Serious Men

evening, outside the Bombay Hospital, mobsparaded an effigy that was named after Nambodri. They beat it with slippers and finally burnt it. There were reports of stray violence in other parts of the country but after two days the riots receded.

L AVANYA A CHARYA SURVEYED the room with the autocracy of a wife. The last two weeks she had supervised the resurrection of her husband’s office. The textured walls seemed too empty, but he refused to allow any adornments except the framed poster of Carl Sagan.
    ‘They broke everything but this?’ she asked, looking at Sagan’s charming face. ‘Arvind, can’t you let me put up at least one painting? After all, you begged me to come back.’
    ‘I like the walls blank,’ he said stubbornly, looking at the sea through the new window.
    ‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘I’m too tired to argue.’
    On her way out she smiled at the clerk, who was half standing, and she said to him in Tamil, ‘Take care of him, Ayyan.’
    ‘I always will,’ he said, touching his chest with the tips of his fingers.
    That evening, Ayyan Mani and Adi were sitting on a pink concrete bench, one of the many benches on the Worli Seaface that were dedicated to the memory of a departed member of the Rotary Club. Adi was peering into the paper cone searching for hidden peanuts at the bottom. Ayyan studied the walkers. Young women in good shoes walked in haste, as though they were fleeing from the fate of looking like their mothers; proud breasts bounced and soft thighs shuddered. Newly betrothed girls went with long strides to abolish fat before the bridal night when they might have to yield on the pollen of a floral bed to a stranger bearing K-Y Jelly. Old men went with other old men discussingthe nation they had ruined when they were young. Their wives followed, talking about arthritis and other women who were not present. Then came Oja Mani, walking swiftly in slippers.
    Adi started laughing. He could not bear to see his mother like this. Ayyan laughed too. She gave them a foul look and marched towards the other end of the promenade.
    Adi was muttering something to himself and looking at the fluorescent shoes of the boys who were passing by.
    ‘Adi,’ his father said, ‘look what I have in my hand.’
    The boy looked up. His father was holding a spoon.
    ‘Do you know that some people can bend a spoon with their minds?’
    ‘Really?’ Adi said.
    ‘Do you want to bend a spoon with your mind, Adi?’
    ‘Yes,’ the boy said.
    ‘OK, then listen to me carefully,’ Ayyan said, ‘but this is the last time. The very last time we do something like this. OK?’
    They looked at each other for a moment. And how they laughed.

Copyright
    Serious Men

Copyright © 2010 by Manu Joseph.
    All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
    EPub Edition © AUGUST 2010 ISBN: 978-1-443-40037-4
    Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
First published in Great Britain in 2010 by
John Murray (Publishers), an Hachette UK Company
    First Canadian edition
    No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
    All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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    Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Joseph, Manu, 1974–
Serious men / Manu Joseph.
    ISBN 978-1-55468-670-4
    I. Title.
PR9499.4.J58S47 2010 823′.92 C2010-900526-0
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