The Gamechangers

Author's note

The story is based in India, consequently the nuances in relationships are different from the Western world. Still, there are a lot of similarities. There are words that could be unfamiliar to the readers. I have tried to include some minor explanations.

Writing non-erotic material is akin to hara-kiri. While the readers are gnashing their teeth and frantically searching for the juicy sections, the author silently suffers the delightfully slow painful death involving the entrails in pure Japanese style.

But practice makes a man perfect. The pain goes down as tolerance develops.

This short story is under the 'non-erotic' section. I am trying to convince myself that escapades of life are no less erotic.

*****

The Bungalow

The full family was on vacation. The bungalow, perched on the hilltop was a treat. When viewed from an angle, it seemed prepared to topple over right into the abyss if someone cared to give a decent push. But it stood there steadfastly since the British times and never ever tumbled.

Getting all four of us together was difficult and the notice was truly short. Still, things fell into place and here we were. We had three clear days of vacation plus two days of travel, up and down. Reaching the place by car in itself was fun and the view was astoundingly beautiful.

My husband promptly set up his old camera and started clicking. My freshly turned eighteen-year-old son inspected the contents of the mini-bar while his elder sister checked the internet connectivity. The broad smiles on their face conveyed a deep contentment.

The lawn in front of the bungalow was seated on a ledge, nicely encircled by a white wooden rail and a green bench facing the awesome spectacle. The mountain range with its jagged snow-clad features looked menacingly close. My son enthusiastically shouted aloud and the resulting echo confirmed the proximity.

It was nearing sundown and the snow had turned to a vivid orange. My husband showed me a picture he had just clicked and had it been some other time I would have bet that the colour had been photoshopped.

This ethereal beauty of the trident 'Trishul' peak was slowly encompassing our senses and even my son had become quieter. I looked at my husband; he was standing by the rail grabbing it with both his hands and leaning over dangerously. He looked perturbed.

The tea was served. The prodigal son summarily rejected the idea of drinking benign potions while the bar offered better prospects. He longingly looked at his father who smiled while my daughter offered a scathing look, enough to restrain the errant young man, for the time being.

The night was cool and the dinner was sumptuous. The tiredness of the long journey coupled with the flaming red chicken curry was devastating. The food that initially appeared extreme in quantity was wiped out in ten minutes flat. The poor waiter had to scurry repeatedly to the kitchen and bring back chapattis (a kind of Indian bread).

The interiors of the bungalow were equally impressive. The entire place was wooden with massive glass windows. An influential office colleague had arranged it for us.

And I, was sponsoring the trip.

FART was the acronym we played our games with. It represented Fulki, our daughter; Avik, my husband; Robin, our son and myself, Tanaya. During vacations and trips, we transformed ourselves into serious card players. We played 'rummy' with a double pack and complicated rules. Records of accumulated points were meticulously maintained, ostensibly to be converted into hard cash and paid at the end of the trip. Initially, we were solemn about honest payments but gradually the stakeholders (read losers) felt that there was hardly any point to pay back Avik, all the time.

Avik hardly ever challenged such unanimous decisions.

We settled down to play and the rules were reinforced, for the nth time. Fulki, the primary financial offender, instructed all of us to wholeheartedly commit to payment in cash, at the end of the game. As to the terminology called 'the end,' there was a slight bit of confusion. Was it to be calculated on a 'day to day' basis; at the end of the trip, or the 'cumulative end' of all pending emoluments since time immemorial.

We (again, the losers) decided that such 'minor problems' should not hinder the spirit of the game. Money was never a factor amongst us 'elite.' Avik, as usual smiled enigmatically. He looked thoughtful; something was bothering him! But that was him!

Unfortunately, the game turned out to be a drag; probably the fatigue of the long journey was telling on us. After three rounds, Fulki got up, exasperated and moved towards the window in irritation. Robin was fiddling with his mobile. Soon, she returned, her eyes sparkling!

She proposed a new game.

The Game

"Let's play a game," she said, "each of us will narrate one of his wishes. It could be anything; dark, funny or even atrocious. And, the rest of the three will interrogate him; ask questions and get to the bottom of it. There is no embargo on questions, anything would go. To make it interesting, marginal deviations would be allowed. In the end, we would see whose wish was the most workable and who just spoke through the hat. But the answers must be honest, okay?"

Robin looked at her balefully and snorted. She ignored the interruption and continued earnestly laying down the 'rules and regulations.' I thought that the idea was somewhat novel and deserved a try. Something was better than nothing.

"Let's try!" I said.

Robin turned back and said, "the moment I say something, you will all jump, I know."

Fulki was up to the challenge, "Ah! The volunteer! Are you prepared for the post-mortem after you have said your piece?"

"Of course, I am." He was terse.

"Okay! Shoot." She said.

"I want to take my girlfriend to Diu for a week."

He had just joined the hostel 6 months back. Avik looked up sharply and smiled. For a moment, Fulki was stumped and then quickly recovered.

"You have a girlfriend??? Quick work."

"Yes."

"Who would be that stupid? Hope it is a girl!"

"Not important. Yes, a girl."

"Okay. Why do you want to go?"

"I want to know her better."

"Why can't you know her better from wherever you are? Why do you want to go elsewhere?"

"I want to go. It is my wish."

"That's no explanation."

"You have no right to ask that. Do I ask, where are you going?"

"I am earning and independent. I can do whatever I like. Not you!" There was a malicious tone in her voice.

Sensing a blowout between them, I intervened, trying to pacify, "Robin, going off with your female friend is not very acceptable. There are issues. The girl's parents may object."

"They have no problems. She's German."

"Oh! German!" I was short for words.

I still tried to reason, "Is this the time for you to be in relationships, you should rather be concentrating on your studies? There will be enough time for all these later on."

Robin pointed at Fulki and said, "She said I could say anything."

"Right, that's fair," Fulki said. "And we are interrogating you. Dad, do you want to ask him something?"

Avik looked up and said calmly, "Who is sponsoring your trip?"

With a faint smile on his lips, Robin muttered, "You."

"I humbly refuse," Avik muttered back.

"LOL!!" Fulki doubled up with laughter.

Robin shut up, the first round was over. He sulked for some time. More than us, he was upset with his father who simply snuffed out the flame of hope that he was harbouring.

Fulki, the perpetrator of the idea volunteered for the next round. We looked at her. She was 24 years old, working and busy. Taking out time for this vacation was difficult for her. Her career graph was an erect pole.

She measured her words carefully and said, "I don't want to ever get married."

Robin was unimpressed and caustic, "Who is marrying you, BTW?"

"No one, because I won't." She replied calmly.

"Today you are saying this. Tomorrow, you will yourself get someone home and mom will be jumping." Robin persisted.

"No, she won't. It's my life."

Sensing a ray of hope, I interjected "Ful, is there someone? We don't have serious objections except for a few routine things."

Fulki was prompt to answer, "I know that, stupid objections. But I am not into this marriage thing at all."

This was not surprising. Knowing Fulki, she had all those stellar qualities most disliked by every prospective mother in law. She had no interest in any household work and her room was a perpetual mess. So, we knew.

Still, I tried, "How would you live your life all alone? What about children? The later it is, more is...you know the problems."

"You don't need to get married to have children. I am going to adopt."

It was so irritating and the smile on Avik's face was making it worse.

"Are you just going to smile or ask her something?" I asked obliquely.

He at once stopped smiling, thought for a moment and asked, "Ful, would you agree that you have problems with social skills."

"No, never! I have so many friends. Not like you."

"Okay, okay. Let me frame it this way. Do you think that your complete disinterest in any household skills may raise some red flags in your prospective relationships?"

Fulki was quiet this time, "Maybe. I think it could, but..."

"So, do you think that's an issue you don't want to address by just skipping marriage?"

"Yes, that's a reason."

"Okay, what do your peers say?"

"Those stupid fellows are getting married by the hordes. It's my choice and I am not getting married." She said with irritation.

Avik sighed, "Fine with me. Have your way but kindly DO NOT adopt a child. You might forget the baby in a bus or something."

Robin launched into a mirthless laughter and continued until he got a kick from an enraged Fulki.

College Days

I and Avik had met in college; he was two years my senior. He was short, unassuming, and an introvert in the classical sense. While I was bubbly and liked to mix around, he was the proverbial turtle who forever remained in his shell. I often noticed, him sitting alone, reading something. When in the company of friends, he mostly listened.

As freshers, we were the centre of widespread attractions and boys were constantly hitting on us. Avik literally had no chance of penetrating the dense cordon of our admirers. Anyway, none of us really bothered much about him. I often caught him staring at me though he never had the courage to come up and introduce himself.

The college socials were on and the freshers were the stars. The program was packed with songs and dances and the 'oohs & aahs' made us into instant celebrities! We were typically coached by the first years and our performances were raunchy enough to ignite a fire in even the 'un-impressionable hearts.'

After we finished, the faculty walked in for the second part of the show, a soberer one. By then we had congregated near the stage and the show was on. In a short while, we realised that the college had super talents and we were just a prelude to the good things to come.

Finally, the anchor, a stunning beauty in her own rights announced the 'song finale' but did not mention the name of the artist. Her introduction indicated that she clearly was smitten. The person walked in and many of us simply gasped. It was Avik, walking with his head down and a nervous smile pasted on his face. He stood at the mike and after moments of hesitation started singing.

I did not remember when it finished. What I remembered was that the Dean himself was climbing the stage and embracing him. The crowd completely went berserk.

For the first time, I realised that girls were equally adept at whistling. Avik was smothered by so many people. He looked perfectly embarrassed and kept looking for someone in the crowd. I wanted to congratulate him but this time, I could not penetrate the crowd.

After some time, I quietly left the place and started towards the hostel. And he was standing right there, under the tree. We both hesitated and he blushed and stammered.

"You sang very well," was all he could say.

"That's cow dung compared to yours," I replied.

"Cow dung? No, no, no, no," he shook his head violently, incensed.

"Yes, it is. You never mentioned that you could sing so well?" I said in an accusatory tone as if the fault was his!

He turned beet red.

That was 30 years back and today I am 47 and Avik is 49; married for 25 years. Middle-aged; children grown up and in college, away from home.

Time has not changed him much, still uncomfortable when people were around. But, occasionally, when he emerged out of his shell, he was truly spectacular. But that was not too often.

He agreed with me on all counts except one. He genuinely believed that my singing was NOT 'cow dung '.

Back to the Game

The game had caught on and only we two were left. All looked expectantly at each other. Avik conveniently was looking out of the window. Rob looked at me and I signalled him towards his father. Avik was still looking out into the darkness. Finding nothing of note in the body of impenetrable black, he was forced to turn his head inwards and face three pairs of piercing eyes goring into him.

He feigned tiredness by way of a huge yawn but the children were relentless in their pursuit. In the end, he gave in. He put his head down and after what appeared to be an immeasurably long time said, "I want to see what happens if I put my name on a matrimonial website."

This announcement was met with reactions of different audio-visual hues. Robin gasped in amazement while Fulki arched her eyebrows while a sly smile played on the corners of her lips. I was simply thinking about the genesis of this idea.

The idea was simply astounding. Why should he even think about such a thing? Suddenly, I remembered something that I had just not put my mind to. Of late he looked much fitter, much better groomed; younger. He had been spending money on himself for the last six months or so. Obviously, he was going through a mid-life crisis.

Under the collective glare, Avik looked uncomfortable, "What? It's a joke! Okay, I will say something else."

Fulki was the first to recover. She suddenly looked thoughtful, diminishing her chirpy self and looked at her father with a peculiar gaze.

Finally, I stepped in and said, "The rules are clear. We can take his viva. Maybe, he has already identified your new mother."

That eased the atmosphere. Even Avik smiled out of his discomfiture.

Robin blurted out, "Dad, you gone crazy or what?"

Fulki interrupted, "It is a wish, not a real thing, you ass!"

Robin scowled at her.

"Okay, let me ask." Fulki was enjoying her status as an examiner.

"Why are you planning to put in this matrimonial ad?" She giggled.

"I want to see if anyone responds or not."

"What is your age?"

"Why? Okay, 49."

"You sure, someone will respond?"

"No harm in thinking. Isn't it?"

At this point, I butted in and said, "What is the age group you are expecting. Young, old, mature, what?"

"Young," he said smilingly.

"That's the spirit Dad," my son hooted enthusiastically.

Fulki once again assumed the role of the inquisitor, "What makes you think that a young woman would choose a middle-aged man? Have you looked at yourself?"

I felt the last statement was a bit below the belt. But Avik as usual did not react. He was still standing by the window and I noticed a trimmer him, much fitter that had escaped my attention. He, in fact looked younger! But my thoughts were disrupted by Avik's reply to Fulki.

"By looking at your attitude," he seemed to be enjoying.

"My attitude? How?" Fulki was confused.

Avik smiled, "there would be at least few young girls who would be interested in comforts of life that I could easily provide. I have a house, a reasonable job and good money. She will not have a young husband starting his career at the bottom of the ladder. No day to day skirmishes; no tantrums of in-laws; no housework to do; there would be servants.

She will be the boss's wife straightaway; she won't have to struggle to rise up the social ladder. She will have a company car to travel, a doting husband though trifle older at her beck and call and the best hotels to stay in while on vacations. Of course, she will definitely have to let go a few things, but overall...you know what I mean?

Actually, with your kind of attitude, you should be seriously contemplating such an option in life."

"No, I will not," she retorted vehemently but not angrily.

Then she realised the import of the statement and said, "Dad!! Not a bad idea at all!"

For a moment, even I felt that avoiding the struggles of life may actually be a sensible idea. Too much of scuffle kills.

I was tempted to ask a question but hesitated. Should I, or shouldn't I? What the heck! It was a just query! I sharply looked at Avik and said, "If someone actually responds. What will you do?"

He suddenly looked disconcerted by my question, thought for a moment, and said in a quiet voice, "fantasies never come true." And he walked to the window once again and looked outside. Did he look worried? His turn was over.

And my turn had arrived. I had butterflies in my stomach.

The Final Round

This was a point of no return. Avik seemed in deep thoughts or was he simply disinterested? Why?

I never noticed that both the children by now were flanking me and looking expectantly at my face. Obviously, they wanted me to carry forward the game I would not be allowed to spring an anti-climax.

Fulki eyed me with expectation, "Mom! This better be better than Dad's!!"

The game was on and I wanted to keep it brief.

"I would like to get married again?"

Avik gave a start and looked at me. His eyes, asking silent questions.

Robin was in raptures, jumping with glee. Even Fulki was startled by my admission. For her, it was a great finale.

But it was Robin who took over, "Guys, let's not muck it up. I think it is a brilliant wish, fantastic! There are so many possibilities." Fulki looked at him with questioning eyes. For a moment, under the glare, Robin appeared nonplussed. But he was quick to regain his composure.

"Well, since Fulki is not getting married and Dad has not yet put a matrimonial ad; and I am debarred from happiness, mom is the perfect template for a marriage." Nowadays, Robin always spoke in 'templates.'

"Right, what are your 'must haves' in the groom." Robin asked.

"Dark, handsome and definitely tall," I answered.

Fulki cooed in, "Too good, Look at Robin, what are you, five feet nothing? Pathetic."

"I am five six and it isn't my fault that I am short." Robin retorted. Their Dad looked up. I was five four.

"Mom, what else," Fulki asked while jumping around to avoid the deadly blows from Robin?

"Someone easy to speak to; one who doesn't act like a mouni baba (the silent yogi)," I volunteered looking at my husband from the corner of my eyes.

"Forget Dad," Robin said. "What else mom?"

"Who will give me time and not bring home his office," I added.

"Mom, the concept is quality time, not quantity." Fulki was a bit for her Dad.

"Okay, what kind of marriage do you want?" Fulki enquired.

"Three days, plenty of people, all processes, ladies sangeet (music), Bollywood style choreographed dances, gifts, band baja everything." I gushed.

"I will set up the menu. But what will Dad do?" Robin chimed in.

"He can get married the same day, same mandap (a kind of temporary marriage area). He only has to expedite his matrimonial advert!" I suggested.

"Hmmm. Interesting. Dad hasn't yet finalised anyone. What about you?" Fulki asked.

"Mom, please choose a good name. Not the routine ones." Robin requested.

I was about to suggest a name and before I could answer, Avik spoke quietly from the corner of the room.