Malini had sent Jay to the market to get a few things. He had said he would also get his hair cut, while he is out. She was hoping that he would purchase get everything mentioned in the list she had given him. After sending him to the market, she took a shower. She came out with her hair still wet, wearing a white sari with a thick red stripe running on the edges, and a matching red half-sleeve blouse with frills. She went over to the dressing table and put a red bindi on her forehead and applied the red vermilion powder in the parting of her hair. The water from her hair had seeped through her sari, and she felt a chill on her back. She went back to the bathroom, brought her long tresses to one side and wrung it. She pulled her towel that was hanging on the bathroom hanger, bent forward, so her hair would hang, held the towel at both ends and used it as a whip to dry her hair. She then stood up, flung her hair back and went to the dressing table again. She stood in front of the mirror admiring herself. She had forgotten how she looked in a sari.

She went to the kitchen, lighted a rose incense stick and inserted it into the lotus shaped holder. She had chosen the shelf above the kitchen cabinet to place the framed picture of goddess Durga. They had brought it from India. She bowed in front of the picture and said a quick prayer. She realized she hadn’t heard Rabindra Sangeet in a long time, so she went to the living room, selected a tape and inserted it into the stereo.

Jay walked in sniffing the air, for the rose fragrance from the incense stick, had spread every where in the house.  He placed the polythene bags on the centre table in the living room, and stood there for a while, with his eyes closed, swaying to the music.  Then he walked to the kitchen. His jaw fell as he gazed at Malini. Odd drops of water still fell from the tip of her hair on to the floor. Her back was toward him, and she had not noticed him yet. He cleared his throat and she turned to look at him. He fixed his eyes on her with an expression that he had on the first night they were together as husband and wife. She looked at him like he wasn’t Jay, but someone pretending to be him.

“You…look…beautiful Malini,” Jay said softly. He stood at the entrance with his head slightly tilted, with a smile that said I don’t want dinner, but I am ready for my dessert.

“And you…look…,” she began slowly, “like…someone ran their lawn-mower on your head.” She finished with particular stress on the words “lawn-mower” and “head.”                     

Jay looked everywhere, except at her. 

“What have you done to your hair?” she asked with disbelief.

“I…didn’t, the lady at the barber shop did?” Jay stuttered the words out.

“And you sat there without saying a word?” She said. She shook her head and pinched her eyebrows.

“I couldn’t see properly. She had told me to take my glasses off,” Jay said, still not meeting her eyes. 

“Oh my God! My friends are coming today? I hope you know,” she said, wagging her index finger at him.  “Look at you,” she pushed a handful of her hair away from her eyes.

“By the time I wore my glasses, it was all over,” Jay said, finally managing to look at her, but only for a split second, before averting her gaze.

“Did you at least tell her that you weren’t happy with it?” She asked, expecting him to be at least a little street smart.

“No,” he whispered, afraid she might throw something at him.

“No? Why? So you paid for this?” she said, every word coming out like it had been spoken with a motive to humiliate.

“Yeah, ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars!”

“She is from China, the lady, and has been here only for four months now. Like us. She can’t even speak English properly and seemed very nervous.”

“So?”

“So, I said I like it, because I didn’t want her to feel bad.”

Malini looked at him with a feeling of helplessness in her eyes.

“I am sorry,” Jay said in a faint voice.

Malini started preparing for dinner right after lunch. Jay circled the kitchen like a pregnant cat. She was cooking rice, fish curry, and black and yellow lentils for the main course. And for dessert, she was going to make Gajar halwa, ingredients for which lay organized, next to the sink, and rosogolla, which was ready to be dipped in the sugar syrup. Jay couldn’t think of anything else but food. Rice boiled in the cooker. Malini, without fail, placed cardamom pods in the cooker, which gave the rice a sweet and pleasing aroma.

He was appalled that she had made him have meatballs and noodles for lunch. So, when Malini wasn’t looking, Jay tried to sneak in and taste the fish curry, but she turned around just in time. She raised and lowered both her eyebrows, as if asking what he was trying to do, to which he replied by stretching his lips, raising his shoulders and then letting them drop. She used her index finger to gesture to him to leave.

“Jay! Are you at it again?” Malini asked, while plumping up her cushions.  She had already arranged the living room thrice.

“Then what! Look how quickly it gets dark here; it’s not even five yet. In India, it doesn’t get dark till seven in the evening. You know right?” He said, moving his hands animatedly.

“Oh Jay, not again,” she said, dejectedly.  “Don’t irritate me when my friends are about to visit.”                

Australians and most foreigners greet by first hugging, and then kissing on the cheek, so when Malini’s friends Roxanne, Joanna and Rachel greeted Jay in a similar fashion, he blushed, and for a moment thought that they were all flirting with him. His face turned red and he smiled to himself. But when he saw the guys greeting Malini in the same way, his forehead darkened. If Malini’s parents see her embracing and kissing men, they will perhaps disown her, he thought.

Her friends helped Malini set the table, while Jay and the guys sat on the couch chatting. He didn’t want to sit with the guys, but Malini with just a movement of her fingers, had told him not to move.

“So Jay, tell us something about India,” Michael said. He took his muffler off wrapped around his neck. He then removed his sports jacket and hung it over the couch.

“Like what?” Jay asked.

“Umm, say the roads how are the roads in India?” Michael said. 

“Okay. You know, the green figure of a man you have here at the traffic signals?”

“The one that tells pedestrians that they can cross the road?” John asked, who had a slightly pronounced British accent than Michael.    

“Yes,” Jay said, “We don’t have anything like that in India. If one side of the road has a red signal, the other will have a green, so cars constantly go by on the road.”

“So, how do you cross the road?” John asked. His accent got heavier particularly when he asked a question. Jay noticed that.

“We just cross it. We put up our hand in front of the vehicles and request them to let us pass. Some stop and some don’t. In those situations, you just have to run and hope that a truck or a bus doesn’t crush you. “

“Oh my God,” said Michael and put his hand on his mouth.

“That is dangerous,” John said.

Jay was enjoying this. He liked freaking people out with his tales about India. Sometimes he told the truth; sometimes he just exaggerated, to have some fun.

“I heard there are cows sitting on the roads. Is that true?” John asked.

“Even buffaloes,” Jay said. “They sit right in the middle of the road. And no matter how much you honk, they will not get up. They will just sit there and look over their shoulder, like you are some kind of an idiot, who is honking for no reason, because they don’t care. And they expect you to know that.” 

Michael and John laughed. “Blimey, so it’s true,” John said and continued to laugh.

Michael moved closer to Jay and said, “So mate, tell me how do you swear in your language?” John looked at Michael and nodded, as if he wanted to ask the same thing.

Jay looked whether Malini was around. She was in the kitchen. He brought his hands together and rubbed them. It was his dream to hear foreigners swear in Bengali.  He brought his voice to a murmur, folded his leg under his thigh and said, Kuth-tar Bachcha.”   

“Koo…thaar…daa…bashaa,” Michael said. Jay thought it was amusing as it sounded like a new born was learning to speak for the first time.   

John tried to repeat what Jay had said, but when he couldn’t, he said, “So what does it mean?”

“Son of a bitch,” Jay said, lowering his head further down.

“Nice,” Michael said and tired to say it again.

“What else, what else?” John said impatiently.

Jay looked up once more to check the whereabouts of Malini, thought for a second and then said, “Thor maa suda.” When John tried to mimic Jay, his voice was rather loud. Jay moved his hands to signal to him to keep it down.

Malini came out of the kitchen and asked, “Did you say anything John?” To which John scratched his nose and said, “No, not at all,” in a nonchalant manner.

“Oh, okay,” Malini said and went back to the kitchen.

Jay gulped and looked accusingly at John. John apologized, before asking, “So, what does this mean?” He had a glint in his eyes, as if Jay was giving him sex tips. 

“Fuck your mother,” Jay said, and Michael chuckled. Jay had started to like them both. They weren’t that bad after all.

“Dinner’s ready,” Malini announced, as she came out of the kitchen with a pot in her hands, followed by her friends, carrying a vessel each.

Food was served, and everybody sat down at the table - although they had to bring an extra chair to fit seven people. Everyone served themselves first before passing the dishes along. Jay tried his best to eat with a spoon, fork and a knife, but his fish kept slipping off his plate. Malini kept her eyes on him throughout. She cleared her throat quite often to signal him to stop making a fool of himself. Finally, he picked up his plate, excused himself, and went to sit in the guest room.

Her friends wondered what was going on. Michael said, “Malini is he alright? Did we offend him in anyway?”

“Of course not, he is fine,” Malini said and continued eating. She didn’t know what else to say.

When Laura asked about Jay again, Malini got up and said she will get him.  She walked into the guest room to find Jay with grease stains on his fingers and around his mouth. He was licking each of his fingers, giving equal attention to each one of them, when he caught Malini looking at him with exasperation. She went and stood near him, her spoon still in hand.   

“Jay, how many times have I told you not to eat with your hands,” Malini said. She kept her voice low.   

“I have tried eating with a fork and a knife, but I can’t. It doesn’t even feel like I’ve had a meal,” Jay said. When he moved his hand, a morsel of rice flew off one of his fingers and fell at Malini’s feet. Jay bent down, picked up the grain and pressed it against his closed eyes, before kissing it. He kept the morsel on one side of his plate. He then said a small prayer and asked for forgiveness from the Goddess of food, “Annapoorna”, for dropping the morsel of rice on the floor. “I had forgotten how satisfying it is to eat with my own hands,” Jay added, while continuing to lick his fingers. The sound that he made while sucking at his fingers, infuriated Malini. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.    

“Oh Jay look at your hands. My friends would want to shake hands when they leave, and yours will smell.” Malini threw her hands in the air and walked out.

“He likes eating in the guest room,” she told her friends, and knew it sounded lame.

“What?” said Rachel. “I will go and get him. We are here, he should eat with us.” She got up and went to the guest room.   

Just as he was licking the back of his hand, he caught Rachel’s eyes. She stood at the doorway, amused. Jay stuck his tongue out and guided it to either side of his lips to lick any wandering morsels of fish or rice.  

She picked Jay by his elbows and guided him to the dining table. Michael and John smiled at him. Malini stopped eating and looked at him, and shook her head. “You know what guys,” Rachel said, “Jay is going to teach us how to eat with our hands.” She wiggled her fingers in the air.

“No, Rachel, guys, you really don’t have to,” Malini said. “Jay doesn’t eat with his hands usually, he was experimenting today, you know. Isn’t it jay?” She smiled sheepishly.   

“Come on. Let’s do it,” Roxanne said and kept her fork, spoon and knife aside. She looked at her hands once, before reaching for her food with parted fingers, like she was about to pick up a frog with her bare hands.

Rest of the gang did the same, much to the delight and displeasure of Jay and Malini respectively.

“Okay, relax your hands first,” Jay began, like some expert on eating with hands. “Bring your fingers together, leaving a slight gap between them,” he continued and demonstrated it to the others, who looked at him with amazement. “Then you pick up rice, fish and daal between your fingers and put the whole thing in your mouth.”

John dropped some gravy on his lap while attempting to put the lump in his mouth, while Michael couldn’t keep the food in his mouth as he burst out laughing. He spilled it on Laura who was sitting across him. She laughed and so did others. Malini forced a smile on her face. She slapped her forehead with her palm, and watched the commotion that Jay had brought about.

“This is great,” Laura said. “Just that my fingers are burning,” she said, as she licked them just as Jay had shown.

“You will get used to it,” Jay said.

As everyone washed up, and was having dessert, John said, “Malini, this is one of the best meals I’ve had in a million years.” Then he turned towards Jay and said, “Thanks to you Jay, we enjoyed it even more when we used our own hands.”  

“You bet,” Rachel said and smiled at everyone.      

Michael rubbed his stomach and said, “I don’t usually eat this much. My appetite seems rather capacious tonight. “

Roxanne burped and immediately covered her mouth. She said “Excuse me,” and laughed. “I haven’t burped in, I don’t know, ever.” She laughed some more. Rachel and Laura joined her. “It’s all the delicious food I tell you Malini.”  

Everyone hugged and shook hands and kissed on the cheek, before leaving. Malini shut the door and turned to Jay, her lips tightly shut.

“Thank you so much Jay for ruining the evening for me.” She crossed her arms, her breasts, rising and falling, amidst quick breaths.

“What!” Jay said. “I think your friends enjoyed the evening.”

“Yeah right, they just ate with their hands to amuse you. They must have thought that we are people with no culture or manners at all, and that we have come from some village in India,” she spewed.

“Excuse me! We have been eating with our hands ever since we were born. If following our customs makes us look like villagers, so be it. And I don’t think they were amusing me, they really enjoyed eating the way we do,” he said.

“Not we, you do,” Malini responded.

As she talked, he went to the dining table, picked up a fresh bowl, and served himself a large portion of the Gajar Halwa. He sat down at the table, his back toward her. She stood behind him, her arms still crossed. Then she walked towards the table, her feet thumping on the wooden floor, took hold of the serving bowl with the leftover dessert from the table and walked off. Jay looked over his shoulder and storm into the kitchen. He heard the clatter of empty vessels in the sink after being thrown from some distance. Then he heard the kitchen cabinets open and close with deliberate force.

He knew it was one of those days, so he finished his dessert and stretched himself on the couch.