Home for Chirappu (4 page)

They turned a corner into a side street—Trent had yet to see anything he could recognize as a street sign, much less read—and ducked into a small, dim shop. Trent followed Nik’s lead and slipped his sandals off at the door.

He could only guess that the spate of sound that followed were greetings and questions as the older gentleman behind the counter came out to greet Nik and Leelavati. He nodded when the man looked his way, but since he didn’t know what had been said, he didn’t know what else to do.

Nik looked at home in the little shop, much the same way he’d looked in the street haggling with the flower vendor. He belonged here in a way Trent never would. More than that, he looked comfortable here in a way Trent had never seen him look in Chicago, even when they were in the Desi corridor of Devon Avenue. This was—and always would be—home for him.

The shopkeeper ushered Nik over to a rack of leather sandals with beautiful tooled designs on the straps between the toes and over the top of the foot. Trent peeked over Leelavati’s shoulder to get a closer look, but since Nik wasn’t reaching for any of them, Trent didn’t either. He didn’t know the protocol for shopping here.

“See anything you like?” Nik asked.

“Everything,” Trent said reverently. “You don’t see sandals this finely worked at home.”

“No, you don’t,” Nik agreed. “Do you want to try some on?”

Trent considered for a moment. They were all beautiful, and for India, he was sure they were even relatively practical, but he lived in Chicago and worked in a company where he couldn’t wear sandals in the office. As detailed as the designs were, he was sure they were hideously expensive, and he didn’t want to spend a lot of money on something he would only be able to wear a few times a year.

“Maybe those?” He pointed to a simple pair that he hoped wouldn’t be too costly.

“You should get something nicer,” Leelavati said. “It’s Chirappu. You’ll want something to wear to the festival.”

Trent looked at the selection again and pointed to a second pair, the ones that had caught his eye initially with the mandala designs on the straps.

“Much better. What size do you wear?”

“A ten,” Trent said.

“Nine here,” Nik interjected.

She switched to Malayalam again and in a few moments, the proprietor had disappeared and returned with the sandals. Trent tried them on, amazed at how comfortably they fit. Nik had said the exchange rate would make things a better deal in India, so maybe they wouldn’t blow his entire trip budget in one go.

“What do you think?” Nik asked.

“They’re really nice.”

“Aren’t they? Mr. Rashid does great work.”

“I’m afraid to ask how much they are,” Trent said.

Nik grinned. “One hundred and fifty rupees.”

Trent did a quick calculation in his head. “That’s less than the price of cup of coffee at Starbucks.”

“Now you see why I’m always complaining about the prices in Chicago,” Nik replied.

“Maybe I should get two pairs,” Trent said. “I don’t know if I’ll be back.”

Nik looked at him oddly but shrugged. “It’s up to you. Pick a different style so you have options.”

Trent looked around a bit, but none of the others caught his interest the same way. “No, I think I’ll just get this pair. I don’t wear sandals all that often at home.”

Nik took the sandals and set them on the counter next to the pair he had chosen. Then he settled in to haggle again. Trent hadn’t been surprised by it on the street, but he couldn’t imagine going into a store in Chicago and haggling. The proprietor didn’t seem surprised, though, as he settled into the negotiation with a grin to match Nik’s.

Nik finally handed him some money and they left the store. “I miss that in Chicago,” he admitted as they retrieved their shoes and walked back down the street. “No one wants to bargain with me that way. Even in the Indian stores.”

They wandered a little more, looking in the shop windows but not going in. Trent was starting to feel the heat and to wonder if he was getting sunburned when Nik and his mother stopped as another woman Leelavati’s age came bustling up to them and embraced Nik.

“Nikhilesh! It’s been so long.” Trent didn’t know who the woman was, but at least she was speaking English so he could pretend to be interested in the conversation.

“Hello, Kunjunjamma aunty,” Nik said. “You’re right, it has been. How’s Reena? And the rest of the family?”

Reena. This must be Nik’s other friend’s family, then. Trent paid a little more attention after that. It might have been years since Nik had seen her, but she had been important to him once. She might be important to him again.

“Oh, they’re all well. Reena is getting married in September. You should come to the wedding. She would be so happy to see you.”

“She’s getting married here in Alappuzha?” Nik asked. Trent could hear the speculation in Nik’s voice like he was considering coming back. Two trips less than a year apart after not having come home in ten years…. How long would it take before trips home weren’t enough?

“Yes, but she’ll live in Pullincunnoo with her new husband once they’re married.”

“In Pullincunnoo, really? After living in Kochi for the last few years? What’s she going to do there?”

Reena’s mother shrugged. “She can teach there too. There are good schools on the island.”

Nik looked skeptical, but he embraced the woman. “I’ll call her while I’m here. I don’t know if I can make it back for the wedding, but I’d love to say hello if nothing else.”

Reena’s mother pulled out her phone. “I’ll text her number to your mother. Then you’ll have it.”

Trent wasn’t sure he wanted Nik to have her number, but he refused to be the jealous lover who tried to control his boyfriend’s contact with everyone else.

“Thank you, aunty. Oh, I’m being rude. This is Trent. We work together in Chicago. Trent, this is Reena’s mother, Kunjunjamma aunty.”

Trent offered his hands as Nik had taught him. Reena’s mother smiled and returned the gesture, folding her hands over his. “It’s nice to meet you. Leelavati mentioned Nikhilesh was bringing a friend home with him when he came to visit. Have you been to India before?”

“No, aunty,” Trent said. “This is my first visit, but I hope it won’t be my last.”

“Come by on Christmas Day,” Reena’s mother said. “I have fruitcake.”

Trent stifled a flinch at the memory of the fruitcake his mother always served at Christmas at home.

“We will, aunty,” Nik said. “You make the best fruitcake. Not at all like the stuff they make in the States. I’ve missed it.”

Trent relaxed a little. Nik had complained about fruitcake right along with him when they’d gone home to visit his family last year, so if he said this was better, at least they were comparing it to the same base level of bad.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” Nik said, “but I’m home now, so I don’t have to miss it this year. We’ll come by for tea on Christmas Day if that suits.”

Trent tried not to frown at Nik’s words. Trent still talked about “going home” to visit his parents. It shouldn’t bother him that Nik used the same words to talk about India, but it did. Wisconsin was a few hours’ drive, not a thirty-six hour flight. And Trent didn’t miss Wisconsin the way Nik obviously missed Kerala.

“Good. You’ll get to see Reena then.” She embraced Nik once more and left them to finish her errands. Trent trailed along behind Nik and his mother as they returned to the house, feeling more and more alienated as they walked.

“Y
OU
’
RE
NOT
having a good time,” Nikhilesh said as soon as they were alone. Trent’s shoulders slumped and he dragged his feet as he got ready for bed.

“Of course I am,” Trent protested. “Your family has been very welcoming.”

Nik raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean you’re enjoying yourself.”

Trent sighed, and the sound tore at Nikhilesh’s confidence. He wanted Trent to like India. He didn’t want to wait another ten years before coming home again, but if Trent didn’t want to come with him, he’d have a hard time making even infrequent trips. Assuming Trent still wanted to be with him after
this
trip.

“I’m still very jet-lagged and things are very different here. You know everyone, so for you it’s a wonderful reunion, and I’m glad to see that. It just means I sometimes get a little lost in the conversation, even when it’s in English. That doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself. I’m glad we’re here. I love seeing where you grew up. It’s a glimpse into your past and your culture I’ve never had before.”

Trent spoke evenly, even earnestly, a good first step, but Nikhilesh wanted to spend the rest of his life with Trent. For that, he needed Trent to embrace his family.

Do not deprive your mother of a wedding to plan.
Muthassan’s words echoed through him again. He still hadn’t decided if Muthassan had intended his words as a blessing, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t accept an arranged marriage even if Trent didn’t want to marry into his crazy family. If he got married, it would be to Trent.

He’d have to figure out how to involve his mother in planning the wedding from Alappuzha when he lived in Chicago. They couldn’t get married in India, so any wedding would have to take place at home. Of course Trent had to say yes first, and the way things were going, Trent would probably run for the hills as soon as they got home, and they’d only been here for two days. They had two weeks left.

He was doomed.

“I wish I could tell you it will get better, but between Chirappu and the party my family planned, I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse.”

“And I’ll deal with it just like I dealt with everything today.”

If only that reassured him the way Trent wanted it to. They were his family and it had been too much for him at times today. When everyone else descended on them, it would be absolute chaos.

“I talked to Achan this afternoon. He’s going to make arrangements for us to go out on a houseboat one day, just us, so you can see the backwaters of Kerala and have a break from everyone.”

“I don’t want to drag you away from your family,” Trent insisted.

“I suspect by that point, I’ll want the break too,” Nik replied. “I love my family, but they’re overwhelming when they’re all together, and after ten years, they all want a lot of together time. Besides, I have wonderful memories of going out on boats in the backwater. I want to share that with you too.” The thought of a day with just Trent appealed greatly. Even more so if they had some privacy on the boat.

“As long as it’s something you’ll enjoy too.” Trent stretched out on the mattress, ready for bed. Nikhilesh finished getting ready quickly and climbed in on the other side. Trent snuggled close and wrapped his arms around Nikhilesh tightly.

“You’re happy here.”

Nikhilesh heard the question in Trent’s words and considered how to answer. He was happy to see his family. He’d missed the scents of jasmine and sandalwood, the sound of Malayalam, the chance to eat authentic Kerala cooking. He’s missed the smell of his mother’s perfume and his father’s aftershave. He’d missed Nareshkumar’s wedding and seeing his nieces’ births. He had no one to blame for any of that but himself since he was the one who’d bolted and then stayed away, but being here had driven home the holes in his life and heart.

Trent’s arms tightened around him, drawing Nikhilesh’s attention back to his lover, who watched him expectantly.

“It’s good to be home. It’s been a long time.”

T
HE
STREETS
of Alappuzha were so crowded when they left the house to go to the temple the next morning that they could hardly walk.

“I told you,” Nikhilesh said as they inched forward toward the temple. God, he loved the press of bodies around them. He tilted his head back and breathed in the scent of the garlands strung overhead between the stalls lining the street.
This
was Chirappu at its best.
This
was what all the pujas in temples in Chicago could never replace.
This
was home. “People come from all over Kerala for Chirappu.”

“Do we need to worry about being late?” Trent asked.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Nikhilesh said. “It’s a festival, not a single rite at the temple. There will be things going on for the next ten days. The important thing is to make our puja. After that, we can enjoy the celebration.”

The bright sunlight beat down on their heads as they moved forward. Trent would get sunburned if they stayed outside for long, but they weren’t far from the temple now. All around them, everyone was smiling, clearly happy to be outside and celebrating, and that took the edge off the crowd and the heat and the smells. Two children ran by, their hands full of stalks of sugarcane.

“What are they carrying?” Trent asked.

“Sugarcane. They’ll chew on it to suck the sugar out and then spit out the fibrous leftovers. It won’t be bad today, but there will be flies everywhere tomorrow. It never stopped us as children, but Achan always made us go to the back of the garden if we brought any home. He didn’t want the flies anywhere near the house.”

“What does it taste like?” Trent asked.

“Like chewing on really stringy celery, except sweet. You suck all the sweet out of it and throw the rest away.” Nikhilesh smiled at the memory of running through the streets with his hands full of sugarcane, Reena and Aysha by his side. He looked around, but even if Reena or Aysha came to Chirappu, he’d never find them in the crowd. “We’ll buy some after we’ve finished the puja. Come on, we’re almost there.”

They ducked around the crowd and into the grounds of the temple. The carved wooden doors of the building stood open to welcome worshippers. Nikhilesh slipped off his sandals and left them in the pile outside. The temperature dropped by degrees as they stepped inside and escaped the tropical sun. Summers in Chicago barely kept him in practice for winter in Kerala. He wouldn’t be able to come home in the summer now. He paused for a moment to look up at the temple after ten years away. It hadn’t changed at all, the paintings and sculptures of Bhuvaneswari still adorning the walls, but after ten years and with Trent at his side, the strangeness of it struck him. Trent never went to temple with him in Chicago, not that Nikhilesh went often. Would the strangeness add to Trent’s unease? He’d clung to Nikhilesh during the night, not something he usually did unless it was unusually cold in their apartment or he had something on his mind.