“Aargggggghhhhhh…,” Rohan screamed, jumping from behind the bedroom door, his fingers folded in the shape of claws and his face covered in a gory mask.
Rajat stepped back in feigned fright and let out a mock shriek. His mission accomplished, the little one burst out in a hearty laugh.
“Come here, you little Devil….,” he said, grabbing Rohan and lifting him off his feet. “You nearly gave daddy a heart attack… Who got you this horrifying mask?”
“Mom did,” he said, exchanging a smile with his partner in crime – Savita – who was sprawled on the bed, a finger marking the book she’d been reading. “There’s a Halloween party at Ayaan’s place on Monday. This is a part of my costume.”
“Nice,” he observed, turning to face Savita. “And I assume your efficient mother would also have finished the Diwali shopping!”
Savita did not respond. Only, her smile broadened.
“Yes, I got a new Lego set as my Diwali gift. We’ve also got lots of lights and sweets… And presents for Dada and Dadi… The shopping was fun,” Rohan replied.
“Now that’s impressive,” Rajat replied, curling his pursed lips in acknowledgment.
If ever life could be called perfect, for Rajat it was now. As the regional head for a multi-national bank he was responsible for the day to day operations of sixteen branches covering all key cities of Northern India. Not only was he making good money, but in his position he also exercised considerable power and influence over his employees, vendors and other external stakeholders including key government functionaries. Savita too had decided to end her sabbatical and had started a boutique of her own. Given her keen business sense it was no surprise that the business was already thriving within the first year of its existence. Rohan, their only son, was seven and attending one of the most prestigious schools in the city. In short, theirs was the archetypical image of a modern happy family.
The Diwali weekend had only served as a catalyst for Rajat’s elation. He was looking forward to his parents’ annual visit. They would be arriving tomorrow, on the Diwali day, and stay with them for a week. This was a time that Rajat truly cherished – watching Rohan being pampered by his grandparents, unmistakable glimpses of pride that he saw in his father’s eyes at witnessing his son’s success, and the artless dining table conversations with the entire family in attendance.
He had returned early from work today, and after playing with Rohan for a while, had occupied his usual position on the couch, remote in hand. Savita had just handed him a cup of tea and parked herself next to him. She had taken the day off to get the house ‘in-laws ready’ as she liked to call it. And the spic and span house stood testimony to how good a manager she really was. Not only had she supervised the Diwali cleaning to perfection, but had also found time in-between to finish the tedious festive shopping.
“Bibi Ji, I am done… Happy Diwali to both of you,” Meera, the house help announced, no sooner had Savita taken the first couple of sips from her cup.
“One minute,” she said, leaving the comfort of the sofa with a mild display of annoyance. Meera waited, her expectant eyes following Savita right into the kitchen. She had that look on her face that Rajat utterly detested. A look that she put on to demand her alms before every festival, a look of entitlement that had taken away the joy out of giving and turned it into an obligation for them. He distinctly remembered Meera’s first Diwali with them when she had nearly entered into an argument with Savita, refusing to accept anything short of her full month’s wage as the festival bonus. “Greedy bitch,” he whispered under his breath.
“Here, Happy Diwali… and please make sure that you are on time day after, my in-laws will be here,” Savita instructed, handing her a cloth bag and a roll of currency notes. Meera gaily accepted the gifts, nodded and turned on her heels.
“And what did you buy for her… a jewellery set or something?” he mocked, once Savita had reclaimed her seat. More than once he had shared his concerns about Meera’s apparent greed with Savita, and while she hadn’t disagreed with him, her reactions hadn’t been as flared up as Rajat would have wanted. “It’s a small thing… at least she does her work honestly… do you know how challenging it is to get a good maid these days,” she would say, using all possible arguments to downplay the issue.
“Don’t worry… I didn’t buy her anything. I have only given her some old chocolates and sweets that were lying in the fridge… At least they will not go waste this way,” she replied. “Smart,” he said, nodding his approval.
The next evening Rajat was sitting on the couch, tired to the bones. It had been a busy day. From receiving his parents at the airport to the puja in the evening, the day had simply flown past. He and Rohan had just finished lighting candles in the balcony and the boy was busy trying to scare his grandparents with his latest fancy – his Halloween dress.
“Get rid of this… Today is Diwali, you should be wearing nice clothes… What is this horrible thing you have put on,” his grandmother was scolding him, but to no avail.
Rohan, ignoring her words, was busy jumping around and nibbling into something.
“What’s it that you are eating?” Savita enquired, sighting the unfamiliar item in Rohan’s hand.
“This,” he said, opening his fist for his mother’s benefit, “the toffees that Sanju Mama had brought.”
“What! Sanju had got them over six months back, leave them… you want to get a stomach infection or what?” Savita nearly screamed.
“But I like them Mom, why can’t I eat them?”
“They were rotting in the fridge all these days and you never even looked at them… How have you suddenly come to like them now? Go, throw them in the dustbin and have something else… Do you hear me?”
“So, why did you give them to Meera Aunty yesterday? If her kids can eat these, why can’t I?”
Savita had been on the verge of losing her cool and scolding Rohan, but his innocent questions had a strange effect on her. She looked at Rajat and found him looking back at her. And then, in one synchronous motion, their gazes fell to the floor. A message had been delivered, and how. While they had been busy borrowing cultural practices from others, ensuring that their lifestyle kept pace with their worldly achievements, they had somewhere allowed their own culture and values to take a tumble. It wasn’t going to be particularly hard for them to get Rohan to throw away the chocolates, but could they ever get him to erase the impressions they had unwittingly left on his vulnerable mind.
The doorbell rang at its usual time the next morning. Savita opened the door. It was Meera.
“How was your Diwali Meera?” Savita enquired.
“It was nice Biwi Ji…,” she replied, eyeing her somewhat suspiciously.
“Here,” Savita picked up a large bag and handed it over to a hesitant Meera. “These are some sweets for your family and toys for your children. Why don’t you take the day off and take these back to them… And yes, wish everyone a Happy Diwali from our side.”
Meera stood there for a few moments, transfixed and speechless. “Happy Diwali Biwi Ji,” she finally managed to murmur, using the back of her hand to wipe the lone droplet that had managed to escape her eyes. “God bless you!”
First published in Club Class Magazine, November 2016 Issue