The phone would ring any minute. Anupama, neatly clad in her Rajasthani cotton sari held her wireless phone as she watched the sun disappear into the horizon from her marble-tiled balcony in Vasant Kunj. She gazed at the faintly luminous evening stars radiating light on the two silver Mercedes parked in front of her apartment complex. She peered around and saw a lone Chai-walla  yelling in the thick, dense air on the street as he jostled with this tea-pot and bucket full of cheap porcelain cups and dark, polluted worm-infested water that she thought would give cholera to anyone who had the courage to drink it. The colorful rickshaw-pullers tinkled the bells as they competed against monstrous Mercedes cars and racing human beings who all wanted to escape the sweltering evening heat that felt like scalding wind out of a blow-dryer constantly gushing out excessively hot air.

Anupama hated the summer. She hated the sweltering heat, the sulfurous smell in the air due to all the pollution from private cars in Delhi and the darned mosquitoes that swarmed around her thick, black hair. But most of all, she hated having to wait for this phone call. Akash, her son would call her today to wish her “Happy Sixtieth Birthday.” She knew Akash wouldn’t miss this time unlike last year when she had dropped a voice-mail on his work-phone at Merill Lynch Investments in New York.

Anupama took a sip of the ice-chilled mango lassi that the Ayah had hand-prepared and brought to her moments ago. The cold, perspiring glass of lassi spurred a flow of sweat down her tanned skin. She wiped her mouth with the anchal of her sari that had extra gold thread in the weft and pallu and shimmering golden-thread-artwork hand-crafted on its border. However, she immediately regretted her impulsive move-the anchal had just been destroyed by a disgusting patch of milk stains from the lassi. Oh, how she regretted it now! The sari was actually the last birthday gift from her son Akash when he had come home for the last time during his freshman year summer break from Harvard.

“Damn bloody summer. It’s only mid-April and it’s already 110 degrees outside!” Anupama blamed the hot, dry Delhi summer for the milk stains on her delicate sari. Quite honestly though, had Akash been around today, he would have been least bothered by such a thing. He was the boyish kind-the kind of carefree young man who would ditch the luxurious Lexus cars and take you out on a three-wheeled auto-rickshaw ride to explore the city. He would banter with the driver to find out all the cheap, touristy places that boasted the best lassis in town and while getting off would bargain for a discount on the fare. He would sit next to Anupama and relish the Mughlai Kabab and Naan at Kareem’s restaurant-the only “authentic” Mughlai restaurant in Old Delhi that claims to have access to the original recipe of King Akbar. He was that kind of a person who would celebrate every occasion, including your mother’s, father’s, siblings-everyone’s birthday, anniversary, wedding-you name it and Akash would have been present with a cake and a bouquet of flowers.

Yet, Anupama could not be any happier without him today, on her sixtieth birthday. She missed Akash, but she knew Akash’s happiness was contingent on her happiness. She always knew what would be best for Akash. And now, she prided herself for his accomplishments. He had come first in his class and had surprised Anupama when he invited her to the stage during his valedictorian’s speech at commencement. Akash would never disappoint her-she knew it at her heart. 

And yet, here she was, holding the wireless phone, desperately waiting for him to call. Could he be busy? It was only seven in the morning in New York when it was seven in the evening in Delhi. Maybe he hadn’t woken up yet? Or maybe he is jogging in Central Park, a habit that Anupama prided herself for instilling in her son. Seven in the morning; maybe she should wait another hour so that he could have his breakfast and finish reading the latest headlines and then call her. Or no, it was Saturday morning in New York when it was Friday evening in New Delhi. Maybe it’s just the weekend and Akash is taking an extended hour for sleeping. The poor boy had not even been able to sleep well since his high school days. And even during high school, he was so busy with academics and athletics that it left little room for taking sometime to sleep.

High school was just as much a sweet experience for Akash as it was for Anupama, except those last two years when she had forced Akash to stop thinking about that disgusting, scrofulous Dalit Sania who met Akash through her mother who used work as a life-guard for Akash’s school swim-team. Anupama could not tolerate the fact that her son would even consider looking at someone so impoverished and socially “beneath” her caste. Of course, she made sure no one would know about such a heinous act, for if anyone did, her Brahmin status would be compromised. Instead, she had chosen someone else for Akash. She knew from Akash’s early childhood days that Salma, the daughter of a dear friend, Nirman Ray, the Central Minister for Foreign Affairs would be the perfect match for him. She had the eyes of a princess-the brown, hazelnut ones that would glimmer in the reddish, sun-spiced summer daylight in Delhi. She had the grace of a trained ballerina who would walk on her slender legs and spark melody in the air. Yet, it had always perplexed her how Akash would not let go off Sania- that loathsome, frail girl. She wondered what he had found in her. Sania belonged to the kind of people whom every Delhi aristocrat would be embarrassed of-the kind of eyes that portrayed tiredness and a wardrobe that reflected the shabbiness of growing up in a lower caste society- -the kind of people whom she had always avoided throughout her life and had forced Akash to do the same.

Of course, all the Sania business did not matter anymore. She knew Akash would never refuse her choice; he had always listened to her-from choosing what kind of clothes to wear throughout elementary and high school to what kind of colleges he would go to in the United States. Had it not been for her, Akash would have never gone to Harvard and studied Economics and become a successful Banker. He would have probably been too excited about spending the rest of his life with that despicable Sania and add nothing but shame to her unblemished social status. She wondered how such a reprehensible act would have been received during the mid 1970s-her college days in Delhi University. Were she to do such a thing during that period, she would have been publicly embarrassed and the dishonorable man would have received a cold arm from her father.

It was nine in the morning when the phone finally rang.

“Hello Anupama! Happy Birthday again! Has Akash called yet?” exclaimed a cheerful voice from the other side.

“Hello…Oh hi Radha, thank you. How kind of you to wish me. How are you doing?” Anupama replied with hesitation, unable to hide her disappointment.

“I am fine. Is everything ok? Listen, I am going to the bazaar now, but I will come to your house and take you out for dinner? Sounds good?”

“I don’t think I will go out for dinner. Akash might call me around midnight because it will be around afternoon for him in New York. I am sure he’s just a little confused with the time difference. But thanks though. I will take your offer some other time,” Anupama hastily replied, desperately trying to hang up wondering if Akash had tried to call her now, he would find the line busy.

“Ok then. No problem. I will see you later. Let me know how your night goes. It’s just three more hours till you step into the Sexy Sixty my dear,” Radha joked.

“Indeed I will. Sorry, but I have to go now. Akash might call anytime,” Radha quickly snapped the line. Nothing-not even Radha’s seemingly naughty jokes about sweet sixty or even sexy sixty mattered anymore. Akash would call anytime now-he knew her birthday would end in three more hours. Tomorrow, she would not be the same sweet sixty anymore.

She called the Ayah and asked her to bring her dinner to the balcony. She would not get out of the balcony tonight-not until Akash had called because it was only at the balcony where she got the best telephone reception during long-distance calls.

Then, all of a sudden the red light flashed on her wireless phone. She immediately knew who it was and spared no time in picking up the phone.

“Hello Akash! Beta, what took you so long? I have been waiting for your call for the last six hours! You would not believe what all my friends and cousins did. They all brought me flowers. Oh I am just talking about myself, how are you doing?” Anupama smiled, too content with herself at the moment; she knew she couldn’t get wrong with Akash.

“Oh erm…Sorry umm Anupama aunty, this is Rajiv from Flat C. I was just calling to tell you that your dog has urinated on my mother’s flower pot in the basement garage. I saw him doing it; could you please------” Anupama went ahead and dug her nails on the “off” button on her telephone. She did not want to hear this young rascal talking about how his mother’s flower pots were more important than Kushu, her most favorite pet who has been with her for the last three years.

It was finally midnight when Anupama decided that Akash was probably having some confusion with the dates. She knew that some of her friends had that problem in the past. Radha for instance had the same problem. Her son, Sunny who lives in Frankfurt had Radha’s birthday confused due to the time difference between Europe and India. However, he had then sent her a beautiful gold bangle as her birthday present. Anupama wondered what Akash would send her if he indeed had the date confused. Could it be a Gucci bag? Or maybe a Chanel Number 5? Whatever, she would just be happy with his call. Maybe, just maybe Akash has fallen into that. How foolish of him, she thought, that despite being so successful he is still the boyish person at heart, always getting confused about these things.

She got off from her ivory chair and went towards the living room and as she did, the red light flashed on the phone again. Clearly she did not want to say the same greeting and embarrass herself again.

“Hello, this is Anupama”

“Maa! Happy Birthday! Kaise ho?” Anupama’s heart thumped as she heard Akash’s thick, masculine voice from halfway around the world.

“Oh Beta! Thank you so much for wishing. I am so happy today! You would not believe what all my friends did-they all brought me presents and flowers and Radha even wanted to take me to dinner tonight. Oh and of course, I hand-prepared your favorite Awadhi Biryani today-fresh from scratch, and I even added those big boiled potatoes-remember how you had always refused to have Biryani without potatoes! Oh Akash, I miss you so much Beta, and oh yes you would be so surp---”

“Maa, I miss you too, but I have to go in a bit. There’s a new investment deal that I have to work on the moment I enter office today. Oh hold on just a second Maa,” Akash held the phone on his hands, permeating the other voices in the room into the telephone line.

In the background, Anupama heard a female voice asking Akash to join her for breakfast.

“Maa, I am back, but I have---”

“Beta-whose lovely voice is that in the background?”

“No, nothing Maa, it’s probably the TV”

“Oh Akash, you are still so boyish at heart. Now are you trying to hide that angel away from me?” Anupama teased Akash, trying desperately not to spoil her sheer happiness of hearing Akash’s voice after such a long time.

“Ok. Maa, I wanted to tell you long time ago. I am living with Sania.”

“Living with who? That bloodyDalit? How could you do this to me, Akash? How did that hideous piece of dirt end up in your house?” Anupama began to pant in the dense Mumbai air as little drops of sweat swarmed around the golden bangles around her wrist.

“Maa, keep it low, she may be able to hear you. You have to let go off that condescending attitude Maa- people don’t think like that anymore. And I am shocked that you think so poorly of her. She is studying law at Columbia on a full scholarship. All my colleagues at Merrill Lynch are awestruck by her intellect. I am sure you will change your mind once you see her Maa-she’s just the most gorgeous, smart and caring girl I have ever met. Trust me you will—”

Anupama hung up. She was not in the mood to hear Akash lecture her about that untouchable. It was still pretty warm at midnight in Delhi and from her high-rise apartment she could see the cleaners preparing their brooms to start their mid-night cleaning in her posh Vasant Kunj suburb. She could feel the hot, dry air whack her face from every direction, creating a pool of water under her eyes. Only this time, she wasn’t sure if those water drops were due to the sulfurous fume from the dashing Mercedes cars or something else.

Happy Birthday, Anupama, she whispered to herself, too scared someone else might hear her desperate call.