The Golden Hero Apartment complex in Mumbai’s Khar suburbs is a tower of compact upscale homes, located on the main street, and flanked by a sprawling slum. Apartment 33 belongs to Mridul Mehra and Suvini Perez. They are in their 40s, married, and parents to two teenage children, Damien, and Tara. The Mehras are the quintessence of a successful Indian bourgeois family, having achieved all
typical middle-class aspirations: Mridul works as an invest- ment advisor in a top broking firm, while Suvini works as a sales executive in an HR analytics firm. Being the children of well-off parents means that Damien and Tara are enrolled in an international school. They are average students, but ambiverts, and full of confidence. As teenagers, they either love or loath their parents, depending on the time of the day and the situation at hand.

Overall, the four get along tolerably well; at least no one wants to kill anyone else in the house or run away. At least, not until now.

Last night, the family listened with rapt attention as the Prime Minister addressed the nation on his monthly radio show. The news of the lockdown was not unexpected; they’d been preparing for it –Mumbai had been in some sort of lockdown since a week anyway – but the period of 21 days came as a surprise.

21days cooped up in an apartment as optimal as theirs, seems extreme; frightening even, to Suvini. It has been a while since the family has spent so much time together. Over the years, each of them has perfected the art of finding cosy spaces within the condensed chaos of their apartment. They acknowledged each other during compulsory communal times and gone away to find supplementary pastimes in others. Distractions in terms of school and office were vital; when the goers returned, they looked for routine and comfort, of which Suvini had plenty to offer. But amusement, she could not.

Suvini feels weightless, empty. Her stomach is churning. She feels as if she is stepping off a cliff’s edge...Stop! This is temporary. How bad can it be? Little does she know.

Suvini wakes up early to set things up. She has forgotten how it is to manage everything in the house herself and is therefore nervous. She has never had to do much in the kitchen; having always had the luxury of a maid. She finds cooking cumbersome and does not think she’s very good at it. Mridul is better at it than she is – but he can be disorganised, and not too motivated to do it, unless it’s a Sunday and the children insist. She isn’t expecting him to be of much help, and the children must eat, right?

She opens the fridge to see what they have. The fridge is stocked for at least two weeks, but she’s worried they might need to make another grocery run soon. She takes out a packet of brown bread, six eggs, a carton of milk, some celery, cheese, and onions. Cheese-omelette-on-toast is what the family is going to have today for breakfast.

In about half an hour, she is done. She sets the table, lays out glasses of milk for everyone, along with a plateful of toasted bread and fluffy omelettes. It’s hard work, since she is not used to it, but she feels happy about it. There’s something about working with your own hands to make food for your family that keeps you grounded. It takes love and patience and shows that you care. She hopes her family is going to be pleased.

Not bad, Sita, eh?

She misses Sita, her house help of many years. Before the lockdown, Sita came to their house twice a day – to clean and to cook. Sometimes, she even bought groceries for them and minded the kids when the parents had to work late. Suvin had tried to persuade Sita to stay with them during the lockdown – she’d even promised to pay extra – but Sita had politely declined.

The children saunter into the living room. They are bleary-eyed and jumpy, as if they haven’t slept well.

“You made breakfast?” Tara asks.

“I did,” Suvini replies, giving her daughter a warm smile.

It is not returned.

Damien sits facing Tara. “So, Sita is not coming?” he asks.

“Not during the lockdown,” Suvini says. “You know that already.”

“Did she call you?”

“Not yet.”

The children stare at their plates.

“Looks cool,” Tara mumbles.

When Damien digs into his omelette to eat, “Wait for your father,” Suvini instructs.

They usually ate at different times, in their rooms or while watching television, but today, Suvini wants to start the day with a meal together as a family. This could be something to try out during the lockdown. A fresh start.

Shut The Lights

Excerpted with permission from Shut The Lights, Smita Bhattacharya, Pixie Dust.