Mimosa with Samosa, Manisha (Part-6)

The whole night I sat in a hospital couch and kept dreaming that Jignesh will come to me, and apologize for his behavior. That he would kiss my worries away and want to rebuild life. My phone rang, and woke me up, and there I was, putting on a happy face for a client forgetting all my worries in life. It was Mr. Iyer, wanting to talk more about his house, and his plans to buy a casa in the caza. There is no Mrs. Iyer. He is a divorcee. There are no junior Iyers to live in the house. This client of mine is a Director at some semi-conductor company that he also founded, wants to buy a six bedroom mansion overlooking a golf course. He is preapproved for a very large sum and if he buys for that, my commission might just help me get out of Jignesh and his life, forever.

I always thought of every commission as something I would be able to use for my new life. But the money is never enough, and I never move out. One of my client was a single mom, and she narrated to me how she couldn’t take it anymore one day, and moved out of the house, eight months pregnant with only clothes on her back and nowhere to go. I lack that courage and conviction.

On the other hand, if I had some spine, I would have had a happy family like my sisters-in-law. None of them work, they all have kids older than me, but have always avoided mummyji and paapaji and their intrusion in their lives. Their husbands support them I guess, unlike Jignesh who feels that it is his duty to take care of his parents who cared for him when he was young. Which I agree also, but it becomes too much when he lets them treat me like their slave, ordering the menu for lunch and dinner, and taking calls from my clients. I wish Jignesh cared for me for all the care I take of the family. He lives an aloof life. But, knowing him, he won’t. Either I have to live like this, or walk out.

I set up an appointment with Iyer on early Saturday morning so that I can be home in time to serve breakfast. So, sometimes I wonder what would happen if I were to behave like Vani. Leave everything as it is and go to work, and not bother to clean up until the cleaning lady shows up. Stink the kitchen with dishes to do, throw around the pillows in the house, keep the bed unmade. Shekhar is a very good husband. Vani is very lucky to have him in her life. I wish she cared for him more. But then, he doesn’t seem to complain. So is Neena. Even with her obsessive cleaning habits, she hasn’t driven away Shri. He loves her so much and respects her opinion on everything unlike me who has agreed to be a doormat willingly and regret sometimes.

The phone rings again, and it’s Mr. Iyer.

“Hello Mr. Iyer”
“Hello Mona, drop that Mr and Iyer and just call me R. Makes life easier”
He took the liberty of dropping Manisha and making a Mona out of it without my permission and I am not complaining. He is Mr. Moneybags who will rescue me from this low life. Not that money buys you courage, but money just makes you confident.

Mr. Iyer wants me to send the details of the properties so that can do his own research. Meaning plug the address on google, and go to redfin, zillow, ziprealty and check the price it sold for last, price the neighbors are selling for, and the price drop in the zip code. He will also map it, and see how far it is from golf course, and what the views will be. South Indian, he doesn’t want a South facing entrance. He would want a study facing South though. He will also check on the county’s website the property tax and melloroos, and call the HOA to check the monthly amount.

If he is like that techie couple I showed houses last winter, he will also scan Robert Shiller’s charts and check if the price index is right for the city, and tell me if it will fall further. With all that knowledge, they should just go ahead and get a license themselves. But they still want me to approve their decision and handle the sale. Easy for me in a way. No one to blame that the “realtard” did it. They just signed wherever asked. Like the subprime victims tell the media. As if we were holding a gun on their head to sign on the escrow papers. They wanted something, and someone gave it to them, we were just middle men. When tables turned, we are being blamed by both the parties. There is nothing we can do too except lay low and ignore what’s going on. There is still enough money and people to keep us in the business.

Madhuri is sleeping peacefully like a child, showing no strains of the emotional toll for the past few days. I am helping her, supporting her but still she has alienated me. Guess I should have gotten involved with all this talk a little early. I didn’t have any clue that the geek wannabe would pull this on me so fast. But I am glad we resolved it. At least she didn’t pull a Bristol Palin and have the baby. With the boyfriend, his visitation, his parents’ intrusion, it would have been too messy. Only people with power can handle that. Not mere mortals like Jignesh and I.

Sometimes I think I am nagging Jignesh. I think I drive him out every time he comes to me. I take out the anger I have for his parents on him. In my mind, it is his responsibility that he dumped on me, and doesn’t even support me, or admire me for what I do to hold this family together. If I complain, he asks me to resolve it any how I want to. I just want him to tell me that he understands my pains. Is that so hard to do? Just a hug at the end of the day, and a kiss, and little whisper in my ears that he loves and understands my plight? I have never hugged him and told him that I admire the way works his ass off every day to let five of us enjoy good life. If taking care of the house is my forte, bringing the bacon should be his. I just never felt the necessity to admire anything in there. That’s all. But I do feel bad that I have alienated him from our lives just like I do to his parents. It’s just a live in relation of convenience for everyone. I should have told Jignesh about Madhuri and showed him that he is a part of us, as much as he is part of his parents. May be I wasn’t being too fair also. I breathe a sigh and go out to look for Jignesh, and I see him walk in two coffees in hand, and all I want to do is give him a hug, and unload the sorrow of my heart.