One Indian Girl(36)

Within a few minutes he was asleep. I, on the other hand, kept awake all night, wondering what I would do if the one man who loved me decided to leave me.



Since I hadn’t slept I got out of bed at 5 a.m. I spent the next hour making breakfast. I made pancakes, Debu’s favourite. I also cut fruit, boiled some eggs and made toast. I wondered why I was doing this. Was it because I couldn’t sleep? Or did I want to calm Debu down? Or to show I could be domestic enough to be a good mother? Or did I want to prove that I could be sweet and innocent, which probably translates into docile and submissive?

I wanted Debu to wake up and be happy. I wanted it more than the China deal or a bonus or anything else. I scolded myself for feeling that way, but I couldn’t help it. His words about me not being potential mother material had shaken me up.

Wake up, Debu, eat the pancakes and please tell me I am lovable.

He entered the living room at 6.45. I had already laid out the plates and placed a jug filled with orange juice on the table. I switched on the electric hobs and put a saucepan on it.

‘Wow,’ he said, rubbing his eyes.

‘Good morning,’ I said in my most cheerful voice.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Making pancakes. You love them, remember? You want them with maple syrup or honey?’

‘Maple syrup. Is it the weekend?’ he said in a puzzled voice as he dragged a dining chair out to sit.

‘No, Wednesday. I just thought I would cook us something special.’

On typical weekdays we would gobble down cereal and milk and rush out of the house.

I put a plate of blueberries, raspberries and blackberries in front of Debu.

‘Fancy,’ he said.

‘Berries are good for you. Start with this while the pancakes get cooked.’

He waved his hands.

‘Don’t you have to go to work?’ he said.

‘I do.’

‘You had an important meeting in the morning, right?’

‘Yeah. I will have breakfast with you and then get ready.’

The smell of buttery dough filled the living room. The pancakes turned golden-brown. I arranged two of them on a plate, drizzled maple syrup on them. I cut a banana into thin slices and arranged them around the pancakes.

‘How about you?’ Debu said as I gave him his plate.

‘I am making more,’ I said.

Does he think I am less hardened now? I wondered. He ate in silence, perhaps wondering if this was a dream. I made my pancakes and sat in front of him.

‘They are delicious,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’

‘I should say thank you. You put in so much effort. What time did you wake up to make all this?’

‘Five. Just an hour earlier,’ I lied. I hadn’t slept at all.

‘You do look tired.’

‘It’s okay. I will be fine.’ I cut a piece of pancake.

‘Radhika, I want to say something,’ Debu said.

I know you will say sorry. It is okay, I said to myself. He must feel guilty now after he saw how much I care for him.

‘What?’

‘This is really sweet.’

‘Thanks. So are you. A sweet gesture for my sweet boyfriend.’

‘Thank you, Radhika. This is really sweet but. . .’

‘But what?’

‘Today you are making breakfast like this. This is awesome. But I am not happy.’

‘Not happy about what, baby?’

‘Us.’

‘Why? Is this about last night? We were both angry,’ I said. I found it difficult to swallow the slice of banana in my mouth.

‘It’s not just about yesterday or about being angry. I have been thinking about it for many days. Weeks, actually.’

‘Really? And you didn’t discuss it with me?’ I said. I felt a little stupid about cooking all morning.

‘There is nothing to discuss. I know I am not happy.’

‘You are bored of me?’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘So?’

‘I am being calm, okay? But I have an image of the wife I want. The mother of the kids I want. I am not judging you, but I think I want a housewife.’

‘What?’ I said. My fork almost fell out of my hands.

‘It’s what I have seen growing up. I go to work, make the money. Wife takes care of the home. Simple needs, happy family.’

‘What are you talking about, Debu? Didn’t you say women could achieve anything today? Didn’t you encourage me when I had to apply for distressed debt?’

‘I did. I still admire you. I respect all women who achieve big things. I think it is great. . .’

‘But you can’t be with them?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe I could. But you made me think about marriage and I did. I visualized a future home. I would like my wife to be there for me and my kids.’

‘And I can’t be that?’

‘Will you leave your job?’

‘Why, Debu? Why do I have to leave it? I like it. It’s rewarding and fulfilling to me.’

‘What about the home?’

‘What about the home? You are going to work too, right? Why can’t I?’

‘Oh, so you want to work and I stay at home?’