One Hundred Shades of White

One Hundred Shades of White
Preethi Nair

A magical mixture of East meets West, mothers in conflict with daughters, and the healing power of food.‘I cannot easily put into words why I told my children their father had died. What was I supposed to tell them? The truth? ‘’Monu, Mol, your father has had enough of responsibility, he has another family, he’s gone, left us.’’ Maybe there are one hundred shades for explaining truth, a spectrum from light to dark, depending on the vulnerability of those who have to hear it. Things are not always clear cut, they are not either black or white, life just isn’t like that.’Nalini and her two young children are transplanted from luxury in India to the bewildering confusion of London, only to be abandoned by her negligent husband. At first survival is a struggle, but Nalini turns to what she does best: cooking. Her mouthwatering pickles bring financial stability and domestic happiness, as well as affecting everyone who tastes them.Everyone, that is, except for her daughter, Maya. Maya loves fish fingers, burgers and chips. She’s not interested in her history; that died with her father. Resisting the pull of her family, she follows her own chaotic journey which will take her back to India before she can face the truth about her parents, forgive them and herself – and admit that lime pickle is delicious, after all.

ONE HUNDRED

SHADES OF WHITE

PREETHI NAIR

Copyright (#)

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © Preethi Nair 2003

Preethi Nair asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780007143450

Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007438198 Version: 2016-10-05

For Ammamma, who loved

us enough to let us go.

Contents

Cover (#u224f7017-1FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

Title Page (#u224f7017-2FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

Copyright (#)

Dedication (#u224f7017-4FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

MAYA (#)

NALINI (#)

MAYA (#)

NALINI (#)

MAYA (#)

Keep Reading (#)

About the Author (#)

About the Publisher (#)

MAYA (#)

Chaos seems to gravitate towards me. It has always been this way. At the time of my birth, the milkman lost the bicycle which had taken him five years to save up for; my much needed grandmother had to drag out my screaming brother who had accidentally wandered into the room; the rain decided to fall even harder and cut off the current (it made no difference to the midwife, she was blind anyway) and the cockroaches which had congregated on a fallen bhaji were crushed by an unexpected, heavy foot.

The battle that ensued between Amma and I continued. She pushed with all her life and I held on. And so it went on for hours and hours, years and years. Amongst secret whispers, a meticulous strategy emerged and reinforcements came in the shape of forceful fingertips that belonged to a wrinkled pair of hands. The midwife pulled me out, determinedly. The first thing I saw were the dusty blades of a khaki fan. I cried.

At that moment, I wanted to turn right back and ask God to tell me again what he had planned for me and why, exactly, He had chosen this family. Born into a cold, bewildered room, the midwife left me screaming as she lay me out to count my fingers and toes. I was then wrapped up and handed to my Amma.

‘She’s beautiful, just beautiful.’

But I didn’t glance up to see my mother’s face and instead I turned my head to look at my Achan. I saw an old rhinoceros-skinned man sitting in the corner of the room and howled even louder.

He was, thank God, the astrologer who sat through the whole commotion in stony silence. The astrologer noted the time and then shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have held on,’ he said to Amma. ‘The second child always brings change, but this one has come with Mars in the first house and she will surely be the cause of much, much upheaval.’ But before she had a chance to reflect on his words, the rest of my family walked in.

The heavy foot belonged to my Achan who was supposed to be away on a business trip. He must have come back just for me. Not sensing my imminent arrival, he decided to escape the commotion to look for my grandmother and little brother Satchin. He found Ammamma entertaining him in a rickshaw and brought them both back in.

Ammamma took a look at me and then ignited like a fluorescent tube light, laughing at me trembling in the cool morning breeze. She wondered which old woman’s soul I had borrowed. She reached out her arms to hold me but Achan looked at Amma and Amma said, ‘Raul, let Raul take her, Ma.’

He took me in those big strong arms and I felt very, very comfortable. Satchin watched, then he went over to Amma and asked to see the family that would be taking care of me. This was after he had finished stroking my foot whilst he sucked his thumb, using me as a temporary substitute for his beloved blanky which wasn’t looking in good shape at all.

‘No, Monu, Mol is coming home with us, she’s your new little sister.’

‘No, no, Am, don’t want.’

‘Monu,’ she said as Ammamma lifted him up so he could sit next to her, ‘things will be just the same but better, you now have a little sister to play with.’

It was then I looked at my Amma’s face, seeking reassurance. It was so radiantly happy and anything she told you, you would want to believe, for this is the kind of face she had, calm and peaceful.

But they should have paid attention to his little words.

The upheaval that was supposed to mark my arrival, and the subject of much speculation and gossip by the man plotting our lives, was delayed by some inexplicable Jupiter/Saturn conjunction. The fact was that it was some three years later that the full effects of my birth came into force.

God gave me a good deal with my parents. My Achan was handsome and my Amma was really very beautiful. She had extraordinary green eyes that shone when she laughed and long delicate fingers which she hid her laughter behind. Achan came from a wealthy family. He had sixteen cows more than Amma. In fact, his family had sixteen more cows than all the villagers put together but I never got to see the cows or any of Achan’s family as I was told they lived far away. Amma and her mother came from the same village but had more of a middle-class background. They had a buffalo that slept in the kitchen with them and who seemed to enjoy the bedtime stories more than Amma did. This I know because Amma said his snores reverberated through the house and many times were mistaken for the tremors of an impending earthquake. Amma didn’t have an Achan because he died when she was little, but I don’t know how it happened because whenever I asked about him, she became very sad.

I can’t tell you either the exact circumstances surrounding my parents’ marriage because whenever I asked, it was always hastily explained in one simple sentence, ‘Your Achan came to see me, fell in love and so it was arranged that I marry him.’

That’s how they did things in Kerala. The man and his family would go and see the lady, who would have to go to the kitchen and make him some tea and serve it in the best cup, along with some savouries, and then he would look at her as she handed the cup to him. The lady would glance at the man fleetingly; if she liked him she would smile coyly and sometimes he would respond by touching her fingertips whilst she gave him the tea. This meant that he really loved her. The rest of the family would sit observing the interaction to see how well it had gone. They were also observing other things like if she was well mannered but then, I think, of course she’s going to be well mannered, it’s only five minutes while she’s serving him, it’s not that difficult. They would also take into account family background and history; there must be no scandal with any of the extended family members like divorces or separation. Other things were also important like how much money the family has and if the lady can cook well and, finally, their astrological charts must match. My Ammamma told me that the latter wasn’t a huge problem as there was a woman in the village called Laxmiammayi who could doctor unsuitable charts. Laxmiammayi could tweak Uranus or Pluto so they sat in the right house and matched perfectly with the proposed suitor, but she did that for a hefty fee.