Chapter 3: First Encounter

Never, in my memory, Mom had a approached a morning in such a highly charged atmosphere. When Mom woke up, Dad pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing nap too. Behind her back Dad was having a particularly bad time of it. I knew his disapproval of Jafferbhai was still wrestling with his dislike of his moral obligation. Thus, I swerved my vote in Dad's pocket and decided to turn Mom against the flat. I thought if mom didn't like the flat, then there won't be a any loan to begin with.

She quickly rattled her kitchen work and we were ready to leave. Our journey was quite quick as there was very little traffic on the roads and till Mr Patel, the owner came by to ushered us upstairs, We waited outside two identical 5 story apartment complex (consist of a grey and peach coloured buildings each), which were sharing the common compound and gateway. Mr Patel was bald and burly exactly like a potato. Dad gave a very brief introduction of him as a Software consultant. Through the gateway, into grey building, we had to squeezed together to give Mr Patel's bulk enough space to join us in the elevator. He chose to press 3 in the set of numbered-buttons and next moment we were getting lifted skyward. As the lift began to ascend, I spoke to Mom in a sepulchral whisper, keen not to be overheard by Mr Patel-

"Bad sign! It's on third floor Mom. 3 is your bad luck number."

Mom made a little disbelieving face.

"How can it be? I was born on 3rd April, got married on 3rd July. You were born on 3rd February."

Mr Patel, who had heard us anyways, laughed at Mom's cunning reply; Dad frowned and My spirit sank slightly.

"There we are." said Mr Patel as the lift hung us in the midair and the doors parted swiftly from the middle for us to step out on the narrow-porch of third floor and door slide-closed automatically behind us. There were only two apartment-doors at each end of the porch. Left one was hopefully ours. There was a shinning nameplate saying 'PATEL's' on it. It was looking very new as if fitted very recently. There wasn't any nameplate on the right door. 'Owners are in some foreign country, ' said Mr. Patel when Dad later asked him about the neighbourhood; Mr Patel unlocked the maroon-polished door and we trudged in. Light filled into the dim living-room as he drew the curtains and rolled the windows apart, revealing an incredible sight.

I walked in with a sense of mounting excitement and-

... HOLY MOTHER OF GOD ... my mouth fell open as I motioned below the fluorescent lights mounted beautifully between the cornered tray-ceiling design. Mom edged along to feel the smoothness of the sage green walls dressed in an expensive plastic paint, I could see her itching to go and check the kitchen. Dad stood flipping on his toes on the pearly white marbled floor.

"To the kitchen please everyone." Mr Patel said, and he beckoned everyone to follow him, to the modular kitchen, tiled in maroon. When Mom heard him, her prominent eyes seemed to bulge excitedly and she made a beeline straight for Kitchen, before Mr Patel. We followed her lead. It was bigger than our two rented rooms united. Mom didn't blink once, started chewing her tongue again. However, she seemed too happy to actually say anything.

Mom stood their in the kitchen, observing it's intricacy with the wonder of a child and with a slight pang she asked Mr Patel impatiently. "Er- bathroom?"

"There on right." said Mr Patel pointing along the passageway.

"I'll be back in a minute." Mom said brightly as she passed.

The second Mom turned her back on us, I stepped towards dad, who had maintained dignified silence and asked "Are you sure Mr Patel is selling it for 20 Lakhs?"

Dad nodded dully without looking at me."Yeah! I know it looks way expensive,"

I smiled at him.

"Don't you think he could've got a fairly better price if he would've sold it to any real-estate dealer?"

Dad looked bit startled at my view but was saved the trouble of responding by as Mom bustled out from bathroom with a shout.

"It has a shower ... Bathroom has a shower!"

"Er- Yes mam ... there is also a hand-shower." Mr Patel said awkwardly, in a voice of determined sweetness.

Her head craned in and she cried again "See Vinay, a hand-shower."

Mr Patel's lips curled in a sneer.

"And there are four bathrooms in total. One common and other one's attached with each master-bedroom." Mr Patel said.

"Does that mean this flat have 3 bedrooms too?" She asked stupidly, calculating a simple math on her figures.

Mr Patel and Dad exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; the temptation to burst out laughing was almost overwhelming.

Dad gave frown of displeasure. "Certainly," he said. "I remember telling you it's a three B-H-K."

"For the record," Mom said, recoiling her regular self."three is my lucky number."

"Typical mom." I scoffed in my head.

Mom stepped close to Dad.

"Does my Saree look old-fashioned?" Mom hissed, her confidence sinking, apparently under the impression that Mr Patel was smirking at what she was wearing, rather than what she was saying.

Dad sighed.

"No ... not at all."he said, looking up to down at Mom."You look perfectly fine."

Mr Patel didn't detailed too much about the apartment; he Just let us survey on our own, looking rather known to the fact: we had loved it. He, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Mom's peculiar behaviour. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, I was quite sure that Mr. Patel thought Mom was quite as mad as mom thought he was for selling the flat, except that Mr Patel felt sympathy rather than delight.

"Ma'am, is everything ok? You seem nervous!" Mr Patel asked.

"Oh absolutely not! Never felt better." Mom said to cover the awkward moment, making it more awkward than it already was.

I was as astonished as mom, but I was investing all my energy into fixing Mom's screw against the flat. Wasn't easy for me as I myself was making valiant efforts to hold my awe in check. I was suppose to stay calm for dad, who was hovering in the hallway, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

"Mr Patel, nothing personal-" Mom finally asked the one thing which Dad strictly warned her not to. "May I know the reason, you are selling this flat?"