Unmarriageable(89)

‘Thanks. My sister Qitty makes these for fun. How long have you been playing the sitar?’

‘A year,’ Juju said. ‘I’m not very good.’

‘I thought you were playing beautifully.’

‘Was I? I do try to practise every day. I wanted to learn the guitar, but my brother said first sitar and then the guitar, and I thought, why not listen to him for once?’

‘How very kind of you!’ Darsee smiled indulgently at Juju.

Alys looked from brother to sister and concluded that Darsee was most definitely not the envious sibling Wickaam had branded him.

‘You live in Lahore, right?’ Darsee said, turning to Nisar and Nona.

Alys braced herself for his grimace at the answer, Jamshed Colony. Instead, Darsee mentioned a dhaba in Jamshed Colony that made the best chicken karahi in town.

‘Don’t tell our cook that, though,’ Darsee said. ‘Hussein is quite sensitive.’

‘We’ll try not to,’ Nona joked. ‘In fact, that dhaba is one of the reasons we’re reluctant to move from Jamshed Colony. We’ve been living there forever. I’m happy with the schools and my children are well settled, and to dislocate them for a bigger house in a more prestigious area makes little sense.’

‘I understand,’ Darsee said. ‘It’s hard to let go of geography. Although – and I’ve told Alys this several times – I believe people like her and me have an advantage having grown up for a time period without any set roots, and so we are quite comfortable letting go of places. We’re the sort of people who believe home is where you make it, and borders are ridiculous, and airports are the most harmonious places on earth.’

Alys smiled. ‘You make the nomad’s lifestyle sound so ideal, but depending on your personality, it can be really hard to get up and move, physically as well as emotionally.’

‘True,’ Darsee said. ‘What are you doing in Lahore? Is your family here too?’

Alys stared at him. He was asking about her family? With such congeniality?

‘My family is in Dilipabad, except for my sister Lady, who’s visiting a friend in Karachi. I’m here to tour Lahore with my uncle and aunt.’

‘Hoping to get tickets to the Naseeruddin Shah–Ratna Pathak play in town,’ Nisar said. ‘I had a friend who was supposed to purchase them, but by the time he got around to it, they were all pretty much gone.’

‘Ismat Apa Kay Naam?’ Darsee asked. ‘In the Name of Ismat Apa?’

Nisar nodded.

‘We’re going to see that tomorrow evening,’ Darsee said. ‘Are you free? Were you looking for three tickets?’

‘Four,’ Nona said. ‘Me, Alys, Nisar, and our nephew, Babur.’

Darsee phoned someone named Pacman to ask if four more tickets for the play could be arranged. He was put on hold for a moment before being told yes. Darsee refused to take ticket money from Nisar. Next time it could be Nisar’s treat, he said. Alys blinked. When exactly had Darsee learnt good manners? And why was he going out of his way for them? Alys avoided Nona’s glance: this is the rogue who robbed Wickaam of his inheritance?

‘Alys,’ Darsee said, ‘Bungles and party are coming to the play tomorrow too.’

Alys nodded as casually as she could. She turned all her attention to the maid rolling in a tea trolley with silver spoons resting on bone-china platters holding potato cutlets, chicken sandwiches, savory dahi baray, and the rose garden cake, which, it turned out, had not been ordered for a special occasion but because Juju was craving it.

‘Daane daane pe likha hai khane wale ka naam,’ Nona said, grandly reciting the proverb – on every grain is written the eater’s name – and she laughed as she took a sliver of her very own concoction. Juju rose to serve everyone tea and snacks.

How well mannered Juju was, Alys thought, as she accepted a delicate bowl and helped herself to the dahi baray, topping it with deep-fried crackers and fresh chopped coriander. After one bite, Alys declared the mashed white-lentil balls in cumin yoghurt sauce superb.

‘I have a friend Sherry who is an excellent cook,’ Alys said. ‘But your cook would give her a run for her money.’

‘Are you talking about the Sherry who recently married Farhat Kaleen, my cousin Annie’s doctor?’ Juju asked.

Alys nodded. She wondered how ridiculous Kaleen had been in front of Juju.

‘I met Sherry at my aunt Beena’s house. Sherry is so good-natured and kind.’

Alys was delighted to hear the compliments.

‘And Dr Kaleen is so nice too,’ Juju said. ‘He takes such good care of Annie. A friend of mine tore his ACL, and he also sings Dr Kaleen’s praises.’

Alys was pleased to see that Juju Darsee, far from being stuck up, instead shared Jena’s propensity for finding good in everyone. The thought of Jena back in Dilipabad saddened Alys. She glanced at Darsee. He looked at ease, perhaps because he was home. But perhaps this persona was the real him, and that other persona, which had earned him the nickname Dracula, was someone else; he sounded nice and friendly, and certainly not like some busybody who would interfere in his friend’s life. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

Darsee and Nona were talking about the paintings above the sofa sets. Nona admired both the geometric abstract and the women in the desert. She was familiar with the artists, she told Darsee, and she congratulated him on buying art that spoke to him.