The doorbell pealed its ting tong and Lavanya opened it, dragging her feet unhappily in their blue Bata chappals. It was Rathod the driver, old retainer and friend who had bounced her on his knee from babyhood, now a conspirator in much of her mischief. She gave him the car keys and mused that today neither of them was going to have any peace……

Mom had decided on some shopping and Lavanya had to go along. It was the summer holidays. An only child, Lavanya was home from boarding school, bored and already missing her big group of fun-loving classmates. The eleven-year-old found holidays oppressive and not just because of the humid heat of Mumbai. Dad only “yes, Maa-ed” to Mom’s litany of demands and complaints and went to devilishly cunning lengths to keep out of the way and Mom triumphantly ruled the home. This year they were going to the ancestral house in Kerala after a few days but Mom had to shop first, for gifts to be showered imperiously along with endless unwanted advice on cringing relatives.

Obviously, Lavvy could not be left at home to her iPod and computer games because Mom suspected that their doddering old cook of many years standing may recover a long vanished libido and pounce like a sex-crazed villain on her precious daughter the minute her back was turned. Burgeoning suddenly and to her embarrassment, in various parts of her anatomy, Lavvy’s first bra had been bought and she hated its straps and scratchy lacy bindings. She was constantly being told she was now a big girl after the monthly “Red River” had recently made its appearance. So Mom was even more strongly protective and entrenched in her suspicions. There was no use swearing to her that old Cookie only snored thankfully, sitting propped against the kitchen wall after his chores were done, probably in sheer relief that the overwhelming lady of the house was out…

 In silent defiance, Lavvy wore a strappy tank top and frayed cargo cut offs that she knew Mom hated.

Mom scanned her from head to toe but decided to let it go since it was already getting late. They got down at Lohar chawl and Rathod went off to park somewhere. The shop boys spotted Mom surging along….a majestic sari clad battleship with Lavvy following like a depressed dolphin in her wake and a general wave of panic swept the area. Like small animals in the wild, they froze, hoping the predator would not notice them. They knew the large, strident voiced woman from many previous visits. She was the one that made them take down their most unreachable wares before sailing away without buying even a safety pin. If they could, they would have pulled down the shutters but it was too late.

Mom climbed up in to a store and cast a fiercely piercing eye around while the men stood mesmerized like deer caught in a hunter’s spotlight. Soon, everything that had been shelved neatly was on the counter while Lavvy looked down and scuffed her sandaled toe on the linoleum, wishing it would open up and swallow her up. Her heart bled for the hapless shopwallas.

Lavvy perched on a stool by the door. She looked at the crowds roiling by, bent on finding whatever it is was they wanted in shops that were stuffed with every conceivable thing that a house or kitchen may need. But not apparently to Mom’s satisfaction….they moved on to the next shop and the next, leaving behind the usual dazed souls surveying their cluttered and creaking counter. And so it went till Mom decided that Lohar chawl was not the right place. They entered the labyrinthine and shadowy corridors of Mohatta Market and later Crawford market. Finally Mom emerged fiercely victorious, having reduced prices and the pride that people had in their goods to highly satisfying mincemeat.

Rathod had hung around at a discreet distance, trailing in their tracks. By dishing out a blood curdling and much masala-ed account of his daily sufferings, he had struck up a foxy friendship with a police havaldar who allowed him to loiter (“not too long okay”?) in a no parking zone. In any case, Rathod would have chosen the havaldar’s wrath over that of his impossible memsaab who commanded sudden U-turns just where a board said “no U-turn.” As luck would have it, the havaldar had an equally impossible wife and stalked off very obligingly, to rant and whip out his challaan book at some other unfortunate who had blithely pulled in nearby.

While cars and taxis honked and eddied around them like a noisy, disgruntled river, Mom made sure that Rathod stowed her treasures in the car boot “properly”. Lavvy meanwhile noticed a fresh poster that was slathered on a wall nearby…..a Fun Fair cum Exhibition was on at *********. And that was when the imp of a naughtily vengeful idea bounced into her brain.

She said, “Mom, let’s go to that exhibition.”

“Not today. I saw it in the morning papers and thought we would go tomorrow”.

“But Mom you said you wanted one of those spiral slicing onion cutters for Ammini Aunty and none of the Lohar chawl shops had the right one. In these exhibitions……”

That was it; she had baited her hook craftily and Mom’s bloodhound instincts were whetted. Instantly, Rathod was U-turning at a risk ridden junction and speeding off to the grounds.

They headed straight for the pungent smelling demo-stall. To Lavvy, its range of kitchen implements looked like they belonged in a medieval castle’s torture chamber. Glib salesmen sang out nonstop sales chants while their hands showed what wonders their products could work, most of which stopped happening in anybody else’s hands of course.

Surprisingly the right onion slicer was bought quite fast and Lavvy swooped again, to put her main plan in action.

“Mom, I haven’t been anywhere since coming home. You know I like those giant wheel rides….”

Flushed though rather watery-eyed with the victory of her spiral onion slicer campaign, Mom regally produced crisp notes from her purse.

Aha, so far so good, thought Lavvy, as she bought their tickets.

Next came the excitement of climbing into the multicoloured bucket seat and swinging up in breathtaking circles rising and falling like a kite on the wind.

The wheel slowed down after the promised fifty spins and the next lot of customers clambered in eagerly as each seat was emptied. Their own seats though, swung up without stopping at ground level and soon they were up high again, rising and plunging in another dizzying dance.

“What…ummph…what….is going on” Mom spluttered weakly through the kerchief pressed desperately to her lips.

“Why didn’t he let us get off?”

She screamed feebly at the man minding the motor below as they twirled past and he grinned back, “Double ticket liya naa?”

Mom had clamped her mouth shut to keep her tummy from heaving sickeningly and glared at an angelic looking Lavvy who stared back in wide eyed innocence.

“I thought you liked these rides too, Mom.”

Only a few low moans in reply.

As they drove back home, Rathod was concerned…

”Memsaab, are you okay?”

Mom could only wave him on silently. She was looking and feeling very, very green around the gills.

The old man’s eyes met Lavvy’s in the car mirror with a big question mark hanging in the air.

Her bright eyes were brimming with mirth and mischief.

Later she would tell Dad how she managed to silence Mom at least for a while… and all because of a nice little giant wheel ride!!