustom? Time to start a family, I think. Three years is long enough for a holiday."

Rustom only smiled, not wanting to encourage a discussion. He opened the door to leave, and Nusswan jumped up. "Shall I give you company?"

"Oh no, just relax, you're the guest. Besides, if we walk, it will take too long. Alone, I can go on my cycle, return in ten minutes."

Dina set out clean plates and spoons for the ice cream, and put the kettle on. "The tea should be nice and ready by the time he is back."

Fifteen minutes later, they were still waiting. "Where can he be? The tea is getting so strong. Maybe you two should drink yours now."

"No, we'll wait for Rustom," said Ruby.

"There must be a big rush or something at the ice-cream shop," said Nusswan.

Dina boiled a second kettleful to dilute the infusion. She returned the pot under the tea-cosy. "Forty-five minutes since he left."

"Maybe it was sold out at the first place," said Nusswan. "Strawberry is very popular, always out of stock. Maybe he went somewhere else, further away."

"He wouldn't, he knows I would worry."

"Maybe he got a puncture," said Ruby.

"Even walking back with a puncture would take only twenty minutes."

She went to the verandah to see if she could spot him pedalling in the distance. It reminded her of the nights when they would part after the concert recitals, and she would be on the upper deck of the bus, trying to keep his disappearing bicycle in sight.

The memory made her smile, but it quickly faded under the present anxiety. "I think I'll go and see what's the matter."

"No, I'll go," offered Nusswan.

"But you don't know where the shop is, or the road Rustom would take. You might miss each other."

In the end they both went. Seeing how tense Dina was, he kept repeating, "Has to be a perfectly simple explanation." She nodded, walking faster. He had to make an effort to keep up.

It was after nine, and the streets were quiet. In the lane at the end of which stood the ice-cream shop, a knot of people had gathered by the footpath. As they got closer, Nusswan and Dina noticed that the police were also present.

"Wonder what's going on," said Nusswan, trying to conceal his alarm.

Dina was the first to spot the bicycle. "It's Rustom's," she said. Her voice had turned into a stranger's, sounding unfamiliar to her own ears.

"Are you sure?" He knew she was. The bicycle was mangled but the saddle was whole. He pushed his way through the crowd towards the policemen. A roaring storm filled her ears, and their words reached her feebly, as though from a great distance.

"A b.a.s.t.a.r.d lorry driver," said the sub-inspector. "Hit and run. No chance for the poor man, I think. Head completely crushed. But ambulance has taken him to hospital anyway."

A stray dog lapped at the thick pink puddle near the bicycle. Strawberry ice cream was in stock, thought Dina numbly. A policeman kicked the sand-coloured mongrel. It yelped and retreated, then returned for more. When he kicked it again, she screamed.

"Stop that! What harm is it doing to you? Let it eat!"

Startled, the policeman said "Yes madam" and stepped back. The dog slurped hungrily, whimpering with pleasure while keeping a wary eye on the man's foot.

Nusswan obtained the name of the hospital. The sub-inspector took his address, and asked Dina, who was staring at the twisted bicycle, for hers. The bicycle would be retained as evidence for the time being in case the lorry driver was found, he explained gently. He offered to give them a lift to the hospital.

"Thank you," said Nusswan. "But they will be wondering at home what happened."

"It's okay, I'll send a constable to say not to worry, there's been an accident and you are at the hospital," said the sub-inspector. "Then you can explain everything later."

Thanks to the sub-inspector's help, procedures were expedited at the hospital, and Nusswan and Dina were able to leave quickly. "Let's take a taxi," said Nusswan.

"No, I want to walk."

By the time they reached home, the tears were silently streaming down her cheeks. Nusswan held her and stroked her head. "My poor sister," he whispered. "My poor little sister. I wish I could bring him back for you. Cry now, it's all right, cry all you need to." He wept a little himself as he told Ruby about the accident, in whispers.

"Oh G.o.d!" sobbed Ruby. "What is the meaning of such misfortune! In a few minutes, Dina's whole world destroyed! How can it be? Why does He allow such things?" She composed herself before waking the children, while Dina went to change out of her blue frock.

"Can we eat the strawberry ice cream now?" asked Xerxes and Zarir sleepily.

"Rustom Uncle is not well, we have to go home," said Ruby, deciding it was better to explain gradually.

Dina soon emerged from her room, and Nusswan went to her side. "You must also come home with us, you cannot stay here alone."

"Of course, absolutely," said Ruby, taking her hand and squeezing it.

Nodding, Dina went to the kitchen and began making a package of the leftover pulao-dal. Ruby watched curiously, half-fearfully, before asking, "Can I help?"

Dina shook her head. "No sense wasting this food. On our way home, we can give it to a beggar at the corner."

Later, Nusswan would say to whomever he was recounting the events that he was really impressed with the dignified way his sister had behaved on that cruel night. "No wailing, no beating the chest or tearing the hair like you might expect from a woman who had suffered such a shock, such a loss." But he also remembered their mother's dignity on a similar occasion, and the disintegration that had followed in its wake. He hoped Dina would not follow the same pattern.

Dina packed her valise with a white sari and other things she would need for the next few days. It was the same one she had brought with her three years ago on her wedding night.

After the funeral and four days of prayers, Dina prepared to return to her flat. "What's the rush?" said Nusswan. "Stay here a little longer."

"Of course," said Ruby. "Here you are with family. What will you do there all alone?"

Dina wavered easily, for she did not feel ready to go back. The most difficult hours were the ones before dawn. She slept with one arm over a pillow. Sometimes she nudged the pillow lightly with her elbow, her signal to Rustom that she wanted his arm around her. When the human weight did not materialize, she awakened to emptiness, relearning the loss in the darkness before sunrise. Occasionally, she called out his name, and Ruby or Nusswan, if they heard her, came into the room and held her tight, stroking her hair.

"It's not as though you are going to be a burden on us by staying," said Nusswan. "In fact, you will be company for Ruby."

So Dina stayed. Word got about that she was temporarily at her brother's place, and a stream of relatives arrived on condolence visits. After the formal purpose of the call was dealt with, the conversation took on the hue of a genial get-together, and Nusswan and Ruby enjoyed the socializing. "It's the best thing possible for Dina," they agreed.

Rustom's s.h.i.+rin Aunty and Darab Uncle had attended all four days of prayer at the Towers of Silence, but came again after a week. They sat for a while, had a gla.s.s of lemon cordial and said, "For us, it is like losing a son. But remember, you are still our daughter. If you ever need anything, you can come to us. Remember, anything at all."

Ruby overheard this and p.r.i.c.kled. "That's very kind of you. But we are here, Nusswan and I, to look after her."

"Yes, of course, thanks be to G.o.d," said the elderly couple, taken aback by the sharpness in her voice. "May He give you both a long, healthy life. Dina is very fortunate to have you two." They left shortly, hoping they had managed to salve Ruby's feelings.

A month pa.s.sed, and Dina settled into her old routine, a.s.suming her former place in the household. The servant was let go. Dina did not mind, it gave her something to do with her long, empty days. Xerxes and Zarir, of course, were thrilled to have Dina Aunty living with them. Xerxes was in the second standard and Zarir had just started kindergarten. She volunteered to take them to school; it would be easy, on her way to the bazaar in the mornings.

On Sunday evenings Nusswan organized card games. The three adults played rummy for a couple of hours while the children watched. Sometimes Dina allowed Xerxes and Zarir to hold her cards. At seven, the women started dinner, and Nusswan amused himself by building a house of cards with the children or glancing over the Sunday newspaper a second time.

Once a week Dina went to her empty flat to dust and clean. There she followed the exact habit of housework that she had developed when Rustom was alive. At the end of the cleaning she made tea. There in the privacy of the dingy kitchen she sat with her cup, remembering, sometimes crying softly, and the tea usually went cold. She often poured it away after drinking half a cup.

After following this secret pattern of mourning for some weeks, she began allowing a part of herself to pretend everything was normal, the flat was occupied, the separation temporary. There didn't seem to her any harm in it, and the make-believe was so comforting.

Then one evening, as dusk was falling and the headlights of cars had started to come on, she caught herself gazing out from the verandah to see if Rustom's bicycle was approaching. A s.h.i.+ver ran down her spine. She decided enough was enough. Flirting with madness was one thing; when madness started flirting back, it was time to call the whole thing off.