The Marble Table

By Bhavna Jain

‘My child is going to leave me,’ Mrs. Sheth’s voice wobbled as she spoke the words leaning

into the bedroom’s wall gently. Mrs. Sheth was a healthy woman with a strong bone structure.

You could tell that in her youth, she must’ve been a beauty. She wore large diamonds on her

ears and gold on her fingers, a voluptuous bindi, had a big set of hair, and large lips. Yet in that

moment, she looked weak. Her head tilted to one side as she wiped the tear from her cheek.

Twinkle, who had been busy in the living room looking after the guests to the best of her ability,

stopped in the midst of serving them and began to walk towards her mother, seeing her

vulnerable state. But Dolly aunty, Twinkle’s to-be mother-in-law, was quick to rush to her,

consoling her almost immediately. ‘You can’t cry like that and become weak in this moment.

This is your daughter’s house, she is not going anywhere, you needn’t worry at all, she is like

my daughter now’, she said reassuring her.

Dolly aunty walked Mrs. Sheth to the bed where all the children were sprawled comfortably,

fitting into each other’s spaces like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Shoving them inside and

destroying their little arrangement, Dolly aunty made room for Mrs. Sheth to sit. A few of the

little ones fussed about the lack of space and slowly began to make their way off the bed, when

Keshav, the groom-to-be, walked in and immediately began shooing the children off. I could

never tell whether they liked him or not. He had a certain way to tick them off while also

maintaining an admirable line of humour. His youthful energy was contagious, and he had a

way with words, using which he got away with just about anything, from teasing toddlers

learning to walk to senior and ailing uncles unable to walk. As his neighbourly sister, I had

seen him grow from a young mischievous boy to becoming a responsible member of the Mehta

home. Like the entire Mehta family, he spoke loudly, and now, so did his fiancée, Twinkle.

I liked going to their house. At any given moment you would find at least four pairs of shoes

outside their door. Dolly aunty loved having people over, fussing over what they would like to

eat, making innovative combinations of sharbat, and trying new recipes of hot nashta. There

was never a dull moment here, always pulsating with people, always alive. As neighbours, we

had an open-door policy, and whenever Dolly aunty needed extra platform space to make rotis,

an additional gas burner, or extra storage, she would without thinking make her way to our

house. Inevitably, we would get invited to whatever occasion they were celebrating, and by

now, we knew all their family and extended family. Despite having a landline and two cell

phones for each member, we would get calls on our cell numbers because theirs were always

busy. I jokingly called their house the telephone exchange.

Now, with Keshav bhaiya set to marry Twinkle, the house was especially busy. The way

Twinkle was integrated into the family and the routine, it was hard to tell they weren’t already

married. She would often be found cleaning the glass cabinet, cupboards, and kitchen cabinets.

‘It doesn’t matter if the house is small, it should be clean,’ she would say, and Dolly aunty

could only bless her stars.

‘No, no, of course your Mamaji from Baroda will have to be called. Your Mamaji is our

Mamaji. We don’t want to offend anyone. This is a function of both our houses, it doesn’t come

every day,’ Dolly aunty said to Mrs. Sheth as she expressed concern about the number of guests

that were being invited from the bride’s side.

Twinkle had taken to cleaning the dining table next and like a good neighbour, I decided to

help out. One by one she handed me the pickle jars as I wiped them clean. Then she cleaned

the table, and I handed the jars back to her. ‘This dining table is too small for all this to be kept

here, let me try to find a better place for this,’ she said, as I laid out the jars.

In the meanwhile, it was time for Dolly aunty’s temple visit, which she made daily after

finishing the household chores. The responsible daughter-in-law that Twinkle was, she

volunteered to drive her there. Dolly aunty was flattered and even attempted to tell her to take

it easy. This was her routine and getting a rickshaw would be easy, she justified. But Twinkle

insisted and I tagged along. I held Dolly aunty’s things while Dimple brought the car around

to the gate. It was refreshing to see someone so focused on the task at hand. All the while she

drove, she kept Dolly aunty engaged in conversation. ‘So, mummy, Keshav was telling me you

want to sell this car? Why would he want to sell it, I don’t know. It drives so smoothly.’

She took a turn while Dolly aunty spotted some fruits needed for the home.

‘Anyway, if you are thinking of it, my uncle, you know the one who has a house in Worli, he

owns two showrooms. We can easily get a discount from him. He especially has a soft corner

for me. Twinkle, he says, I will give you a car for free. So if you are thinking, you needn’t

stress about it.’

We waited at the signal for it to turn green. ‘And don’t worry, we won’t go for an SUV or

XUV, I think a decent-sized sedan is good enough, don’t you think? Keshav was saying I want

a big SUV. I told him to calm down. I mean it would make sense if we were growing our family

but that’s a couple of years from now. What do we need an SUV for? Don’t you think I did the

right thing?’

‘Absolutely, beta, you are right. We should go for a sedan only. Now, you have to learn to

monitor Keshav’s decisions. He is very quick to spend money. You will need to be the wise

one.’

We arrived at the temple, which was genuinely just a rickshaw ride away, some would say

walking distance even. It soon became a ritual for Twinkle to take Dolly aunty to the temple,

who began to take pride in being dropped by her daughter-in-law. I was fascinated by her go-

getter attitude, always ready to help anyone and everyone.

One such afternoon, I was waiting in the car with Twinkle for Dolly aunty to return. She was

busy looking at her phone, scrolling through some pictures. She seemed taken in by what she

was looking at. I peeped in to see large, majestic dining tables, each costing more than the

other. Casually, she brushed her fingers through her hair, looking ever so peaceful. On noticing

my curiosity, she showed the pictures to me.

‘This is made of Italian marble, one of the most expensive tables in the world.’

I gathered some courage and asked her, how did the two meet?

‘Keshav and I used to be college friends,’ she said. I imagined Keshav chasing after Twinkle.

‘Keshav bhaiya must have been crazy about you,’ I said, smiling while thinking about the many

quirky ways in which he must’ve tried to woo his future wife.

I imagined him sneaking up to her at surprising moments, buying her the best samosas from

the canteen, protecting her from bullies, bribing her best friends, and following her around like

a heartbroken puppy.

‘Who Keshav?’ Twinkle laughed. For all the grace she had, her laughter was a bit misleading.

‘He was a mouse in college. Inconsequential. No one even looked at him. In fact, he was after

my best friend. Poor girl, I stole him from her,’ she laughed again, this time with a distinct hint

of evil.

This could mean only one thing. For the first time in my entire life, I had something on Keshav

bhaiya, who had for the longest time, teased me about not having a voice, being meek, being a

nobody, and being inconsequential, all in good humour, of course.

On nudging Twinkle a little more, I found out that the ex-girlfriend was no longer Twinkle’s

friend either and that she and Keshav had had a massive fallout. I felt power surging through

my veins. For the first time, I knew what to do if Keshav bhaiya would attack me, I’d simply

say Back off you wimp. I couldn’t wait to confront him about this.

Dolly aunty stepped out of the temple, talking to another woman her age. I could tell her stance

had changed. Suddenly, a lot of people were asking her for advice. Twinkle stepped out and

greeted each and every aunty with great respect, taking special care to mention their name and

ask about their family members. I could see the peacock dance happening in front of me but

unlike the law of the jungle, here, the daughter-in-law was seducing the mother-in-law and her

friends. Focus, I learnt was key to any relationship. Twinkle had not let go for a second.

On the way back, Twinkle spoke about the table. ‘Mummy, I’m just like you. I understand the

value of money. I mean, my friend just bought an Italian marble table, but that doesn’t mean I

have to also, right? I know the house is small and we all sleep in the size of the beds we make.

Why people would spend on such things is beyond me. Of course, her husband is a big

industrialist, but I am not a big spender, and just like you.’

Soon, the wedding took place. Twinkle organised everything meticulously, ensuring

everything went just as she wanted. From the guest lists, the food being served, to how she

would make her entry, and the return gifts, she had her finger on everything. Dolly aunty was

only too relieved to have all of the duties taken off her hands. Twinkle even ensured that all

the vendors were mostly in the family relations. The money should go back into our own

family, she said.

All throughout her initiation into the new home, I saw Twinkle take on more and more

responsibilities, taking charge of the kitchen, the bills, the health of her in-laws, guests, and

more. ‘It’s time for you to look after yourself now,’ she would say while insisting her mother-

in-law go to the park every morning. She ensured that vegetables liked by her father-in-law

were a part of the daily menu. All in all, she kept every member of the family, immediate,

extended, and far off, extremely happy. Soon, she was pregnant and had a beautiful baby boy.

Soon, she started a business. She failed at it but soon enough started another.

Soon, the oldest residents of Avani Kunj sold their flat and bought a new four-bedroom flat in

an area where the real estate was double that of ours. It was a sad farewell, but since we were

involved in the shifting, it didn’t feel so sudden. The movers and packers were called only on

the last day to minimize costs. Again, Twinkle’s idea. Through the entire month, we transferred

things on a daily basis, doing three rounds of deliveries in their new SUV.

After they finally moved out, our days, of course, became calmer. I had to start applying for

college which took up most of my time. Days later, we were invited to a housewarming lunch.

Needless to say, the house was big, clean, and tidy. Dolly aunty looked different; she was

welcoming but she spoke less. Twinkle was warm and the delicious-looking lunch was laid out

large dining table, set right in the middle of the living room. It was made of Italian marble.