Tanya Tania by Antara Ganguli Page B

Bibi had come back.
    So you see, my mother had known about Chhoti Bibi all along. She hadn’t forgotten, hadn’t disappeared. I shouldn’t have doubted her. I should be a better daughter.
    My mother came out of her room yesterday. We had tea together in the evening and Bibi made samosas in honour of the occasion. Even Navi was there by some miracle although he came late and was sweaty and rude and said the samosas were burnt when really, they were just crisp. She asked him questions about school but he gave one-word answers. He can be such a brat. I told her all about my college applications and she agreed with all my choices. Which is no small thing, Tania, because you know, my mother was admitted to all the colleges she had applied to, including Harvard and Yale. I have no idea why she went to Wellesley.
    My mother sat on the verandah and had tea with us. She talked to me about school and laughed at an excellent joke I made. We sat there for a long time, the three of us, drinking several cups of tea and even though I really needed to use the bathroom, I didn’t get up until it got dark and my mother went inside. I sat by myself in the garden with the flies and the invisible birds and wished that every day would end like this, with my mother and my brother sitting beside me eating burnt samosas.
    Love,
    Tanya

    March 14, 1992
    Bombay
    Dear Tanya,
    Something bad happened at school today and I was a part of it. I don’t know how to tell Nusrat. She’s going to hate me.
    I came home in a bad mood but it didn’t help that my parents were arguing at the dinner table. Of course.
    â€˜How can you blindly follow the Congress after all these years?’
    â€˜What is the alternative? A goonda gang of thugs?’
    â€˜That is so unfair! You’re not even giving them a chance!’
    My mom started shrieking. ‘So they will destroy a mosque? Destroy our culture, destroy our country?’ A piece of spinach flew out of her mouth and landed in the daal.
    â€˜Mom, can I have the vegetables?’
    â€˜You’re the only businessman—sorry, businessWOMAN I know who doesn’t support the BJP Sraboni. Your hypocrisy is unbelievable! Do you remember when our country went BANKRUPT?’
    â€˜Please Shayon, don’t even pretend to know about the economy, you’ll just embarrass yourself.’
    â€˜Mom, can I have the vegetables?’
    â€˜What you really mean is I’ll embarrass you, don’t you? Say it, for once just say it! Let’s stop this pretence.’
    â€˜Say what Shayon? I’m tired. I worked really late today.’
    â€˜Say it Sraboni! Just SAY IT!’
    â€˜GIVE ME THE FUCKING VEGETABLES MOM!’
    I hadn’t meant to but somehow I was standing up with a glass of water and my empty plate in my hand. My mom was staring at me, her mouth open and full of food. My dad was pushing his chair back from the table and I was so scared he was going to leave, so scared that it would be another night of their fighting. The glass slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor and smashed.
    â€˜What’s WRONG with you Tania!’
    I started screaming. Everything! Everything was wrong! How could they not see it? How could they be so blind? Fighting about stupid things that don’t matter when someone’s life was destroyed in school today. Stupid BJP, stupid Congress, my parents should have them for children.
    Of course it was my father that came to my room with a plate of food. He knocked on the door and peeped in with a big smile as if I was five years old. I wasn’t hungry anymore but I let him sit down next to me. He stroked my hair and I let him.
    â€˜Why are boys so mean? Are men mean like that?’
    â€˜Was someone mean to you?’
    I began to tell him what had happened. Even though I knew he wouldn’t like it. Even though I knew his smile would disappear and he would begin to fidget and look anywhere but at me, I began to