A Question of Lipstick

His mother walked into the room just as he was putting on the saree. She stood there, transfixed, as she watched him adjust the it around his body. Finally, unable to stay silent, she said “What the hell are you doing, Satish?”

He blanched and looked at her, startled. Then he smiled and said, “Oh, it’s you, Mom. For a moment there, I was quite worried”. Then he turned and looked in the mirror and did a mime of preening. Then he looked back at her. “How do I look? And how’s my lipstick?” It was a bright red hue and it made his face look garish.

“Satish, is this a joke?”

“Mom, relax!” Satish grinned. “I forgot to tell you…I am playing Draupadi in our college production…rehersals start this evening”.

“Draupadi, is it?” she said, sarcastically. “How very exotic. And what’s with the lipstick, Satish? I’m sure we didn’t have lipstick in those times, no matter how advanced you think we were”.

Satish looked cross. “Don’t be flippant, Mom!” he said. “We’re presenting the entire Vastra-haran scene in a completely new light. And please…” he raised his palm to stop her before she could say anything further. “If you can’t appreciate art for art’s sake, there’s no need to come…”

“Hey! Chill!” she patted his hand, affectionately. “Of course, I’m proud of you. The show will be a grand success. I just wish you were playing some different role”

“A male character, you mean” he said, annoyed. “Jeez! We claim to be living in an open society and if I’m wearing a saree and a lipstick, I’m what, girly? And see – I’m not even using that other word, which is still taboo, though there is a legal sanction to it, see?”

“Satish, please” she said. “You’re overreacting. I didn’t mean it that way, of course”. She took his hand and gently stroked it.

He pulled his hand away, still a little sulky. He was touchy about anything concerned with the play. And especially about the role that he was going to play in it. He was about to tick her off some more, when he looked at the time and suddenly gave a strangled scream. “Look at the time! I’m standing here arguing with you; I should be on my way. Bye Mom! Love you!” he threw her a flying kiss, his earlier annoyance forgotten and practically flew from the room.

She stood there for a moment, shaking her head. Then her demeanour changed, as she glanced at the lipstick. She had a sense of déjà vu, a sense of misalignment; she quickly sat down on the nearest chair, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. The room was spinning and she felt that she was choking, but then again, she was not and now she felt she was falling and falling and falling……

-00-

It had been two years ago. It had been Mrs. Raheja’s party. A welcome change from the kitty parties, which happened almost every day now. An afternoon chill-out session of the rich-and-loving-it crowd. The men discussed politics and stocks and cricket and business. Some business deals were made. When women weren’t around, they also discussed some gauche topics, albeit with a sophisticated accent. The men knew their women didn’t merely discuss the latest shopping offers. The teenagers hung about, boys eyeing the girls and vice versa and a few of them, making out, not necessarily with their current beau. The setting was just right for some of them, to have a short, steamy make-out session, followed by mutually agreed Alzheimer’s later. There were also a couple of Page 3 reporters, being plied with endless tequila shots. Card games indoors and tennis games on the lawn, were arranged. Food and drinks kept coming and getting consumed. A small musical band was hired and they were playing something in the right earnest. Nobody was listening, as long as some tune played out in the backdrop. All in all, a good time, a good afternoon.

Kumud Savla loved it. She had brought Satish along, but he hated such shindigs, as he called them. He had other friends, who weren’t so rich with the money but who made up for it, with intelligence and vocabulary. He craved their company. Those friends weren’t welcome in such places and would have been bored in minutes. “They’re at the beach, Mama!” he protested. But then he came anyway, he knew how important these parties were for his Mom. And he knew his parents used these parties to take a break from each other…

Kumud Savla flaunted her new dazzling jewellery and there were envious looks and honeyed gasps of “Oh Kumud!” and “Wow! That must have cost Jatin a bomb!”….followed by rolled eyes and surreptious glances at each other, mouthing “Here we go again”. She floated like a gazelle, or so she thought, from one fawning admirer to another, Jatin, after all, was a financier, and she was mindful of her looks and her figure, mindful of the rules of the game. You flirted and were flirted with. It was all in good taste and good fun. Sometimes one went a little further…but that wasn’t a comfort zone of thinking. They all had stories to swap and a couple of them swapped other things as well. Kumud had some boundaries, though.

Kumud was mindful of all these things… and after an hour, mindful of one drink too many and the urge to use the restroom…

She walked to the basement with an unsteady gait, a pretty figure gracefully ignoring the envious looks of her lady friends and equally gracefully basking in the wolfish stares of their husbands. The basement was a long corridor that tapered off to two exits, Male and Female. Out of the male exit, came a nice, clean shaven guy.

Ratan Khemka was…well…he was male inclined. Everybody knew that. Hushed whispers. Stifled giggles. Risque stories. His spotlessly clean well shaven face, lean supple body, white teeth, neatly combed hair, all of this would have been ideal qualities in a man, appreciated by any woman…except that he shared the same perspective that they did. His father was a mining tycoon and therefore social circles did not abhor him, though his father did, in private, indeed, such deviant behaviour wasn’t unheard of, it was quite fashionable too, in some circles. What was unheard of, was the careless flaunting that Khemka did.

Ordinarily, Kumud would have given him a nod and a pleasant smile and he would have flashed her his million dollar smile and they both would have continued on their respective way. But today was different. And what really surprised her was the way he reacted when he saw her. His pupils actually dilated and she saw veritable fear in his eyes, as if he was guilty of a horrible crime. He hastened his pace and desperately shimmered past her, averting his eyes; she noted his shortness of breath with increasing alarm. What happened? Was it….? She was deprived of thought…

Then another male stepped out of the men’s room. Not clean shaven. Not tingly fresh. And yet, someone with an impish, boyish charm, that she was proud of. Satish Savla. Her son. But it was a very different Satish that she saw right now. Satish in a state of shock, Satish, with his eyes tinged with red, as if from crying, Satish with the shaking hands. Satish, the way he might look, after being through some trying experience. Then Satish took one look at his mother and he blanched.

In a moment, she had made the connection. It was as if her world came apart, at that moment. As she opened her mouth, as if to scream, he rushed at her and put his hand across her mouth, stopping her. “No! No!” he said. “Please don’t freak out, Mom! It’s all right! It’s all right!” He literally pushed her away from the corridor, dragging her outside. Fortunately, there was no one outside that corridor.

She tried to free her hands, frantically. Her heart refused to dwell on the four letter R-word, but her mind was putting it forth, into her consciousness. Was that the case? But then, Satish was walking properly. He seemed all right, physically. Was this going on for some time now? Did she just find out something that was already happening? Was he…. She could not bring herself to even think about it.

She was gasping for breath; she steadied herself, calmed herself. She was known for self possession and control; it wouldn’t do to show any weakness, now.

She turned around and stared at her son accusingly and searchingly, as if staring for some signs that she had missed, the first time around. The boy before her suddenly seemed to be a stranger; the years of innocence peeled off him.. She had a brief glimpse into irreversible adulthood…

“How long has this been going on?” she snapped. Not the right question, but nevertheless, it was all she could think of, at the moment.

Satish reddened. “I’m sorry, Mom!” he said. “But I…I just….” He stammered. He was still shaking and shivering, a little foam coming out of his mouth, eyes a bit glassy and unfocussed…

Kumud pulled herself together. What was done was done and there was nothing she could say or do, that would change it. Satish was shivering and stammering and clearly terrified of her reaction…and she knew he would be really terrified of his Dad’s reaction. She had to compose herself. The recriminations could come later, but Satish needed support now. Immediate support, before he fell apart. At first, she thought it had been assault, but assault victims didn’t rush forward to prevent others from screaming. She didn’t understand his shock and reddish eyes, maybe it was a showdown, maybe even a break-up. But it wasn’t assault.

And she guessed that most of his present reaction was seeing her out there and the dawning realization in her eyes, that had caused him to cringe. He was ashamed of what had happened. Ashamed, not outraged. Ashamed, not fearful. Scared, not about what had happened, but that she knew…

“It’s all right!” she whispered, as she hugged him tight, bringing a soothing quality to her voice; she had been through a couple of advisory sessions in the past, for her friends’ kids, who had confided some really unpleasant secrets with her. She was only thankful that Satish did not need to use anybody else. “I’m not going to tell Daddy” she continued. Atleast not now, she said to herself.

Satish calmed down. He had been freaking out, he realized. The pressure of the situation had got to him.

They hugged. Mother and son, a tender moment of warmth and understanding. And in that moment, Kumud realized how hard it was, for people who had such alternative tastes and who had to survive in a society that described itself as open minded, but was hardly so. Thank God, there was no one around, she thought

She didn’t ask him what happened. She didn’t need to know the sordid details. She just needed to let him know that she was there for him. And that she would always be there for him. With every piece of her breaking heart…

-00-

It had been two years now. Their friendship had only grown stronger. And Kumud did not confide in Jatin. That relationship had remained a husband-wife one, without maturing into a deep friendship…

Satish had been careful, thereafter. He had been admonished by his mother and he knew that his mother’s love had come up trumps. But others would not be so forgiving. So he was careful although his mother knew… He was careful for her sake.

But one could not be careful over and over again. An impulse, a flight of fancy, a moment of desire and caution is thrown to the winds…

And two years later, she walked in on him, waering that saree and applying her lipstick…

-00-

The Draupadi Vastra-haran was a grand success. The scenes were presented with an artistic flair and as a result, there was only a discerning crowd, which meant that it was not a commercial success. But then, it was never meant to be one. These simple-living high-thinking types did not think too much about the cash registers. Some of them had plenty, anyways. 

Mr. and Mrs. Savla attended the show. They applauded. Kumud was apprehensive about Jatin’s reaction to his son’s role as Draupadi in the play, but he was cool about it. Enthusiastic, in fact. “Its just a play!” he said. “I’m proud of the way he can depict a woman, so realistically!”… Kumud shuddered, inwardly. She glanced at her husband; he had only animated delight on his face. That’s when she came to her decision.

High time.

-00-

The next day, Kumud caught hold of her son as he was going out for his morning walk. “Let’s walk together.” She said. “We never do anything together..”

Satish rolled his eyes, amused, but went with her, anyway.

After walking for about five minutes in silence, Satish looked at his mother, with a wry expression in his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, Mom?” he said. “Tell me. Don’t keep it in!”

Kumud looked at him, apprehensively. Like all others of his age, Satish was impulsive and impatient. She didn’t know how he would react, when she told him. But the time had come, now.

She could not face this alone.

“Satish, I’m going to have to break this to your father.” she said, gently. “He needs to know.”

Satish stopped in his tracks. He knew that something of this sort was coming; sooner or later, that incident at Mrs. Raheja’s party was bound to manifest itself.

“I see” he said.

“No, you don’t” she burst out. Then, with an effort, she calmed down, again. “You don’t understand.” She said. “Your father needs to know. He will know, in a few years, anyway.”

“Oh, I see! Because I won’t get married, is that it? Is that what you think?”

“Satish…..”

He interrupted her. “Stop, already!” he said. “Enough with the patronizing tone and the moralistic posturing! We all know what’s going to happen. Nothing. In a few years’ time, one of Dad’s business associates will get together with him for a drink. And maybe talk about a business association. And then his daughter and I will be hitched. Maybe she’ll tell me about her boyfriends, or maybe she’ll pretend to be all nice and innocent and I have to pretend to have the wool over my eyes…”

Kumud stood there, silent. There was nothing she could say. Satish spoke from what he had seen; he knew how things stood in this upper echelon community of her friends. Of course, things would be hushed up. There was no other way. She remembered her own marriage. Of course, Jatin hadn’t been an idiot, but she had told him only about “one broken, one-sided romance”….

One romance, indeed….

“All I’m saying is” she said, when he had calmed down, “That I’ll break the news to him, gently. And I’ll be there, don’t worry. He won’t hit you, you’re a big lad now.” She ended with a ghastly, bright smile, which fooled nobody.

“I think you’re drunk” he muttered. Then he shook his head and seemed to come to a decision. “All right” he said. “We’ll have it your way. But I’m the one who’s going to speak to Dad, not you.”

“What?” she exclaimed. “You!”

“Yes, me.” Satish squared his shoulders. “I might as well face the music.” He said. “I’m not going to spend my life, apologizing for who I am. I just won’t.”

Kumud was perplexed, at first. Satish was terrified of his father. However, recently, he seemed to have acquired a backbone, a little late actually, when compared to other teenagers, and Jatin too, seemed to have mellowed down. She knew that if she refused, Satish would only read some conspiracy in it and end up with further infantile accusations. No, she had to let him have his way on this.

Maybe it was for the best…

“Ok, you moot the topic. But I’ll be there to-“

“No!” Satish cut her, mid-sentence. “I don’t want you there. I want to know what his reaction will be. I want to face this one, alone. Don’t worry Mom, I’ll be fine…”

Kumud wasn’t too convinced about this. Inwardly, she may have been relieved, having been spared the ordeal of revelation.

“When will you do this?” she whispered.

“Today evening…”

She swallowed.

“All the best!” she said.

What would Jatin say? She whispered to herself…

-00-

It was raining heavily, that night. Kumud was in the beauty parlour down the street, preparing for a wedding she had to attend, the next day. And as a useful excuse to stay away. Jatin was drinking whisky and Scotch in the living room.

Satish entered the room. He had been standing outside for some time, debating, thinking of the exact words to say. He didn’t want to sound defensive, nor did he want to go into attack. This was going to be the most difficult conversation of his life. His father and mother were poles apart, on almost everything. But he did love them both.

“Dad!”

Jatin turned. Satish came into the room, hesitantly. Some would say he was drunk a little, but it wasn’t that evident.

“What is it?”

Satish took a deep breath. This was going to be tough, but he had to say it. The events of two years past came flashing back to him. The shock. The shame. Reeling outside and bumping into his Mother. Her reaction. Her trauma. And how she bravely endured it, bravely accepted the inevitable. It wasn’t fair to her. But then, when was life ever fair?

It had been too much. But now enough was enough…

Satish came closer. Jatin put aside his newspapers and his whisky and stared intently at his son.

“I’m tired of covering for you, Dad! When are you going to summon the courage to tell Mom?.......”