Page 65 of Made in Mumbai

“What does that have to…” Gautam panned his eyes around her house. It ended even before it began.

“Like a fool I wore that form-fitting dress flaunting my baby bump. All bad omens came flying like some evil eye…” she continued ranting. But his eyes were stuck on her tiny home. It was kept neat and tidy, her things the only burst of colour. But the large patches of seepage were darkening her walls, even without any rain. What must have this place been like during monsoon?

“Now you wait here until he goes away…” she finished, marched across him and towards her window. Even pregnant, she braced one knee on the granite seating of the window and leaned out. Thank god for the grill outside. Gautam strode behind her and followed her line of sight.

“Get down!” She screamed, pushing his head down just as a massive giant of a man strode out of the building wing. Gautam peeked over the ledge as the man turned and gave Maya a death glare. He began to rise but she whacked him over the head.

“Why are you hitting me?” He poked.

“Stay down or I will hang you out of here. Don’t make this worse,” she muttered through closed lips. Gautam seethed. He kept poking her and she kept kicking him. It was crazy, hiding in her one-room flat, waiting for her landlord to scuttle away.

“Is he gone or what?” Gautam asked, keeping his head tucked.

“He went two minutes ago only,” her amused sputter sounded. He craned his neck and she schooled her laughter. He glared.

“What?” She stuck her tongue out. “It became a little fun after one point.”

Gautam pushed up to his full height — “Instead of resting you are playing hide and seek here and like a fool I came to check on you…”

“Go now, he is gone…”

“Now you are also coming with me,” he cut her off.

“What?”

“It is clear your landlord doesn’t want a single pregnant woman with male friends living here. And he is intimidating you. Are you still going to stay here?”

“Yeah, planning to sneak in every night once the giant goes to sleep,” she rolled her eyes, her top bun waving with her head. If he took an objective second to look at her, she looked cute in her loose baby blue T-shirt and a pair of white linen pants. No makeup, some crazy cow print hair tie in her messed up bun, eyes big and pretty as they waited for him to go. Stupid, if she thought he would leave her unprotected with a man like that on the prowl.

“Save all your jokes for when we are out of here,” he pulled her bicep away from the window she was too close to. “Help me pack up.”

“Gautam,” she clutched his wrist that held onto her arm, her voice serious now. She smiled — “Thanks. But I have it figured out. I spoke to my only bachelor friend from college and she has a flat where her roommate just vacated. I am shifting there.”

He nodded. “Ok. Let me help you then. I’ll pack and drop you off today itself. Where does she live?”

“Peddar Road.”

“Excuse me?”

“Peddar Road,” she kicked her toe, trying to act nonchalant when she was anything but.

“Ok,” he put things into perspective. “You are shifting to South Bombay. And how do you plan to come to work every day?”

“Train,” she gave him that incredulous look.No way.He had seen enough of the crowd in Mumbai locals at all times of the day to know that Maya wasn’t safe in that madness, least of all with that pregnancy. The people weren’t a problem, never a problem. But theamountof people gave him tiny heart attacks on her clumsy, pregnant behalf.

“There is a bachelor friend of yours living just a few lanes away with two extra rooms,” he reasoned. “You are shifting in with him for now.”

“You mean you?”

“Who else?”

“No, Gautam…”

“Who are you scared of?”

Bullseye.Her nose flared. He watched amused as Maya turned into the firecracker M and pointed a bright fingernail right into his chest — “Listen, I am not scared of anyone or their father. I just don’t want to become a burden on you. Even for a few days. I will be apartment hunting but I wouldn’t want to invade into my boss’s personal space… and now with the baby and everything…”

“I am the other party and I get to rebut now — I do not live in that flat for more than 8 hours a day. I come home to sleep and eat dinner. Sometimes not even that. So it is all yours. Stay as long as you need, search for a new house and I will help you move again. Now come on. If I am here by the time your landlord returns, you might discover that you are not the only one who has beaten people up.”

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