‘Anacoluthia.’
‘Yes, and I was ‘having good dreams and he didn’t want to disturb me.’
‘Excellent baby,’ said Pran.
‘Our baby,’ said Savita. Pran got another hug.
They were silent for a while. Then, as Pran was drifting off to sleep, Savita said: ‘He seems to have a lot of energy.’
‘Oh?’ said Pran, half asleep.
Savita, now wide awake with her thoughts, was in no mood to cut off this conversation.
‘Do you think he will turn out to be like Maan?’ she asked.
‘He?’
‘I sense he’s a boy,’ said Savita in a resolved sort of way.
‘In what sense like Maan?’ asked Pran, suddenly remembering that his mother had asked him to talk to his brother about the direction of his life – and especially about Saeeda Bai, whom his mother referred to only as ‘woh’ – that woman.
‘Handsome – and a flirt?’
‘Maybe,’ said Pran, his mind on other matters.
‘Or an intellectual like his father?’
‘Oh, why not?’ said Pran, drawn back in. ‘He could do worse. But without his asthma, I hope.’
‘Or do you think he’ll have the temper of my grandfather?’
‘No, I don’t think it was an angry sort of kick. Just informative. “Here I am; it’s two in the morning, and all’s well.” Or perhaps he was, as you say, interrupting a nightmare.’
‘Maybe he’ll be like Arun – very dashing and sophisticated.’
‘Sorry, Savita,’ said Pran. ‘If he turns out to be like your brother, I’ll disown him. But he’ll have disowned us long before that. In fact, if he’s like Arun, he’s probably thinking at this very moment: “Awful service in this room; I must speak to the manager so that I can get my nutrients on time. And they should adjust the temperature of the amniotic fluid in this indoor swimming pool, as they do in five-star wombs. But what can you expect in India? Nothing works at all in this damned country. What the natives need is a good solid dose of discipline.” Perhaps that’s why he kicked me.’
Savita laughed. ‘You don’t know Arun well enough,’ was her response.
Pran merely grunted.
‘Anyway, he might take after the women in this family,’ Savita went on. ‘He might turn out to be like your mother or mine.’ The thought pleased her.
Pran frowned, but this latest flight of Savita’s fancy was too taxing at two in the morning. ‘Do you want me to get you something to drink?’ he asked her.
‘No, mm, yes, a glass of water.’
Pran sat up, coughed a little, turned towards the bedside table, switched on the bedside lamp, and poured out a glass of cool water from the thermos flask.
‘Here, darling,’ he said, looking at her with slightly rueful affection. How beautiful she looked now, and how wonderful it would be to make love with her.
‘You don’t sound too good, Pran,’ said Savita.
Pran smiled, and passed his hand across her forehead. ‘I’m fine.’
‘I worry about you.’
‘I don’t,’ Pran lied.
‘You don’t get enough fresh air, and you use your lungs too much. I wish you were a writer, not a lecturer.’ Savita drank the water slowly, savouring its coolness in the warm night.
‘Thanks,’ said Pran. ‘But you don’t get enough exercise either. You should walk around a bit, even during your pregnancy.’
‘I know,’ said Savita, yawning now. ‘I‘ve been reading the book my mother gave me.’
‘All right, goodnight, darling. Give me the glass.’
He switched off the light and lay in the dark, his eyes still open. I never expected to be as happy as this, he told himself. I’m asking myself if I’m happy, and it hasn’t made me cease to be so. But how long will this last? It isn’t just me but my wife and child who are saddled with my useless lungs. I must take care of myself. I must take care of myself. I must not overwork. And I must get to sleep quickly.
And in five minutes he was in fact asleep again.
6.6
THE next morning a letter from Calcutta arrived in the post. It was written in Mrs Rupa Mehra’s inimitable small handwriting, and went as follows:
Dearest Savita and Pran,
I have just a little while ago received your dear letter and it is needless to say how delighted I am to get it. I was not expecting a letter from you Pran as I know you are working very hard and could hardly get any time to write letters so the pleasure of receiving it is even greater.
I am sure inspite of difficulties Pran dearest your dreams in the department will come true. You must have patience, it is a lesson I have learned in life. One must work hard and everything else is not in one’s hands. I am blessed that my sweetheart Savita has such a good husband, only he must take care of his health.