My Sister-In-Law is Coming!

This has been in planning, not for days or months but years. Finally my Sis-in-Law has decided to take the plunge from the other side of the world to this side. This is not merely a lateral movement; it is a movement across hemispheres; not just East-West but North-South as well. Sis-In-Law will be traveling up North and West. Civilizations have been born, somewhere in north-south direction, upheavals have occurred and what not. She'll be bringing Vegemite with her! This is something that only Aussies understand and it's best left to them. Apparently it is well understood by my husband and hence a couple of jars will arrive as well. Aussie band, Men At Work must have loved it; they immortalized it in a song; trust those pesky artists to sing about Vegemites and chunder! Indian 'Karela' comes closest to the awful nature of Vegemite; for me, bitter the better. 

Men At Work: Down Under; You Tube

Sis-in-law's pending plans have made our quiet presence, fully known to authorities, Australian and American, the latter not very efficient at detecting anyone's entry, leave alone people operating as terrorists and their regular entries and exits; that has been left to the amount of bombs they explode and people they kill, just like Tsarnaev brothers who went back and forth between Boston and Chechnya. Not one American scratched his head; the Russians did but then who is going to listen to them; they seem to do things in the coldest way, not enough to excite American passion even about direct terrorist threats which were snuffed quickly under the weight of politically incorrect nonsense. Not the Russians; they don't suffer from PC illness and they do things because they can!

Anyway, my Sis-in-Law has given me sufficient assurances that they will pick up after them, knowing my angst for kids' penchant of leaving things as they are; if they are lying, leave them there to be picked up by mother, which would be me. As long as there is chaos, people remain occupied and bereft of trouble, something terrorists and sympathizers need to develop full time. Sis-In-Law is also ready to venture on the right side of the road after driving for decades on the left! A few hoots and horns might be heard on an otherwise fairly quiet system of driving on American roads; she and Australian friend are free to travel by themselves; I'll watch from the window! Moving on the right side is a welcome change politically, considering progression in age and wisdom; time to shove those ideals in the closet and get on with real world.

Sis-in-Law is coming with an Australian friend. I'm not sure if I can follow Australian accents too well; maybe I'll just put those men to work! Perhaps I will just pretend and smile and agree to everything, maybe do the quintessential Indian nod, saying yes and no and maybe, all at once. Who knows what those damn Indians are nodding about anyway? There will be a cacophony of sounds: Hindi, Urdu, Bengali, American English, Australian English and Hinglish. There will be partnering: Bengali with Bengali, Hindi with Hindi, English for all, whether understood or not. Some Australian cuisines will be brought to the kitchen and of course the notorious fish eating habits of Bengalis will be revived. My sis-in-law will also resuscitate sluggish American economy with her plans of shopping and all! Hola Sis!

Afternoon Tea at the Admiral's House.

It was one of those typical hot summer days of Delhi. As the temperature soared, so also did our woes. The biggest of all were the dry faucets. No water meant our moving from CR Park to the in-laws house for a week. So off we went to those sprawling bungalows on Akbar Road where some of the fattened politicians also resided. As things would have it, we were living peacefully, catered to by all the stewards in crisp white uniforms with peaked caps. We, the commoners unfortunately insisted on dressing shabby or rather more colorfully than Navy white. My husband was wearing bold printed Hawaiian shorts with blue and orange leaves and I was in some deheela dhala pajamas. We essentially looked liked bums. Anyway, breaking the reverie of one such afternoon was a tinkle at the door. There was one Mrs Junior Officer's Wife come to meet my Mum-in-law. This is how the conversation played out when she saw me:


Jr Officer's Wife: Madam hain? मैङम है ?

Joyce: Jee, hain. Kaun see Madam, Choti ya badi Madam? जी हाँ, कौन सी, छोटी या बणी ?

Jr Officer's Wife: Kya matlab? कया मतलब ?

I think I detected panic in Jr Officer's wife's eyes. I thought, she thought, could there be a scandal brewing in the Admiral's house. Was it possible that two ladies resided side by side in one house? I quickly clarified the situation to Jr Officer's Wife and said that Choti Madam was the Admiral's daughter and Badi Madam was his wife. Jr Officer's Wife sighed with relief. 

Jr Officer's Wife: Kaho Mrs Junior Officer ayeen hai. कहो जूनियर अौफिसर आयी है

Joyce: Yes, Madam. जी मैङम

I went in and promptly called my husband, thinking this drama must be played out to the full. It was my husband's turn to add to the confusion when he accompanied me to the door.

Bapi: Yes Madam. Aapko kisse milna hai?  जी मैङम, आपको किससे मिलना है ?

Jr Officer's Wife: Mrs Admiral Ghosh ko bula do, abhi. Admn Mrs Ghosh को बुला दो, अभी !

Jr Officer's Wife must have detected some disorganization in our faces so made sure we went in and fetched Mrs Admiral within the next few minutes, not days. I'm pretty sure she had never hoped to see Hawaiian shorts and pajamas being paraded in an Admiral's house. Such a disgrace for Indian Navy, she must have thought. Anyway, my husband and I went in to call my Mum-in-Law aka Admiral Mrs. Ghosh. As I related the tale to my mum-in-law, she decided we continue with the game. She also immediately barred any Stewards from getting to the door. 

Stewards were those decent people in the Admiral household who not only prepared breakfast and dinner but kept all necessary appointments intact; they also polished all the brass in the house till we were ready to be blinded by the glint. These were people who made it impossible for commoners like me to eat in peace. Stewards standing silently behind my back interjecting occasionally with one arm or the other to serve or clear the table, clearly put me in a state of disarray. Nonetheless, my husband and I returned in our regal pajamas and Hawaiian shorts to confront the Jr Officer's Wife, still waiting at the door.

Jr Officer's Wife: Kya hua? Aur tum dono ke uniforms kahan hain? कया हुआ, तुम दोनो के युनिफारम कहाँ हैँ ?

Bapi: Maloom nahin. मालूम नही !

Joyce: Madam ne kaha hai thoda rukiye.   मैङम ने कहा है रुकिये

Bapi and I went back in, leaving the Jr Officer's Wife with her mouth open. We eventually came back to the door with my Mum-in-law with both of us tucked under her arms on either side. As my Mum-in-Law apologized she still refused to say I was the daughter-in-law and the other miscreant her son. As we walked to the living room, I did not get a chance to see the Jr Officer's Wife's face. 

The party settled down, Bapi and I left the living room to come back in with some tinkling cups and saucers to complete the pretty picture of two Navy ladies having their afternoon tea. When finally my Mum-in-law formally introduced us, there was much tripping, sitting, standing, fumbling, jumbling and a few gasps as well. Let's just say the Jr Officer's Wife's face did not look relishing at all. I wouldn’t have minded staying and saying 'yes madam' the entire evening but my husband decided it was best we retired to our room if the two Madams didn't mind. 

A Ride in the Admiral's Car.

I was getting married in two days. My father-in-law was coming for a little talk with me in two hours. My husband-to-be disappeared on his Bullet (motorcycle) in exactly two minutes. Not a very auspicious beginning but I stayed brave. I saw a gleaming white Ambassador arrive adorned with a whole bunch of fluttering flags. Then I saw white shoes emerge followed by white pleated trousers, then white buttons, and then a white hat. I saw all these white things marching up to my little pad. I was expecting a normal looking father-in-law not an Admiral in full Navy regalia. Nonetheless, I welcomed the Admiral and gave him a little stool to sit on. For the entire time of the Admiral being there, I was transfixed by the rickety condition of the stool, which threatened to crumble any time. Perhaps the Admiral too realized that and recommended we go for a ride in his car. I couldn’t agree more and so we marched down the steps to the waiting car. I counted the first salute from the chauffeur; there were many more to follow. 

I sat in one corner of the seat and the Admiral in the other corner. Then the Ambassador speeded down the road and what a spectacle that was. Any time the gleaming thing stopped, I saw regular traffic police salute the car and then the Admiral smartly return the salute. Somewhere I thought I should do the same. So while my father-in-law returned the salute from one side of the car, I returned the salute surreptitiously from the other side of the car – to everyone and no one in particular. I was amazed at how shabbily the traffic treated the traffic cops. No one paid any attention to the traffic cop and he was just pivoting round and round with his whistle. I thought he had gone mad. Then suddenly he spotted our Ambassador and blew his whistle for so long that all traffic stopped out of sheer surprise. He saluted and our car breezed by. Boy, was I impressed!

To break my reverie of such traffic surprises, I heard my father-in-law say ‘do you know what you are doing because my son doesn’t, neither does his mother and nor do I’. I thought he should have added my name to the list as well. Then I heard him ask how were we both going to support ourselves, where were we going to live etc. Frankly speaking, I hadn’t thought about such existential questions before. Suddenly, these became very concrete much more than the pending marriage itself. I thought I should impress the car and the Admiral and almost told him that I was working for UNICEF and that when I stopped, his son would find work and that the hole er the one-room pad would suffice and that men and women somehow found a way to get by. Thankfully enough I said nothing. In fact, I joined the Admiral in wondering as well. My mind had also begun to wander about what exactly was the correct way to do the Navy Salute. Was it palm up or palm down or palm straight out. Was it on top of the nose or the forehead or on the side just near the ear? God, was my mind confused? Damn, I could’ve at least asked the Admiral’s son about it.  But the Admiral’s son was absconding and here I was trying to learn the salute and how to descend gracefully into marriage.