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Summer 2007

On a typical Sunday, we get up late and saunter down to the kitchen one by one. Mom is an early riser. Dad? Not so. Mom usually makes something special for us. Sometimes it is Upama, a spicy dish made from grits, and other times it is an American breakfast with toast and Indian-style omelets featuring onion, tomatoes, and cilantro. Dad is a vegetarian but he makes an exception for eggs so he can eat an omelet. Dad subscribes to the New York Times, Sunday edition, in addition to the Washington Post. He likes Op-Ed articles.

On this particular Sunday, I am awake upstairs but practice my guitar before joining others in the kitchen. I smell the sweet aroma of Mom’s pancakes. After a while, I go downstairs and pick up the sports section of the Post. The Nationals are leading their division by ten games. Scherzer had a no-hitter in the game played against the Mets the day before. I had watched the whole game and went to bed late. I want to read the details of the game and the analysis. I also like to read the comics in the Post. The ones in the weekend edition are in color. I enjoy reading the latest antics of Big Nate and Dustin, my favorites. Along with Zits, Blondie, and Sally. The one about the old couple, Pickles, is funny, too.

It is eleven-thirty when Lakshmi comes down in her pajamas and a bathrobe. She is yawning as if she hasn’t had enough sleep. Mom points to the breakfast table, where she has placed pancakes and scrambled eggs on a plate. Dad has finished reading the paper and is watching NBC, Meet the Press (MPT), and Mom is talking to someone on the phone.

Dad comes to the kitchen and sits beside Lakshmi when the MPT program is over. He waits until Mom has finished her call. Lakshmi senses something unusual going on, and she is the culprit. She looks first at Dad and then at Mom.

“What’s going on?” she asks while pouring coffee into her cup. She prefers coffee black. Mom and Dad are tea drinkers. I drink a cold glass of milk if anything.

“You tell me,” Dad says, addressing Lakshmi.

“Tell you what?” Lakshmi is puzzled by Dad’s tone.

“Well, it appears,” Dad looks at Mom who is now standing behind Lakshmi. “It appears that you have been in contact with Akaash.”

“Sort of.”

“What kind of answer is that, sort of?”

Lakshmi gets up and retrieves the box of Trader Joe’s organic cornflakes. Mom points to the covered plate on the table. Lakshmi shakes her head to show she doesn’t want it and sits at the table with a bowl of cornflakes.

“Well?” Dad asks again.

I am confused too. What could have happened and why not ask her directly?

“There’s not much to say, Dad.”

It appears Lakshmi is clueless as well.

“Your uncle Mayur says that you and Aakash have been in contact for a while.”

“For two months. That’s not a while.”

“Whatever. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“As I said, there’s nothing to tell.”

“We want to know what’s going on.”

“Dad. You don’t have to know everything. You will know in time if something happens. If anything happens, I will tell you then.” Lakshmi has stopped eating and is looking straight at Dad. I hope she doesn’t start to cry.

“That’s not nice to say to your dad,” Mom interjects.

“Mayur told us that you two have been in contact,” Dad repeats what he has already said as if he’s at a loss for other words. “If so, why didn’t you tell us?”

“He sent me an email. Not a big deal. Told me about his work and such. We are now friends on Facebook.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.” Lakshmi moves the spoon back and forth in the bowl and takes a mouthful.

“I would have thought you two would have set a date to meet somewhere.”

“Dad, things don’t happen as fast as you wish them to happen. I don’t want to give the impression that I am desperate to meet him.”

“You are meeting Doog.” Dad is at it again. I don’t understand why. I don’t know if he purposely mispronounces Doug’s name to show his annoyance.

“Doug.”

“Yes, Doug. What about him?”

Lakshmi stops eating the cereal and glares at Dad. I want to say something in support of Lakshmi but decide to keep quiet. The phone rings. Mom usually picks up, but she’s left the room. I get up and answer it. It’s Krishna. 

“Oh, hi, Krishna. How’s school?” I ask.

“Oh, man. They keep us so busy.” Krishna sounds tired, and his voice seems like it’s coming from a distance.

“Keep the faith. It’ll be all right. Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to the break and being with you guys. How’s sis?”

I’m not sure if I want to tell him what’s going on. There is no reason to confuse him. He will find out anyway, should anything develop. I hand over the phone to Dad. I am afraid dad will fill him in on the details about Lakshmi and Akaash, but luckily, he starts by asking Krishna about his courses and grades. He is smiling, which means he likes what he is hearing.

“Keep it up. When do you decide about applying for the medical track?”

I don’t know Krishna’s answer, but Dad doesn’t get upset or anything, so I guess he is happy with the answer.

“Mom’s not here. I don’t know where she went. I’ll ask her to give you a call when she returns,” Dad says and hangs up.

When Mom talks with Krishna, it goes on for an hour at least. They talk about his activities other than his studies. She asks him about friends he’s mentioned before, any girls he has or has not met, how’s the cafeteria food, and whether is he eating enough. Stuff like that. It’s different with dad. He has only a few things on his mind, and as soon as he gets the answers, he’s happy. No more small talk.

After the talk with Krishna, Dad goes to his study and turns on the computer. He checks the email, bank statements, and credit card statements daily. Looks like he has forgotten the conversation he was having with Lakshmi. I am glad. 

I walk over to Lakshmi.

“Don’t let them force you into something you don’t want to do,” I say softly.

“It’s okay. Akaash seems like a nice guy. He’s very busy with his internship. They have to work forty-eight hours straight, you know. I don’t know how he does it. He has posted some photos of himself in scrubs on Facebook. He looks hilarious, kind of cute.”

She’s talking in a soft tone, almost a whisper.

“Oh, oh! Watch out, Sis. It sounds like somebody has started to like him,” I say, with an elongated “Watch out” and giving a soft push to her shoulder with my finger.

Lakshmi flashes one of her cute smiles. “Stop it.” She says, pushing my hand away.

Lakshmi has calmed down. She has finished her coffee and cereal. She takes the empty bowl to the sink, rinses it, and places it on the bottom rack of the dishwasher.

Mom comes down. I tell her that she missed talking with Krishna.

“Really? When did he call?” Mom is sorry not to have talked with her favorite son. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Dad talked with him. He said he didn’t know where you were.” 

“Oh, my! I was upstairs making the beds. I didn’t hear anything. Well. I’ll call him later. Did he say anything special?”

“I don’t know. Dad seemed happy.” 

I remember I had to go over to Dan for our band practice. Mom says she’ll drive me there.

I only heard a part of the conversation Dad and Krishna were having. I have an eerie feeling that something isn’t going well. I doubt Krishna gave Dad straight answers to his questions about applying for medical admission or whether he was facing any difficulties. Bad grades in some subjects, maybe? He may have talked in more detail with Mom, but maybe not. I hope whatever is bothering him will go away over time.

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To read chapter 10, click here. https://wp.me/p2b25R-gE