Page 109 of Made in Mumbai

“You know what?!”

“What?”

“I’ll kill you!”

“And do all the nappy changes yourself?” He laughed. “No chance. You love your sleep too much.”

She was ready to go through with her threat, her hand even closing around a paper weight. Then she must have realised he wasn’t worth the effort of going to jail. Knowing Maya, her brain would be throwing all kinds of fashion faux pas and dietary restrictions of jail. Gautam smirked as she took a deep breath, then another, then finally relaxed.

“Ok, Gautam. Enough. I need to feed her,” she opened her arms.

“I’ll feed her,” he blinked innocently.

“With what? The juice in your nipples?!”

“Language, Maya, language. I don’t want my daughter to grow up talking like you!”

“My daughter!Mydaughter!”

“That’s what I said.”

“Uggggh!” She began to round his table, prepping to physically snatch the baby. So he jumped to his feet and ran away, rounding out the other side.

“Gautam, don’t play games with me, I am telling you…”

“Then agree to come home with us.”

“No!” She chased him. He ran around, holding MM tight so that she wasn’t jostled. He glanced down and she was happily enjoying the ride. He grinned. When he looked up, Maya was barreling straight towards him, murder written all over her face. He changed tracks and swooped to the other side just as her hand reached out to claw his back. It cut air behind him.

“Gautam!!!”

“Agree first.”

“Ouch!” She ran into the edge of his table, doubling over. “Aaah!” She rubbed at her hip.

“M! You crazy…” He rushed to secure MM in her carrier and went straight to her. But before he could touch her, she was whizzing past him, her hand reaching for the carrier and walking it out of his office. He grunted, stumbling back to his desk.

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Gautam waited in the driver’s seat, adjusting and readjusting the rear view mirror, a borrowed cap hiding his face. The Uber was a manual, the gear stick so tight it put his trucks to shame. The driver hid behind one of the trees, his pocket fat with wads of…what did Maya call them?Crisp, green, Gandhi Bapus.

“Ek minute, Bhaiya,” her tinkling voice sounded as she gently set MM’s carrier in the seat behind him, then stuffed the baby bag and herself in. “Let’s go.”

He put the car in gear and turned the wheel onto the street.

“You are from Mumbai only?” She asked, her running mouth not finding rest even in distress. He nodded.

“Me too. Born and brought up. Look what they have done to Mumbai. When we were kids, the footpaths actually looked like footpaths, naa?”

He nodded.

“Now toh kids can’t even take their cycles outside their buildings. I used to take my cycle and go to tuitions all the time. Me and all my friends. We used to race up and down on Altamount Road. Now after the Ambanis have built their Antilla, the security won’t even let you sniff the flowers in that area. Is your Uber from town or suburbs?”

He missed the turn to his flat and Maya sat up — “Hey, you missed that turn…” Her head craned between the two front seats until she was peering into his profile. “Get out of here, Gautam! What the fu… are you doing?”

“Taking you home.”

“I am not coming to your home.”

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