"What's the matter? Are you feeling fine?" Madhav had noticed that Surangi was unusually quiet that Saturday evening when he returned from the hostel to spend what was left of the weekend with his sister's family.
"Nothing, I am just a little tired after studying all afternoon!" Surangi replied. It was true, her exams were due soon and she was feeling stressed about her grades dropping. School had been easy to top as she had a command over the Marathi language. On the other hand college was a challenge, as the curriculum was in English, a language and culture she was still struggling to adapt to.
"Do you need help with your books? We can stay up late if you wish!" Madhav could have read her mind.
Although Surangi was a bright student the effort to translate unfamiliar words into her native language in order to understand what they meant before she could absorb the content was exasperating her. She found Math easier as mathematical syntax was far more relatable, unlike the intricacies of English grammar.
"Yes, I'd appreciate help, unless you are too tired and want to sleep!" She knew he had a demanding week himself. But Madhav had always been the guru she had looked up to during times of academic crises.
"We are both tired, but we can spend some time with those books or else the guilt won't let either of us sleep!" He laughed. He was the culprit, having set the bar of expectations in academics higher for her with every passing year.
Surangi helped Vidya wind up after dinner. Manohar was busy preparing for a case while Gaju got Madhav to brainstorm for ideas for a health science project he was working on.
Surangi showed Madhav the passages she had marked as important. After a quick glance through the new macroeconomic approach of Keynesian theory Madhav tried to simplify it for Surangi who jotted notes, in English and Marathi.
Gaju, who tried to keep awake watching his uncle and aunt discuss a subject he knew nothing about, soon grew bored and fell off to sleep. The night was warm and Surangi placed a light cotton sheet over him. It was understood that he would continue to sleep between his uncle and aunt until they were ready to assume their marital responsibilities.
"He has grown taller by a couple of inches in the past six months!" Surangi gazed at Gaju affectionately.
"I miss Madhu. Do you think he has forgotten us?" She wondered.
"Probably! Maybe we should take some time after the examinations and visit home! We haven't met the family in a while!" Madhav felt a tinge of nostalgia and guilt. Being away from them was inevitable.
"That's a good idea. Maybe we can take Gaju along too!" Even Surangi missed the simple life with her in-laws. Why, even Chandri had managed to travel home a few months ago soon after she lost her father. By then even her brother had found a wife and she was expecting a baby soon.
"We should sleep now! We can finish the rest tomorrow!" Madhav suggested.
"There was one more thing I wanted to talk about!" Surangi hesitated. She was not keen on broaching the subject though, it was a classic avoidance-avoidance conflict.
Madhav knew by instinct that she had been waiting to discuss something more. She was just waiting for the right moment to.
"We'll be able to go to sleep sooner if only you can unburden your mind quickly!" Madhav smiled.
"Do you remember that essay you helped me write for participation in the Rotary International Youth Exchange Programme? Looks like I have been shortlisted, along with some more students from across the city!" She spoke rather diffidently.
"What! That is great news! And you waited all evening to share it with me!" Madhav could not believe it, any other candidate would have told the world by now.
"I have only been shortlisted, not selected. There will be a test, followed by elimination on the basis of our performance. Then there shall be a personal interview by a review panel. The process may take a while." The strain was evident in her expression.
"What has been eating you? Tell me!" Madhav was growing impatient.
"We are not native English speakers. My vocabulary may have improved, but my diction has not. How can I impress a panel of selectors from across the world? I cannot possibly compete with girls and boys who went to fancy public schools!" Madhav could sense her distress.
"Tell me, Surangi! Has life not changed for both of us ever since we left our home back in our tiny village? And we have adapted to the change so well! If you had not taken the initiative to study in Bombay you may not have this opportunity knocking on the door! If you devote some time to improve your communication skills it will be easy to express yourself!" Madhav' s tone was encouraging.
"If I am selected I will have to spend a year overseas. I don't think I can cope with that, being away for so long!" She looked nervous.
"If I was in your shoes I would not hesitate a bit! It is a golden opportunity, you should accept it! Did you not stay away from me for several years after I moved to Bombay?" Madhav held her palms in his hands reassuringly.
"But we are building our new home! How can I go abroad at such a time, to serve my own interest?" She voiced her worries.
"Don't worry about that! Vidya Tai, Manohar Bhaoji and I can oversee the project. And about staying away from me, had we not decided to wait until you finish your education before we start living together as man and wife? Take a break to travel and learn more about the world, you may not have the time later when we start a family!" Madhav could see that she was lost in thought. Her confusion was understandable.
"There's another thing! If I am selected you and I shall get an invitation for dance and dinner!" Surangi had never attended a formal event before.
"So that's what you have been so frantic about! Surangi, there is always a first time for such things. It is natural to be anxious while attending a formal dinner, but if we rehearse we should manage fine!" Madhav said promptly, exuding confidence.
"But neither of us can dance. Those women wear gowns and dancing shoes. I don't own either. And people eat meat and drink wine on such occasions. It is not our culture to imbibe. Nor can I squirm out, it shall be deemed disrespectful if I do. What should I do?" Surangi felt trapped by the situation.
"Wait! Is this event the same as the Rotary ball happening at the Taj Mahal Hotel two weeks from now?" Madhav remembered that Dinkar had mentioned about being obliged to attend it because of his professional commitments.
"So, Dinkar Bhaoji and Rohini will be there too?" Surangi looked visibly relieved.
"Surangi, I won't mention anything to Dinu yet. Let's first wait and see if you are selected. Meanwhile I can arrange for you to meet a senior Parsi lady I know, she can groom you in social etiquette. If you have to live abroad for a year you must learn how to conduct yourself in western society. Now we should grab some sleep, if you don't mind!" He switched off the light and both of them lay down on either side of Gaju who was, by now, snoring cutely.
Nergis Mody lived a cycling distance away from Vidya's home. She was the French tutor for the Parsi children Madhav used to coach, that is how he knew her. Also the amicable lady, who was also a spinster, often volunteered her time to counsel patients at the hospital attached to Madhav's college.
Rumour had it that she was a wealthy heiress but preferred to live by herself in a tidy modest apartment. Her current existence was a far cry from the upbringing she was given by her Anglophile parents who had sent her to boarding school in Switzerland. Her family had relocated to Hong Kong but she had stayed put in Bombay, no one was sure why. She had a past but she never spoke about it.
When Madhav introduced his slightly nervous wife to Nergis, explaining the reason why she needed training in social etiquette she readily agreed to take the new pupil under her wing.
"The napkin goes on your lap when you are seated. You can leave it on your chair if you leave the table to, you know, powder your nose!" Thus Surangi learnt the polite phrase for going to the toilet.
"Hold the knife like a pen, and the prongs of the fork should point downwards while you spear the food and convey it to your mouth. Remember to chew with your mouth closed. Do not speak when you have food in the mouth!"
Nergis ran Surangi through the courses of the menu, the order of foods and the correct way to enjoy them, as well as through matching of dishes and wines.
Surangi nearly choked when she was told how to deal with a fishbone in the mouth or the right way to eat oysters. She did not have the courage to tell Nergis that she had never tasted fish or meat before but managed to memorise the choice of accompaniments. Despite her inhibitions she always sought clarification for many a mysteries.
The range of Western style dinnerware was staggering. There were individual plates for soup, for fish, meat, bread, and there was even a bean shaped one for salad. The cutlery arsenal included oyster forks, crab crackers and pick, separate knives for fish, poultry, steak and for spreading butter on bread. She began to feel sorry for the scullery maids who would have so much work piled up for them after each meal.
The lessons were meticulous. Dinner usually began with an hors d'oeuvre or soup. One cast a little salt and pepper over the soup before dipping the spoon in. One ate soup rather than drinking it, elegantly, from the side of the spoon. Bread was meant to be buttered and then eaten till the end of a meal.
Fish was served after soup, followed by meat which was served with carrots, peas and potatoes. A pudding ended a meal, and coffee was served later in tiny cups, in the Continental tradition.
Dining etiquette was easier to master than dance lessons. Surangi nearly burst into tears as she struggled with the steps, her feet shod in borrowed high heeled shoes that felt unnatural on her feet.
"Use Math to count out the beats. It helps make a rhythm for the dance."
Surangi was overwhelmed by the dance styles. There was waltz, foxtrot, swing, jive, the Charleston and many more.
"As long as you can manage the Jazz Ballroom dancing you will be fine. Because that is what they use on formal occasions. And remember, you need to practice your steps with Dr Madhav to be confident enough to enjoy yourself each time you are at a party!"
By this time Nergis and Surangi were close enough for her to reveal that she was not a spinster by choice. She had been betrayed by a cad of a lover who had decamped with a large amount of her money, choosing a rather attractive Anglo-Indian girl over her. Rather than sob over her fate Nergis had gotten back on her feet and dedicated herself to tutoring students and making a difference to those whose lives were less fortunate.
After a few sessions Nergis assured Surangi that she had taught her nearly everything that was important and that she would put her knowledge to test in the final class. As soon as Surangi's university exams were done Nergis set her a date for her own exam.
Surangi's academic inclination helped her sail through the knowledge based test effortlessly.
Which sauce with fried fish? Tartare sauce with crumbed, and tomato with battered.
With roast goose? Apple sauce. With roast chicken? Bread sauce.
Marmalade on toast for breakfast and scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserve for afternoon tea.
Vegetarians could safely order a range of dishes like leek and potato soup, bubble and squeak, pease pudding, vegetable casserole, potato pie, nut roast, Welsh Rarebit, mushrooms on toast, apple crumble, summer pudding and strawberries with cream.
"My dear, your performance had been très formidable !! To commemorate your success we shall celebrate with my homemade Dar Ni Pori and mint tea!!" Nergis looked happy. The awkward Marathi mulgi had morphed into a confident debutante, although she still had a long way to go to be accepted among the elite social circles of the city.
To Surangi's sheer delight, the unfamiliar Dar Ni Pori turned out to be a delicious pastry filled with sweetened lentil purée and nuts, reminding her of the Marathi confection puran poli, only this was crisp and had a nuttier taste because it was baked in an oven.
"Here, this is for you!" Surangi handed Nergis a small box.
"What is this?" Nergis was amused. Of course she was not going to accept anything from Surangi.
"It is a humble Guru Dakshina from your pupil! For us it is obligatory to offer it in return for the enrichment in knowledge! Please accept it!" Surangi urged her to open the box and it revealed a delicately crafted silver medallion in the shape of a dragon, set on a base of lapis lazuli. It came with an equally delicate silver chain.
"I hope you like it! It would be an honour if you wear it! The Chinese believe that dragons are harbingers of good fortune!" Surangi was quoting the trinket seller with whom she had driven a hard bargain for the medallion.
Nergis stared at the medallion for a few moments. With a tremor in her hands she pried open the back of the ornament. Surangi noticed that her eyes had gone misty and her expression had changed.
"Where did you get this, if I may ask?" Nergis asked in a subdued voice.
Surangi told her, wondering if she had unwittingly offended Nergis or had somehow touched a raw nerve.
"Is everything alright? If you don't like it I can take it back!" Surangi was feeling awkward now.
"This used to belong to me. It was a going away gift from my mother when I was being sent to the European boarding school. I never saw my mother alive after that, she died while giving birth to my youngest brother! See, there is an engraving here with her name and mine, and the date." Nergis wiped the corner of her eye with her lace kerchief.
"What an amazing coincidence! But how did it turn up in that shop?" Surangi wondered how she had been convinced to buy stolen goods.
"The casket in which I kept it was stolen, along with most of my jewellery, many decades ago! But it was destined to come back to me, maybe because it carries my mother's blessing for her errant daughter! This day is really special for me!" Nergis rose and went into her room. She emerged a couple of minutes ago carrying an exquisitely embroidered saree.
"This was my mother's own gaara! The last time she wore it was to attend a family event at the Taj Mahal Hotel. If you are selected for the programme I'd like it very much if you wore this to the Rotary Ball!" Nergis' fingers held the fabric almost reverently, caressing the intricate Chinese embroidery.
"But Madame, this is a precious heirloom! I dare not defile it!" Surangi mumbled.
"My dear girl, it is time for you to sit down and hear the story of my life. I am afraid I have carried it in my head for too long! If I don't tell someone about it, the tale will be buried forever! Do you have the inclination to lend me your ears?" Nergis asked. There was a quiet determination in her eyes. It was impossible for Surangi to say no.