Page 44 of Made in Mumbai

“Oh, he is here,” her mother called out. “Viren, it’s Maya.”

“Mom, put me on speaker please… hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Maya. What’s going on? You, and early calls to us?”

“Yeah…” she chuckled, sprinkling some water on the pan to check its temperature. “I am pregnant.”

Silence.

She set a ladle-full of batter on the pan and circled it around until she had the right thickness. Ok, she couldn’t go any thinner than this. Her dosas broke otherwise. So she had made herself like thicker dosas.

“Hello?” She called into her phone. “Are you both there?”

“Is it… Hem’s?” Her mother stuttered.

“Yes.”

She should have been appalled her mother had to ask, but Maya had stopped feeling a lot of emotions where her parents were concerned.

“And is he taking you back?” Her father asked.

Enraged? No, she had conditioned herself to take their words like they were supposed to be taken — with a quintal of salt.

“No, we are not getting back together. He does not want it.”

“Then? Are you getting an abortion?”

See? Still no rage. Maya dropped some ghee around her dosa and inhaled the beautiful fragrance of ghee and fermented batter. It created its own symphony.

“Maya?”

“Yes? I mean, no. I am not.”

“Then who will keep it?” Her mother gasped. Now it was beginning to settle in, the panic. Not for her, but for the society. Maya Kotak and single mother? If she was lucky they would tell her to change her surname to save some face. No, but then she would have to scout a new surname. And change it on all her documents. That was a chore. No. Not doing it again.

“You cannot keep it, Maya!” Her mother gasped.

“I will keep it. I just called to let you both know.”

“And how will you manage it?” Her father thundered. “You can barely take care of yourself! Look at that flat you are living in! I told you to take alimony from Hem and look where your pride has got you! We have good family money, does not mean you blow it all on your madness. Now have you spoken to Hem about maintenance for the child at least?”

“No maintenance!” Her mother cut in. “You are getting back with him. That’s it. No more questions. I am calling his mother and telling her to talk to him…”

“His mother is in Dubai and does not care,” Maya laughed, folding her dosa and rolling it into a perfect cylinder. Wow, not bad for a stressy conversation.

“She is with husband number four,” her father added, making her point for her.

“So what then? You will be a single mom?” Her mother ranted. “That’s not how you live, Maya,” her voice suddenly softened. “You don’t know what kind of life that is. Even with your father in the picture I have been a single mom to you most days…”

She and her father snorted together.

“Imagine doing it all alone, without any support.”

“I am not killing the baby.”

“Stop being melodramatic.”

“I can’t not be! I took a day, if you want to know. I thought, thought very hard. And contrary to what you both think that I am a complete failure, I know where I must be responsible and I make sure to pull that responsibility. I will pull this too.”

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