The Long Trip to Goodbye - 2. Chapter 2

In movies you always find a con artist with a heart of gold, a hot princess or a millionaire telling interesting stories sitting beside you in an airplane. My luck usually draws mothers with infants on lap, snorers or worse, talkers who bore me. If it were another Indian in the next seat chances are they would fall into the last category. Of course their interest is stoked only once it’s established that you are a fellow techie making a sizeable income. Invariably they ask the question “but why do you live in the city? San Francisco is so expensive! How much do you pay for rent?” Irreverent responses draw them in further and you start smelling the desire to be turned into someone’s drinking buddy.

It is at this stage I usually sneak in the detail of my sexuality. Easiest in is when they ask me about my favorite bars. I’d mention a Gay one. If they admit to not having heard of it I’d inform it’s in Castro. Usually the penny drops at this stage. If it doesn’t then I obviously put them in the category of ‘ignorant loser’. What’s more, this usually is my escape route once I clarify that it's a Gay bar. Expected response is an expansion of the eyes and a gradual to sudden cessation of interest; works perfectly for me! Except that sometimes it doesn’t.

Like this time when I found myself spending the first leg of my journey answering personal questions from a sincere man who with insouciance said “you’re the first Indian gay man I’ve ever actually talked to”. How can I not take someone like that under my wing? As my plane banked over the lush rain forests of Kerala during descent I cursed my luck. I had not slept as much as I like to in flight and now I was going to be horribly jet lagged. It did occur to me that my desire to educate was also at fault. But I would not have to do it once openly Gay Indian stopped being a novelty! I stifled a yawn at the thought. Energy! I needed to find energy for what was coming next.

As soon as I exited the air conditioned confines of the Cochin International Airport beads of sweat broke out under my pits. Despite the heat the group receiving me was in good spirits. My father, mother, sister, her husband and their little boy, all welcomed me with beaming faces that I matched. Mother and my sister, Radha kissed my cheek while my dad placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Oh my son, my pet how skinny you’ve become. Don’t you eat at all?” My mother’s opening statement was predictable. She almost monopolized the conversation in the initial part of the drive back to my sister’s house. We were spending the first two days there before driving to my parents’ place which was four hours away in a village. After appraising me of local gossip about my aunts, uncles, acquaintances and what not she started with the questioning.

“When do you have to go for Darshan’s wedding?”

“Next Friday.”

“Who all are going?”

“I don’t know. Priya and Anurag are. That’s all I know.”

“Hmm. Has Priya gotten married yet?”

“No.”

“It’s only you two left now, isn’t it?”

I did not respond.

“I have a few girls I want you to see.”

Radha, my sister tried to intervene. “Ma, do we have to talk about this now? He just landed.”

“You keep your mouth closed.” Mother did not believe in mincing words. Luckily I was the only one she could not run rough shod over. It was too early in my trip for us to get into it.

“Ma! You really want me to respond right now?”

The tone I used was forbidding and the message carried through. Luckily my two year old nephew who’d been sitting on my lap got fidgety. Mother diverted her attention to him..

Father used this reprieve to ask whether my new job was stable. My brother in law Dinesh, who was driving, inquired about San Francisco’s weather and if I got good food there. Throughout this time my sister had kept quiet. We would connect in our own time. She let others have their say and was content with sharing smiles with me.

Once we arrived I rushed to take a shower while Radha and Ma got busy in the kitchen. First sprays that hit me were heavenly. The knots on my neck and shoulders couldn’t be tighter. Under the shower's shield I let myself think of what lay ahead. Things had gone exactly as expected. Ma had gone on attack from the get go. It was her way of letting me know that she meant business. I hoped I had at least two days before the battle started for real.

For lunch my mom and sister had made fish, sambar, chicken curry, veggies and rice. The fish was my favorite. Really, there’s no cuisine in the world that does sea food better than Malayali. Everyone enjoyed watching me hog calories. I bet Mothers find the greatest reassurance when their grown up kids vouch to missing their cooking. At least mine does. I could spot some mistiness in her eyes as I devoured slice after slice of spicy fried sear fish. I wasn’t used to this level of hotness in my food and my running nose provided for American convert jokes. I sat back on the chair with a bloated tummy and scanned the scene. Family, this is what I had come here for.

Afterwards I brought the gifts out. I’d gotten some toys and clothes for my nephew. For my dad and Dinesh I had brought Nike shoes and t-shirts and for Radha - hand bags and shoes. Finally, for Mom I’d bought a set of gold necklace, earrings and bangles from the duty free at Dubai where I had had my lay over. The moment she laid eyes on them she started on me.

“Gold? Why did you waste money like this? You know how many ornaments I have. Look at his” she said to my dad who immediately started checking out my nephew’s toys “way to throw money away.” I could not say her reaction surprised me. She continued ranting in her usual high pitch.

“At my age I shouldn’t even wear gold anymore. I was thinking of exchanging my jewelry for diamond sets now. And here you go buying me more gold. Where can I wear something this heavy?”

Radha who’d stayed out of it so far picked the culprit out of Mother’s lap.

“It’s a great design. If you don’t want it I’ll take it.”

Mother eyed her warily. Mellowing her tone she said, “But your brother brought it for me. I’ll keep it. Or, he’ll feel bad. You can borrow it when you want.”

“He won’t feel bad. Will you feel bad, Shekhar?”

“Nope” I supplied. I was playing with little Sid who had warmed up to his new remote operated race car. At least someone appreciated my gift for them.

“It ‘is’ a good design isn’t it?” My sister was holding the necklace up in the light.

“Yes. Very classy” Radha agreed. "I’ll wear it for Naveen’s wedding next month. Will it look good with my new Green Sari?”

“That plain silk one? No, it won’t go with that. It’ll look better with my Kanchivaram.” Her voice was very low as she said the last line. She gently but firmly pried the ornament out of my sister's hands.

“I can wear another sari" Radha prodded further.

“No no. I'll wear it this time for Naveen’s wedding. You can borrow it another time. Whoever changes Sari based on jewelry? It’s unheard of.” Finishing with an embarrassed laugh she looked at me for concurrence. As if!

“Suit yourself.” Radha gave in then came to join me and father where we were playing with Sid. A brief look passed between us. Father snorted and got up to hide his smirk behind a newspaper. Life had taught us that laughing openly at this moment could be dangerous for the hard won peace.

Sid started yawning and was taken by his mother for his afternoon nap. Dinesh, who’d avoided all this drama, was enjoying the siesta inside; it was his weekend after all. Mother then came up to me and kissed my cheek.

“Why do you waste money on things like this?”

“I wanted to get you something. If you don’t want it, give it away.”

“I won’t give it away.”

“Don’t then. I don’t care.”

I was lying. Much as i wished I did not, I cared.