Jaya and Rasa. A Love Story. Sonia Patel
a present from Neela foi. She wished Neela foi had gotten her a burgundy and gold dhoti-kurta like the one SRK wore in the film Paheli.
Jaya sighed.
Neela foi and Chander fua were staying with them for a week. Each night so far, the five of them had watched a different SRK film together. Her mother and Neela foi swooned practically every time SRK was in a scene. Jaya waited for herself to feel the same giddiness. She figured every girl should get it. In fact she even tried to will sighs of adoration at each SRK sighting.
But Jaya had a different take on SRK. It went back to the first film of his that she’d seen—Pardes. She felt connected to him, as if he were the older brother she didn’t have. Only, she wasn’t the younger sister. She was the younger brother.
Jaya stared at the orange shag carpet. She’d wanted to watch the film sprawled out on her back, the way her parents let her when they didn’t have company.
Jayshree searched her daughter’s small face. “Come on, Jaya? What do you think?”
Jaya slipped her left hand under her thigh and crossed her fingers. “Yeah, he’s handsome,” she lied.
Jayshree grinned and nodded, her expression saying, See my daughter has good taste.
Sanjay was sitting next to Jaya. “I better start looking for your SRK now, Jaya. Someone like that will be hard to find.” He chuckled as he elbowed her.
Chander fua threw his head back in laughter. Since he was Sanjay’s older cousin, it was acceptable that he join in on the matchmaking. “I’ll help. I have lots of connections,” he said, raising his eyebrow at Sanjay.
“Yaar,” Sanjay laughed. He pointed to Chander fua with an open palm, then slapped his back.
“Well, Jaya, I hope we find you someone as handsome and kind as your father. My parents did an excellent job arranging our marriage,” Jayshree said, eyeing Sanjay.
Neela foi covered her mouth and giggled. In a syrupy Gujarati accent, she said, “Jaya, you are so beautiful, like your mother. Someday you will get many offers from good-looking men.”
Jaya shifted in place on her end of the sofa.
“A toast,” Sanjay called out, holding up his crystal glass of guava juice.
The adults raised their glasses.
“Jaya?” Sanjay asked. He motioned for her to lift her glass high in the air.
Sanjay switched to Gujarati. “Chander and Neela, it’s been so nice having you visit us. Thank you for letting me run your store all these years. Because of your generosity, I’ve been able to provide Jaya with a better life than I had growing up.” He paused. He grinned at Jaya, then at Jayshree.
Jaya thought about the bedtime stories her father still told her each night. Real-life stories about growing up poor in Gujarat. Stories mixed with happy childhood escapades and difficult times of hunger and backbreaking work. She felt grateful for her life on Oahu. For her loving parents. For her father’s hard work. For her mother’s homemaking expertise.
For all the years in this old house.
Jaya loved everything about it. The single pane walls. The peeling white paint. The dusty louver windows. The small kitchen that let her mother cook the most delicious Gujarati meals. Their time together. Eating. Talking. Watching Bollywood.
Sanjay continued. “And now I’ve made more than enough money to build Jayshree’s dream house in Kahala, buy a brand-new BMW, and pay for Jaya’s entire education at Manoa Preparatory Academy. And last but not least, I’ll break ground on my first luxury condo development. Life is good. Cheers!”
Everyone cheered. Everyone except Jaya. She didn’t want to move away to Kahala.
Sanjay switched back to English. “We will be very rich, Jaya betta.” He stroked her head. “And I will find you a boy even more rich. You will never have to struggle.” He paused and kissed her forehead. Then he whispered, “Yes, yes. A rich, nice, handsome boy for my pretty Jaya.”
Jaya winced.
Pretty and beautiful should be for mum-mee.
Or Paro. Aishwarya Rai played Paro, SRK’s love interest, in Devdas. Whenever the stunning Paro graced the screen, Jaya felt a flutter in her heart. She had to squash a deep urge to sweep Paro off her feet with romantic gestures like the ones she’d seen SRK do.
Would her father ever let her marry a girl like Paro?
It was a calm day in Hau’ula, a rare thing. The flat ocean sparkled a kaleidoscope of blue. The slight breeze kept the temperature mild. Locals flooded the 7-11 to fill their beach bags with snacks and their coolers with ice and beer. The pristine roadside beach would soon be packed with happy people munching and chugging.
Rasa, Ach, and Nitya waited for their mother outside the store. For a long time, it’d only been Rasa and Ach. But then their mother had a little girl, Nitya. And four months ago, after Rasa turned ten, their mother had the baby girl, Shanti.
Ach clutched his stomach with one hand and tugged at Rasa’s shirt with the other. “Where’s Mom?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”
“She’ll be out soon.” She looked at Nitya. “Bet you can’t wait for that manapua.”
Nitya didn’t say anything.
A minute later two guys almost tripped over each other trying to be the one to hold the door open. The taller, thicker guy won. He leaned against the open door with his arms crossed, flashing a wide grin. Rasa knew right away who he was smiling at—their mother. She strolled out with baby Shanti propped on one hip. She gave the guy a big smile back. She did a subtle catwalk to her children.
Rasa frowned at the way the guy stared at her mother’s bottom. She shook her head then looked at her mother. The only thing Kalindi was carrying was their sister. “Where’s the food?” Rasa asked.
“They didn’t let me get any on credit,” Kalindi said. She switched Shanti to her other hip.
“What are we going to do? We haven’t eaten all day.”
Kalindi smiled at Rasa. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”
Right then Kalindi spotted two policemen approaching the 7-11. She held Shanti out to Rasa. “Here, take her. I think I just figured it out,” she said. “Take the kids to the beach. I’ll meet you back at the house in a few hours. I’ll have money then.”
“But Mom—”
“It’s ok. I nursed Shanti half an hour ago and there’s formula at home if you need it.”
“But—”
Kalindi was already sashaying over to the policemen.
“Is she going to ask them to borrow money?” Ach asked.
“Something like that,” Rasa said.
They watched their mother greet the policemen with cheek kisses. Kalindi stood facing them with one hand on her hip. One of the policemen slid his sunglasses onto his head. The other tucked his onto his uniform. Kalindi shifted, adjusting the front of her dress to free her cleavage. She licked her lips, then leaned over to whisper something to one of them in his ear. He smiled and then turned and said something to the other one. Now they were both smiling as they nodded at Kalindi.
“What’s she doing?” Ach asked.
“I don’t know.”
Kalindi walked away with the policemen, her hand on one of the men’s shoulder.
Ach groaned. “Where are they going?”
Rasa changed baby