By Sushi
60-year old Simple D’souza cursed his wife as she shook him awake one Sunday morning.
“Wake up, Simpy! Look who’s here.”
“Whoooo?”asked D’souza.
His wife whispered:
“Dimple Kapadia.”
“Big joke, Agnes.”
Dimple Kapadia was Simple D’souza’s first love.
He had tried to meet the actress several times — on movie sets and award nights — but…
“It’s your dream to dance with her, Simpy…get up.”
“Get lost.”
That wife of his, Agnes.
He had married her because SHE loved him, and wouldn’t let go.
What did she see in him?
He sold kaleidoscopes for a living, and was neither rich nor good-looking.
Dsouza got up and stared at Mumbai’s greyish dull sky.
A soar of spotted eagles glided above in a perfect circle, as if guided by an invisible hand.
He slowly opened his cupboard and picked up a kaleidoscope that had found its way to his shop ages ago.
“Simpy.”
D’souza quickly hid the kaleidoscope.
“What is it, Agnes?”
Agnes whispered again:
“Get ready! She is waiting.”
“Oh, just go, Agnes.”
Agnes ran to the kitchen where the milk had boiled over.
D’souza peered through the bedroom door to see a woman in a silk salwar sitting on the sofa.
She had lustrous white hair that was tied behind in a bun, and lips that shone a deep shade of purple.
Maybe some rich woman out to raise funds for the poor.
D’souza wore a plain shirt and hopped into his pants.
He brushed his teeth and sprayed some perfume and walked to the living room.
The woman stood up and smiled.
Her cheekbones stood out, high and splendid.
THIS WAS DIMPLE KAPADIA FOR SURE.
“Mr D’souza?”
D’souza’s eyeballs stopped moving. His heart beat like the wings of a butterfly.
Dimple Kapadia smiled again, and spoke:
“I hear you run a shop with kaleidoscopes…”
“Yes.”
“I hear you have a really special kaleidoscope that plays with my image.”
My God!
How did she know?
“Yeah…someone left it outside my shop years ago…who told you I have it?”
“Your wife. I met her outside my building today.”
Holy Shucks.
How did AGNES know?
He went in and got the kaleidoscope.
It rattled in his hands.
Dimple Kapadia busied herself with it as Agnes brought out biscuits and tea.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”asked Agnes.
She showed the actress how to hold the kaleidoscope and tilt it, and turn it back.
“You know a lot about kaleidoscopes too, Mrs D’Souza?”
“Just this one,”said Agnes.
D’souza’s gaze shifted to his wife’s face.
Agnes was short and dark, and her light brown hair fell like a curtain on her forehead.
Her feet danced around the table as she set the cups and saucers.
She smiled all the time, her left cheek giving way to an enormous dimple that could swallow the world.
“My husband is a big fan of yours…big is not the right word…he is your BIGGEST fan.”
“Is that why you waited for me outside my building today?”asked Dimple Kapadia.
Agnes shrugged her small shoulders and looked at D’Souza who mouthed:
YOU ARE MAD.
“You mind if I keep this kaleidoscope?”asked Dimple Kapadia.
“You have to dance with Simpy once,”said Agnes.
The woman was insane or what?
Dimple Kapadia laughed but Agnes added rather seriously:
“He has been dreaming of this day for more than four decades.”
Dimple Kapadia scanned Agnes’s face.
“Then why did you come to me so late, Mrs D’souza?”
“I thought I could help him forget you.”
D’souza stared at Agnes.
“And what was YOUR dream, Mrs D’souza?”
Her mouth trembled.
“To marry Simple D’souza,”said Agnes.
Everyone sipped their tea in silence until Agnes ran to switch on the music.
She then stood in a corner like a nervous child.
As the music began, Dimple Kapadia looked at D’souza, but his wet eyes were on his wife.
Dimple Kapadia left Simple D’souza’s house without uttering another word.
Before Agnes could say anything, D’souza walked to where his wife stood and put his arms around her bony waist.
“How did you know about that kaleidoscope?”he asked.
“Who do you think left it outside your shop?”
D’Souza froze.
“Did you make it yourself, Agnes?”
“Yes. It made you so happy.”
“Why do you love me like this?”
She mouthed:
I AM MAD.
D’souza wanted to go in and cry his heart out for whatever reason, but he slowly led his wife to the centre of the room instead.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
D’souza wondered why he had never noticed that galactic dimple before.
“I thought you wanted to dance with Dimple Kapadia,”said Agnes.
“I chased the wrong dimple all my life, Agnes.”
They glided together in perfect circles that Sunday morning, as if guided by an invisible hand — Simple D’souza and his dimpled wife —
— like the soar of spotted eagles D’souza had seen in Mumbai’s greyish dull sky.
(ends)