Beloved
Marisha Ida Fonseca
8 March 2009, 16:22The cake and sweets had been served, and while Aunty Joyce had gone inside, her sisters and sisters-in-law enjoyed themselves, freely criticizing the sweets and talking about the good old days when people made guava cheese at home and didn’t buy from shops. Now that Joyce had come out again, the subject had to be changed.
“ I’ve heard a lot about Michael’s wife Rochelle,” remarked Aunty Sylvie. “Did Michael tell you, she is quite a case. She has been crying and she doesn’t want to go out anywhere. I think the trouble is psychic.” Aunty Sylvie liked to show how clever she was, but didn’t always manage it. She had high blood pressure and told the world she was suffering from hypochondria. She found their smiles very impolite.
“I was sure this would happen. Rochelle’s family is like that. Her father made a big fuss when we built the new church and gave only Rs 5,000 when everyone thought he would give 10,000. What else do you expect?” remarked Aunty Lourdes.
“Do you remember their wedding? Rochelle’s father came late and was so angry that the cake had already been cut. He was shouting at her in front of everyone. ‘Cake katorle! Cake katorle!’ Of course he was drunk. Imagine a father who comes drunk for his daughter’s wedding. He hadn’t even buttoned up his shirt properly. And a girl from this class has married into our family!”
“I never wanted Michael to marry Rochelle. Do you know, she used to take drugs?”
“No, Philu, that’s just a rumour. Just because Rochelle studied in a hostel, that doesn’t mean she takes drugs,” said Aunty Joyce sharply.
“Girls should never be put in a hostel. It affects their health and their morals. Why did Rochelle have to go to that college in Bangalore? She should have stayed with her parents and gone to some good college here. In the hostel, there is always smoking and drinking” proclaimed Aunty Philu, who had never been inside a hostel, having failed her matriculation exam sixty years ago.
“What is worse is that girls in hostels do THAT”, Aunty Sylvie did not have to explain what ‘THAT’ was, they all knew. “And they then have to go for abortions. It is a sin and it spoils their health and their entire lives. No wonder hostel girls do not make good wives. They have lost their values.”
“I remember how Rochelle’s mother used to beat her with a slipper when she did not get good marks in her examinations. Now Rochelle is doing the same to her daughters. You know how she punishes them? She puts them in the toilet and turns off the light. The youngest one screams and screams but she has to stay there for an hour.”
“Shocking! But what else can you expect? She is not from a good family. One uncle was arrested for bootlegging when I was a girl. No wonder Rochelle is like this.”
“Michael has only just found out about Rochelle,” remarked Aunty Sylvie. “He travels on business such a lot. Last week he was in Italy, before that he was in Hong Kong. He goes nearly everywhere for his business. He’s very successful and has made plenty of money. Rochelle should be happy about it, now that fish has gone up so much. 100 ruppees for pomfret at Citylight Market! But instead she cries all day and says that nobody loves her. I know her parents are dead, and her sister died in an accident last year, but doesn’t she have husband, children and the rest of our family? I don’t know why Michael doesn’t take Rochelle to a doctor. Obviously she needs some medicine. She might be suffering from expression.”
“Michael is very stubborn. He always wants his own way. I’ve heard that Rochelle didn’t want to have three children but Michael insisted. Rochelle wanted just two. That’s why she hates the youngest one. It’s very sad,” sighed Aunty Bessie. Aunty Bessie believed that most things in life were either sad or very sad, according to taste.
“This is a very bad thing to happen. We must tell Rochelle not to do it. She should stop her silly behavior. Otherwise people will talk and this will disgrace us. I am sure their neighbors must know all that’s going on. Michael and Rochelle have fights every night, the whole building must be hearing them,” Aunty Lourdes pronounced final judgment, and the rest nodded wisely. Lourdes was right. Rochelle was probably off her head. Nobody wanted a lunatic in the family. They would never be respected again. Rochelle must be properly warned about her bad behavior. She should have some consideration for her in-laws.
A week later, Rochelle committed suicide. All the aunts cried at the funeral and Michael put up a tombstone “In loving memory of Rochelle Fernandes, age 35, beloved wife and mother.”
