“Singauri, a Kumaoni dessert made fromkhoya.”Jimmy pulls out a cone wrapped in a leaf with a dollop of the dried whole milk peeping out.“We will make a Kumaonichawraout of you.”
“Are you sure you are a fitness instructor?Or are you trying to stir trouble between Sahil and me?Yesterday, you gave me buttered curry for breakfast.Today, these sweets for lunch.”
“What can I say?I am an extremely corrupting influence.”Jimmy tickles my waist.
I squirm away from him.“Hey, if you continue this, we will never be able to get to our lunch.”
Jimmy's stomach growls.“Guess I have no choice.”
“Okay, I should feed you now.”I grab a vase, pour water, and place the flowers.They will go well with the table for two I have arranged on the porch.
“Wow, what a view.”Jimmy smiles at the small valley behind my home.“The sight must be amazing when theBuranshtrees bloom.”He points at the slight decline converging from two sides, ending in a flat piece of land where a huge rhododendron tree rises into the sky.
“This small private valley is the reason I bought the house.The photo of the rhododendrons in full bloom shared by the realtor captivated me.”The rest of the area is covered in deodar and pine trees.The foliage keeps the place cool even in the height of the noon sun.“Sit.Let me bring the food.”
“No, I will help.I am not a spoilt brat.”Jimmy follows me to the kitchen.Between the two of us, we set the table in two rounds.
“Oh, wow.Amazing.Roasted chicken and vegetable curry.”Jimmy pours theBuranshjuice into our glasses while I serve the dishes.
“Yum!”Jimmy licks the gravy off his fingers after his first bite.“Why does this taste so good?”
“Finish, and I will show you a secret.”Over the next fifteen minutes, Jimmy does not speak as he devours the food.
Once done, he rubs his stomach.Images float in my mind of me feeding him after he returns home at night after a day’s work.I shake myself out of trotting down this imaginary road.
Why am I having these domestic thoughts?What do I expect to come out of this?Is a relationship even on the table with such a young man?These yearnings clouding my mind will soon morph into expectations.A simple combination of twelve consonants and vowels in the English language, but together, they outweigh a black hole.Fluid and ever-changing at any time in eternity.I study Jimmy as he gathers the dishes and tidies the table.
“Who taught you to cook?”Jimmy breaks me out of my reverie.
“I lived alone for a significant part of my life.In my post-grad, cooking in my room costed less than eating outside.Ma brought in a single income.My father had died before my twelfth birthday.”
Jimmy reaches out and holds my hand, “I am sorry.”
I give him a wan smile and continue to pour my woes.Other than Jatin, I have no one else who would listen.Even though Jimmy and I are fresh, like the new leaves after the monsoon rains, a connection has formed.
“After my divorce, I took up cooking to pass the time, trying recipes and techniques.Two of my friends lived close by.They both work nine-to-seven jobs, so they were handy and eager guinea pigs.”My mood sobers at the recollection.
“Addy, can I ask you something personal?”
He is being polite.Though phrased as a question, his intention is clear.This was inevitable.So I gulp down my dread.These conversations cannot be avoided if anything is to become of Jimmy and me.“Hmm, go ahead.What is on your mind?”
He takes a deep breath, “You don't have to answer this, but I am curious.You are so genuine and straightforward.How did you remain married?How did you suppress your sexuality?”
Ah!I had expected this question, but not as the first shot.Will Jimmy judge me?What will be his reaction?My past is not a monument I can hide away.I might as well take him on a guided tour.
“After my father passed away, my mother raised me.She worked as a teacher at a prestigious science college in Delhi.We were lucky to have a home of our own.For many years, through school and college, we were the pillars of each other’s life.Before I finished my Ph.D., Ma became sick.One thing led to another.”
The memory of Ma's frail body on the bed in her room brings tears, and my desperate effort to stop them by squeezing my eyes fails.Jimmy moves in front of me and gathers me in a hug.
“Every day, she spoke of only one thing.Find a wife.How will you live alone?Mymama jiintroduced Shalini, a niece of his friend.A simple, middle-class girl.She used to teach primary school kids.I did not dare to say no to Ma.The run-up to the marriage made her so happy.”My throat clogs.“Ma died a month after my marriage.”
He rubs my back.“Were you happy in your marriage?”
Was I?“Things were great during the first couple of years, but the pressure to have a child bore down on us from the extended family.We avoided family gatherings and spent most of our time at home.Intimacy became a chore, timed to the doctor’s orders.In our solitude, we created silos.Words between Shalini and me dried.Whatever slivers of love we had trickled out of the relationship.Even returning home from work felt like a walk to the gallows.”
I rub my eyes and clear my throat.Jimmy fills a glass of water and offers it to me.What impression am I leaving?Sniffling like a child, but the floodgates are now open.
“Fights broke out over trivial things.Living together became suffocating.I hated each day.The bickering only brought pain.Shalini wanted to separate, but I clung to the shrivelling thread binding us in the false hope of reviving our relationship.”Or the legacy of my promise to Ma.
