American Born Indian - Part 2
Hey guys! Back again with another part of American Born Indian. Here, we see Jay's interaction with Ruchi Singh grow as he gets to understand her and her family better… but will his help make things better, or worse?
Chapter 6
Caught In The Act
“This is rather… unfortunate.” Jaya Ma’am taps the oak wood table, then sits back in her chair and laces her fingers. “I haven’t encountered this—shall we say—situation before.”
She looks at me. “Jay Sharma, is it?”
I nod.
“Well, I hope you learned your lesson. I must confess, I was rather surprised someone truly had the nerve to bring a phone into the classroom.”
“With all due respect, Ma’am, I just happened to bring a phone to school every day, back in—“
“America, yes. However, that is not how it works here. Discipline is a must. And that includes phones and other electronics staying at home until you’re in grade 11. Are we clear?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry for the intrusion, Jaya Ma’am.” Shalini Ma’am smiles charmingly, before shooting a glare at me. “We know you’re very busy on the first day, but this was an offence I simply couldn’t ignore!”
“All the more to understand, Shalini Ma’am. Do not worry. I’m sure that this young man will not repeat it again.” Jaya Ma’am nods in my direction. “Good luck. And you’re new to this country, so you’re going to need it.”
Shalini Ma’am takes me back to class so I can fetch my lunchbag and head downstairs. When I enter the indoor quadrangle, which serves as a basketball court and the assembly area, I see Aravind sitting nearby on a stone bench.
Dodging bright orange balls and running students, I head to him.
“You survived!” He grins. And—god, the smile! How handsome is he? For a second, I stand still, totally mesmerised, but then I blink back lightning bolts and stars.
“Well, Jaya Ma’am was alright. But Shalini Ma’am looked like she was about to murder me!” I sit next to him.
“That’s how she usually is.” Aravind pops an apple slice into his mouth. “She’s tough, and if you get on her bad side, you’re done for.”
I chuckle. “Good advice.”
We watch as a tiny sixth grader shoots a three-pointer from the free-throw line. A cheer rises from his teammates.
“You know, you actually survived a trip to the principal’s office on the first day, right?” Aravind looks at me. “That’s a close call there.”
“And I’ve got six more periods left.” I sigh and get up. “Let’s hope they all go well.”
Chapter 7
Meeting The Singhs
I get off the bus when it stops in front of the gate. Whew. First day of school, and I managed to survive. But Mom’s not gonna be happy about the whole situation with the principal. I’ll break that news to her later, though.
Nani’s waiting for me. She straightens her glasses and looks me up and down again.
“Looks like my grandson had a fine day at school,” she appraises.
Ruchi snorts. “Are you sure about that, Ajji?”
I glare at her. “Really?”
Nani’s already latched on. “What? Did someone hurt him?”
I sigh. “I got in trouble with the principal because of my cell phone.”
She slaps her forehead. “Arey, bhagwan! We forgot to tell you those aren’t allowed. I hoped Nitara would remind you, but with her new job and all…”
“It’s fine; I was off the hook with a warning.” I walk up the driveway with Nani and Ruchi in tow.
When we reach the lift to our building, Nani tugs at Ruchi’s sleeve. “Come over with your parents; it’s time Nitara and Chanchal meet again.”
“Ammi’s preparing a fine dinner after you told her Aunty and Jay have come. She wants you guys to eat with us,” Ruchi says.
“Then we’ll be there. By the way, dear, how’s Aravind?”
“Better than the last time you saw him.”
I perk up. “How do you know Aravind, Nani?”
The lift stops at our floor. Ruchi goes up, while Nani and I step out.
“He used to come here to play with Ruchi when they were friends. But the past few years have been a painful time for him and his family, so he has grown distant and withdrawn since.” She casts me a sideways glance. “Did you meet him?”
“He sits next to me and our class teacher assigned him to help me throughout the school year. He’s really nice, but yeah, pretty quiet.” I stare straight ahead at the door, while Nani fumbles with her keys. Don’t want her to see my pink cheeks.
The door unlocks, and I drop my bag on the couch. Nani hobbles to the kitchen to make some tea.
“Beta, be kind to him. Ruchi has gotten into bad company, from the looks of it, and he has no other friends.”
“I will, Nani.”
“Have you seen those girls? So distasteful! And poor Ruchi—she hates it, and everyone knows such a sensible girl should not be with such people.”
“Why is she still hanging out with them?” I sit down at the dining table and prop open my homework—nothing but preparation of scads of similar-looking notebooks.
Nani sighs. “Her parents are extremely protective of her; the minute they found out those girls invited her to join them, they’ve been forcing her to stay in the group for her safety. They dislike it if she hangs around with boys.”
Yikes. From what I can tell, Ruchi’s folks may be of the strict, orthodox kind Mom doesn’t like.
“Am I coming with you guys to Ruchi’s house?” I ask.
Nani sets a cup of elaichi tea in front of me. “Of course. It’s a special occasion. You must be there.”
At the door, Mom is greeted with a hug from a plump woman dressed in a pink kurti and long brown hair. This is Chanchal Aunty, Ruchi’s mother.
“It has been so long, Nitara,” she says.
“When was the last time we saw each other?” Mom asks, as we head inside. She’s truly brimming with joy. Chanchal Aunty has been her best friend since middle school, and they haven’t seen each other in years.
“I think it was before you and Rushil left for America. Yes! That was the time. I was at the airport to drop you guys off.”
A slim man wearing spectacles and a beige kurta joins us.
“My husband,” Chanchal Aunty says. “Rachit, this is Nitara, and her son, Jay.”
I bend down and touch his feet, as well as Aunty’s. I see Rachit Uncle nod his head in approval. Yep, they’re definitely the strict kind.
“Your son looks just like his father,” I hear Chanchal Aunty whisper to Mom.
A little boy runs over. He’s about nine or ten, wearing a kurta like Uncle’s. He gives us a gap-toothed grin.
“That’s my brother, Charan. But we call him Charu,” Ruchi says, striding in after him. She’s wearing a red lehenga embroidered with gold designs.
“Why wasn’t he on the bus today?” I ask.
“My school opens tomorrow. I’m in fourth grade!” Charan says.
We sit down on the couch, and I take a moment to look around. The living room has all the typical things, but the showcase housing the TV and souvenirs is surrounded by shelves, filled with scads and scads of books.
Chanchal Aunty notices me looking at the numerous titles. “My husband owns one of the oldest bookstores in Bengaluru. This is only but a small collection.”
My eyes go wide. “Wow!”
“The bookstore has been in my family for generations. It is this business I inherited when my father retired, and once Charan is of age, he too will run the store,” Rachit Uncle explains.
I frown. Something feels really off about what he said. It’s like he’s trying to push someone down. I look at Ruchi, whose face falls ever-so-slightly when Uncle mentions Charu’s inheritance.
But before I can figure out anything, she whispers something in her father’s ear, who looks at me, then nods.
“Jay, I suspect you shall be rather bored by all the adult talk. Ruchi and Charan are going to set up a Monopoly game. Would you like to join them?”
I shrug. “Sure.” I follow Ruchi down the hallway into her shared bedroom with Charu. She digs out a Monopoly Deluxe set from one of the cupboards embedded in the wall.
“No surprise there,” I say, looking at the lone bookshelf covering an entire wall below the loft.
Charu points around. “One side is Ruchi Didi’s. Another side is mine. We both share the same bed and the same cupboards. We have separate study desks over there. And Ruchi’s violin case is next to my cricket set.”
I look at Ruchi, who’s setting up the board. “You play violin?”
“Classical. And I hate it.”
An awkward silence. I say, meekly, “Your dad’s nice. So’s your mom.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I heard they’re pretty strict, though.”
“They are.”
“How come?”
Charu silently watches the tennis match of questions and answers.
“It’s ‘cause I’m a girl.” She tosses the die to Charu. “Youngest go first, kid.”
“What do you mean, you’re a girl?” I ask.
Ruchi glares. “Well, I am a girl, idiot. Can’t you see that?”
Charu stifles a laugh as he counts his money and gives it to me, the banker.
“I know. I mean, what’s that got to do with anything?” I place the notes neatly in the stand.
She sighs. “Coming from a place like America, land of the free, I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Uh, I think I might.” I toss the die again.
“Have you heard of gender discrimination, then?”
Piccadilly Street. I pick up the card. “Yeah?”
“Well, believe it or not, that’s what goes on in my family. I’m not allowed to be who I am because it’s not proper.” Ruchi spits the word proper out, like it’s a bad stick of chewing gum.
I wince. Sounds harsh.
“I go to school and play a musical instrument. And read. That’s about it. I want to do other stuff, but I can’t.” She lands on Mayfair.
I pull out the card. “No offence, but… your dad owns a bookstore, right? He reads a lot. And I’m pretty sure he’s come across books with feminism or strong independent girls. Why doesn’t he let you be like them?”
Silence. This time, it’s shocking. Charu stares at me, eyes wide. I’ve definitely said something wrong this time, and may have disrespected Rachit Uncle too.
Except Ruchi doesn’t say anything. She fiddles with a loose string on her lehenga. Then turns to her brother.
“Charu, go and get some popcorn from the fridge, no? I think Ammi has a spare packet.”
When he leaves, Ruchi says in a low voice, “You’re right. But the thing about feminist books is this: those girls face hardships and problems. Accidents and uncomfortable situations. I think my father just focuses on those negative things. He doesn’t pay attention to the determination and bravery. Or the grit. He’s sheltered me because he doesn’t want me to face these problems.”
She sighs. “I get that he wants to keep me safe. But he can’t do that forever. He needs to know I can take care of myself. I’m not totally clueless, you know? Not like Ojaswi and her group of way-too-girly girls.”
In the kitchen, the kernels start to pop. We hear Chanchal Aunty get up and help Charu. Ruchi casts a wary glance towards the bedroom door.
“But still.” I look at her shiny red and gold bangles. “It’s wrong. Nobody should be forced to be someone they’re not. And you know it. Why aren’t you doing something about it?”
Ruchi grits her teeth. “Why don’t you get it? It’s not something inclusive and accepting—like your Gay/Straight Alliance thing at your old school.”
I jerk back. “How do you—“
“That bracelet speaks a lot more than you realise.”
Sheesh. She notices a lot. I stare down at my wrist, the enamel pride flag glinting off the white light.
“We don’t call it a Gay/Straight Alliance,” I mumble. “It’s a Pride Club. ‘Cause it’s not only made of gay and straight people, you know.”
“Whatever it is, it probably advocates stuff no one in my family cares about. Same thing for women’s rights. I can’t do anything about it. So shut up about your preachy ideals.” Her voice had an annoyed edge to it.
I go back to stacking money. But not before a thought occurs to me.
“You say you can’t do anything. But I see you. You hate being friends with girls who you have nothing in common with. And you and Aravind have history—and a good one at that, so you want to be friends with him again. And you want to break free from being a faker. You have the guts to do it. So what’s holding you back?”
Ruchi goes quiet. She looks at me steadily, deep brown eyes studying my face. She knows I mean every word, every question. It’s not rhetorical anymore.
She opens her mouth to say something, but then Charu brings the bowl of cheese popcorn, and the conversation ends then and there, continuing the Monopoly game.
Chapter 8
Payback Time
I get on the bus and sit in the second-to-last seat. I don’t have my phone; otherwise music would’ve been blasting in my ears the entire thirty minutes. Too bad Principal Ma’am stopped me from bringing it anymore.
“Yo, got room for one more?”
I look up as the bus starts and moves to the next apartment. Ruchi stands next to my seat.
A bunch of seventh graders snicker. One of them nudges the other and whispers something to him, and they collapse into more laughter.
Ruchi stomps over to them. “I heard that.” She gives them a death stare that would’ve rivalled Darth Vader’s. The kid and his friend shrink in their seats. Ruchi walks back over to me.
“Hurry, or I’m going to fall this sec.”
I scooch over and she plops in beside me, bag on her lap.
“Ignore those idiots. Vijay and Ayaan.” She rolls her eyes. “They think everything’s a stupid joke.”
I still look at her. She sighs in exasperation.
“Yes, I’ve thought about what you said. And here’s my answer: I don’t need that kind of drama, okay?”
I shrug. “It’s your decision.”
As the bus moves steadily down the road, we settle into a comfortable silence. Things seem a lot better between us since yesterday, if she’s bothered to sit with me.
“What’s your favourite music?” I ask.
“Well, I like OneRepublic a lot,” she says.
I almost bolt out of my seat. “No way!”
Ruchi’s face glows. “Wait, you like 1R too?”
“Heck yeah! I’ve never met anyone else who’s their fan!”
“I know they’re an older band, but they’re just so awesome!”
I laugh. And then she laughs. And soon we’re both laughing so hard our stomachs hurt.
Ruchi wipes tears from her eyes. “Who’s your favourite?”
“Zach Filkins, dude. His guitar riffs—“
“Absolutely amazing.”
“Who do you like?”
“Eddie Fisher. I wanna play the drums like him.”
I go quiet.
“Yeah.” She sighs. “Another thing my parents won’t let me do.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you can always come over. I don’t have a drum set, but I do have an acoustic and an electric guitar. Maybe we can do a jam session,” I offer.
She smiles thinly. “Thanks.”
After a while, I see the school nearing our view.
“I have a question,” Ruchi says. “Are you actually gay?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool, cool.” But she has a mischievous grin on her face.
“What?” But I think I know.
“I totally get why you were talking to Aravind now.”
Crap! I turn away to hide the blush in my cheeks.
Ruchi’s still grinning. “Like, I thought that first you guys just became friends, but then I guess you started becoming buddy-buddy with him because you like him, so it makes sense. Total Nick and Charlie. Typical.”
I groan and put my head in my hands. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
She winks. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
Aravind watches Ruchi and me as we enter the classroom, laughing and talking. And so does Ojaswi.
She walks over and smirks. “Sorry to interrupt your flirting, Ruchi.” The other girls giggle around her.
Is Ruchi going to drop her eyes and never look in my direction again? Or will she actually do something this time? Whatever it is, it seems like yesterday’s words got to her.
Ruchi rolls her eyes. “Well, stop trying, Ojaswi.” She leans in. “He’s not interested.”
As I slide into my seat, everyone goes ‘ooooh’ and Aravind casts me a nervous glance.
“What exactly happened?” He asks me.
I shrug. “Ruchi’s just being Ruchi, and she loves it.”
She does. In front of us, the girl tension escalates.
“What did you say?” Ojaswi glares.
“I said, your flirting can’t get you guys. So, how about trying a different approach?” Ruchi counters, unafraid.
Ojaswi opens her mouth to say something, but then thinks of a better answer. She smiles silkily.
“You lose your brain over the weekend and insulting me? I’m your best friend.”
Ruchi blinks, then bursts out laughing. Tears roll down her cheeks, and she stumbles to our table.
“Ruchi,” Aravind whispers. “Are you okay?”
She stops laughing. Winks at him. Turns back to Ojaswi. She’s still grinning.
“Sorry, I find that hilarious, because I just realised—you’re not my best friend. You’re my worst enemy.”
The entire class goes quiet. Aravind’s eyes brighten. I beam like we won the Super Bowl.
Payback time served. And Ojaswi deserved it.
In snacks, Aravind and I sit in the same spot, on the bench, near the basketball court. We eat and watch Ojaswi rant about Ruchi’s ‘betrayal’ to her other girlfriends. It’s a pretty stormy sight. And a satisfying one.
“I got her good, didn’t I?”
Our heads snap up. Ruchi stands over us, holding her lunchbag.
“Can I join you guys?”
Aravind and I exchange glances. We smile.
“Welcome back,” Aravind says, getting up and shaking her hand.
“Don’t forget,” I say. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”
Chapter 9
Tensions Flare
“I’m going to do it,” Ruchi says with resolve. “I have to.”
Aravind’s folding his jacket and keeping it in his bag when he freezes. Ruchi’s statement has him shook.
I’m trying to finish last-minute math homework. But I know what she’s talking about.
“But how?” I ask. “Is there a plan, or are you just going to tell your parents you’re done being pushed around?”
“That’s the plan.” She crosses her arms. “No sugarcoating. No beating around the bush. I’m directly dropping the words.”
Aravind sits back down. “Ruch, I’ve known your parents for years. Won’t they be mad?”
“For demanding my right to be me? It’s not illegal, as far as I’m concerned,” She huffs.
I give a relieved sigh as I put my notebook away. “Finally, Shalini Ma’am won’t kill me for once.”
Aravind’s glances dart from me to Ruchi. “I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe…” He sighs. “I can’t say it.”
“I can take it,” Ruchi insists. “Whatever you got to say, I can take it.”
He winces. “It’s more towards Jay, but…”
I look at him. “What?”
“Might be, I think you went kind of overboard with the talk about feminism.”
Ruchi stares at me, like she wants to apologise and admit that’s her fault, but she also wants to agree with Aravind. And she’s giving me the hidden look that my crush just crushed me.
Aravind notices that look—in a backfired way. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh, Jay. But… it’s what I think it is from the conversation.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I didn't mean to rush you, Ruchi. Maybe you have to wait. Tell them some other time, perhaps?”
Ruchi shakes her head. “Too late. I’m doing it tonight.”
Nani, Mom and I are having dinner when we hear something slam above us. And I know well enough who it is.
“I hope everything’s alright with Chanchal and her family,” Mom says, looking up worriedly.
“I sense something different.” Nani seems thoughtful.
I shrug offhandedly, trying not to show that I’m secretly freaking out about Ruchi. “I think everything’s alright. Maybe a showpiece fell?”
Nani and Mom peer at me curiously. I hastily spoon daal into my mouth.
When we finish, I rush to my bedroom and sit on my bed. I throw a baseball at the ceiling and catch it. Throw. Catch. Throw. Catch. If my ears are right, I can hear the yelling above. And I hope Ruchi hasn’t made any mistakes.
Or me.
I get down the stairs early in the morning. It’s Saturday, I know, but Nani wants me to grab Mom’s old bicycle—which is still in pretty good shape—and take a few rounds around the whole complex. I don’t complain. I haven’t ridden a bike in years, and it’s great to get back to it.
I hop on the bike and push the kickstand, then slowly move down the driveway, the wind breezing in my hair as the bike goes down the slopes and picks up speed. I finish a few rounds when I see Rachit Uncle come out.
Crap! He’s the last person I’d rather see. I don’t want to know how it went with him and Ruchi, and I don’t want to find out. But I have to park the bike anyway. I pull into the parking lot and park next to the family Honda.
“Jay.” Rachit Uncle nods at me. “I’d like to talk to you.”
I gulp. Get off the bike. Go to him.
“It’s about Ruchi.” He straightens his glasses.
I shake in my sneakers. “Yes, sir?”
“I… need someone to keep her busy for a while. Chanchal, Charan and I are heading to the market today… to run some errands and get some things. I don’t know anyone else who I can entrust Ruchi’s safety—“
“She can come over,” I blurt. “Nani, Mom and I will be with her.”
He smiles. It’s either reserved or relieved. “Thank you. Would you mind informing her now?” He glances over my shoulder.
I turn to see Chanchal Aunty come down in a formal kurti along with a purse. Charu trails behind her in a dress jacket. My cue.
“I’ll go up and let her know.” I walk backwards slowly, then jolt up the stairs.
It’s not the first time Ruchi’s been in my house, but after Mom and I moved in, she hasn’t set a foot through the door. And she’s never been in my room.
She stares at what used to be Mom’s sanctuary when she was a teenager, which was remodelled to hold a pegboard over the wall-fixed study desk, my guitar cases and amplifier, and a small bookcase with a OneRepublic poster on the side. Between the doorframe of the balcony and the in-built cupboards, just like Ruchi’s, hangs a gay pride flag. Any room of mine—American or Indian—isn’t complete without it.
I shrug. “So, whaddaya think?”
She sits on the bed. “It’s nice. Very you.”
I pull out the few board games I have. “Take your pick: Risk, Monopoly Classic, rummy, or UNO.”
We play a few games of UNO for a while, until Mom comes in with glasses of lemonade. “It’s boiling out there. Would you like to have lunch with us, Ruchi? Nani and I are preparing pav bhaji.”
Ruchi gives a half-smile. I realise she hasn’t even smiled once since she came in. “I’d love to. My parents will be away for a while.”
As we start unpacking Risk, I keep my eyes on Ruchi’s face.
“How’d everything go yesterday?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I told them I didn’t want to be so girly all the time. My dad said it’s the rules if I want to be safe, but then I countered with the fact that being safe all the time a lot is crap. And things kind of got ugly. I still demanded what I wanted: to just do the stuff I want to do.”
I wince. The yelling was definitely real. I’d been kind of hoping it wasn’t them, and it was in some other flat.
“I think they wanna get out of the house for a while, so they left.” Ruchi flips through the instructions' booklet. “I’m not sure how to play Risk. Think you can teach me?”
I keep quiet. Ruchi frowns as she reads the booklet.
“Are… are you okay, Ruch?” I whisper softly.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Jay. Let’s play this.”
But I can definitely hear the crack in her voice.
Chapter 10
Ruchi Becomes Ruchi
Ruchi is terrible at Risk. Even after a few games, she still can’t get the hang of it. I’m also getting tired of playing board games. I wish I had my Xbox so we can play some Minecraft or any other video game, but Mom sold it before we left for India. Says there was no room to keep it in Nani’s place.
Ruchi and I are in the living room because I suggested we could watch a movie. But then the doorbell rings, and Charu’s outside.
“Ammi and Appu are calling you upstairs,” he says to Ruchi. He looks at me. “You can come too if you like. They said you can hang out with her later.”
Ruchi and I exchange looks as I follow them upstairs, and find the Singhs’ door wide open. Ruchi peers inside, and gasps.
“Oh my God!”
I take a look, and my jaw drops.
In the centre of the living room is a huge drum set, in bold red. And literally not one part of the set is missing! On the sofas, there are bags and bags of clothes, shoes and other stuff I don’t think was in the house before. A pair of drumsticks pokes out from one of them.
“What’s all this?” Ruchi asks Rachit Uncle.
He sighs. “You… you’re apparently right. I realised we were putting too much pressure on you to be perfect, to keep you safe. But henceforth, you are who you would like to be.”
“B-but… how did you get all this stuff?” She sputters.
“We sold your violin and bought the drums, complete with some learning material. Then, your mother thought you’d like to wear something more comfortable than kurtis all day, so… that explains the clothes.”
Ruchi’s jaw is still hanging. Then, she runs over and gives her dad a hug. “Thank you, Appu,” she says, voice shaky with tears. She hugs her mom and tousles her brother’s hair. She finally turns to me.
“Thanks, dude.”
I shrug. “For what?”
“For telling me to stand up to my parents. And giving me the courage.” She steps forward. “I don’t think I could’ve done it otherwise.”
I beam. “It was all you, you know.”
She shakes her head, smiling, and reaches out for a hug. I squeeze back, to the bewildered looks of Rachit Uncle and Chanchal Aunty.
Releasing, Ruchi looks at them. “Oh, no, there’s nothing. Don’t worry.”
I laugh.
“Well,” Ruchi starts. “I better help unpack. But if you can bring up your guitar and amp—“
“Oh, I’m coming for that jam sesh.” I grin. “No doubt.”
Comments
Post a Comment