Page 61 of Made in Mumbai

Maya glanced at the glass panel of the room looking outside. Gautam was there, his navy suit moving in and out of her line of sight. He glanced at his watch, then back at the alley. Maybe it was later than she had thought. Maya reached behind to get her clutch to check the time when Dr. Rekha walked in.

“How are you feeling now?” She caressed her arm, checking the monitor and her reports. Her motherly touch soothed her, but also broke her. Maya burst into a sob, finally, finally able to let go.

“Please tell me it is ok…” she cried. “Please, Rekha Aunty, please.”

“Shh, shhh,” she glanced down sternly. “Chup.”

Maya hiccuped.

“First stop crying. Everything is fine. The baby is holding tight, see?” She showed her the sonogram. “You have been getting these cramps today because your womb is expanding. It is the round ligament around here that expands and may sometimes cause pain. Yours happen to be unbearable. Or perhaps it’s your dramatic personality,” she chuckled. Her wise eyes coupled with that smile put Maya at ease. She sighed, letting out a deep breath through her nose.

“So I panicked for no reason?” She panted through her grin.

“I heard a police officer escorted you here?”

“Yeah,” she laughed now, “funny story, he thought my boss was my husband and…” her head turned to call Gautam in. But he wasn’t there. “What time is it, Aunty?” She asked, her gaze searching for him.

“Just past 3.”

“Hmm mm…”

It was late. He was gone. Of course he was gone. It was ok. Really. He had done more than his fair share, bringing her here, waiting outside all night, being silently bored. It couldn’t be easy being alone and bored in a hospital alley at night. It was ok if he had left. She was ok. Her baby was ok.

Then why didn’t it feel so ok?

2034 Gundee Awards 2.0

October, 2034

Ok, enough. I would like to borrow the mic from your favourite host who has spun a nice, fluffy but incorrect yarn. For starters, I did not leave her at the hospital. I stepped out for a few minutes.

*Holding Maya’s head away from the mic*

Let me start by clarifying that I was not looking at her with impassiveness, scowls or any other words she used to describe me through her ‘story.’ I was shocked to meet her again after so many years, and for those of you who know Maya, know that she is a bit much… sunshine to take in. One is forgiven a couple of squints to adjust.

Now, as I was saying, I stepped out of the hospital to take a breather. I had never had a pregnant woman in my car, much less one that was in so much pain. My adrenaline from that ride was still pumping. And with the way she was on the verge of tears all through her tests… a man can only take so much…

II: GAUTAM’S JOURNEY

11. Uss Mod Se Shuru Karein, Phir Yeh Zindagi

Gautam doubled over, taking a deep breath. The night was cool around him, the hospital parking empty. He took three more deep breaths, something settling inside him. She was laughing when he had left her with her doctor. That meant everything was ok.

He clutched his knees tight, breathing slow and deep, thinking about the last three hours that had been helpless for him. A test of his patience. Getting her to the hospital had been the easy part, standing there clueless as she was helped in and out of testing rooms was… weird.Should he stay, should he leave?But how could he leave? There was nobody to stay there with her in case she needed something. Her parents weren’t here, her ex… the thought of that spineless man made his blood boil.

He straightened, thinking about her finally laughing in that room upstairs. He huffed out into the night. His neck muscles loosened. His back relaxed. He turned to go back in but then remembered her last words before they had zoomed into the hospital gates. And Gautam broke into a jog to where his car was parked. The Police Havaldar, true to his word, had taken care of it and left the keys with the watchman.

This was what Gautam had initially liked about Mumbai. Its sheer ability to stand with you in time of need.

The Havaldar had pestered him for a nice, fat bribe out there, but the moment they needed some help, he was the first to escort them. Gautam had seen heavy rains in this city where locals set up stalls outside their buildings to offer tea and biscuits to whoever was walking home. He had seen flash floods where young boys from their slums came out to ferry people across highly flooded areas on their backs. He had seen a serial set of local train blasts here where taxis, rickshaws, every empty vehicle around had activated and was driving people free of cost so that everybody was away from the train stations. He had seen it all, and yet, every time it surprised him and humbled him and made him proud that he had chosen this city to live in. Now all he needed to do was become a part of its fabric.

He thanked the watchman and tipped him, then opened his car door to search for her precious cake. And there it was, neatly placed on the seat that she had vacated. Even in pain, the company pain-in-the-ass had set her cake safely. He smirked, grabbing it and locking up the car.

He climbed the steps two at a time, a spring in him that made him eager to see her reaction when he presented her with this… what did she call it? Pool of goodness. Where did she get these descriptions? Some day, if he was brave enough, he would get into her head and see how it worked. Nothing had changed about her in that regard. If anything, her eccentricities had escalated. But so had everything else about her.

Not only was she brilliant at what she did as a Textile Designer, but she also had natural flair as a Manager. Something he refrained from telling her or she would sit on a hunger strike outside his office until he made her one. He wouldn’t put anything past this girl.

Gautam knocked on the door.

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