A bright, resplendent golden sheet of sun spread over Matthew’s face. The morning had whipped in a strange kind of happiness, as the smell of baking brownies wavered across his nose. He walked to the kitchen and noticed a perturbed Mrs Fernandes testing the flavour of roasted walnuts with her arcane senses. He felt at ease. She was alright after all.
He was anxious when he told her; she wasn’t allowed to drive, like the other ladies in the neighbourhood.But Mrs Fernandes preferred a quiet surrender and returned to her half-done dough mixture for the raisin cake. She stirred, and stirred till the contours of the container did not leave any mucky marks of beginners.
Matthew marveled a little, and then his eyes fell on the crumpled brown dress on the ironing board. He remembered how Mrs Fernandes longed for that floral skirt, embroidered with intricate craftsmanship. Ever since, Mrs Gupta visited the ‘County Special’ store, all she did was gasp about this cheap store and especially this bright floral skirt. But Matthew hated the sheer unwelcome gesture of skirts.He hastily selected a Victorian brown dress with careless long sleeves. She never waged war even then. Instead,she went home and plated a dish of fine Singaporean prawn with Asian flavours. She had spent a lot of time, carefully carving the yellow capsicum, till she decided it wasn’t needed at all.
Matthew walked back to his bedroom and closed the door. He lighted a cigar. He remembered how he had caught Mrs Fernandes relishing the vermin of those brown cigars. She was almost ecstatic and sensed a forbidden feeling of freedom, when Matthew caught her by neck and punitively drove her into the wall. She squealed a little, but submitted weakly. Later on, that night she brewed a cup of fabulous coffee with rich cocoa - and he wondered whether it was a bold expression of anger, mixed with no milk and very little sugar. Just the way, he enjoyed his coffee.
He closed his eyes, and recalled the last Christmas eve in Delhi. Mrs Fernandes had worn a Bohemian scarf gifted by Mrs Gupta’s daughter-in-law. What was the need to follow popular culture? Matthew resented the bright colours, the bizarre, feverish designs, the twists and tangles of stripes. Mrs Fernandes d stacked it away onto the old pile of clothes. The Christmas was merry indeed. She had prepared a beautiful roast turkey with apple sauce. That grandiose meal was hearty and the glint of the sauce…
The door knob made a rude noise, as Mrs Fernandes walked in with the tray of brownies.The burnt smell of chocolate and the delicate texture of the brownies filled the room with delayed mirth. Matthew tried an encouraging smile, as she offered him a plate of gorgeous brownies. He bit into one. The brownies were so soft. Matthew wolfed the entire plate.
He did not know whether it was guilt or remorse, terrible heart ache or sheer avarice that suddenly caused him to stir wildly on his arm chair. He was filled with pain and he clutched his chest like a toy. He tried to get a glass of water but miserably lay still.
The sun slowly began to temper, as the light wind carried the smell of the walnut brownies down to the street, where sweaty children played hop-scotch.
