Kinky

There I am, sitting in the balcony and working out my study plan for the day with Paati when we hear a scream from the apartment block next to ours. A sliding door crashes open and Kinkyni and her mom appear on one of their balconies grappling with each other. ‘You stay away from me! I hate you! Who asked you to come here anyway! You have no right to tell me what to do! I’m going to jump right now! Stay away or I’ll jump!’ 

‘There they go again,’ I mutter. 

‘Call the watchman! Call the fire brigade! Suicide helpline!’ Paati gasps. 

‘Oh chill Paati! Nothing’s gonna happen!’ I try to calm her. ‘They really are cool with each other. This show is for our benefit…like reality TV.’ Can’t say I blame poor Paati for giving me a disbelieving look. I remember how scared I was when I first saw this crap. It took me till episode 15 to settle down and just watch.

Kinkyni lives alone—in the sense that the flat is all hers. On most nights she’s got friends going in and out of there like cockroaches. Some look more thuggish, like bandicoots. Some of them stay on for days like they live there, and make a lot of noise and play loud music and scream and shout loud enough to bring a hundred Grand Canyons down.

Once in a while her mom or dad come visiting and the roaches and coots disappear and we’re randomly switched to another entertainment channel. Funny, but things used to be real quiet when they all lived together. Then her dad got transferred to Mumbai and her mom and little sister went off to be with him while she stayed back to finish college. And apparently they all got interested in drama around the same time.

This thing between Kinky and her mom starts with some idiotic quarrel and then the two of them take turns threatening to dive from assorted balconies, hanging over the railings like stick mops. The first few times I freaked and thought someone would really jump. But then a little later you see the two of them going out, hands clasped and  heads close together, smiling away to glory while the rest of us sit around nursing our shattered nerves. Once, when it was all new, a whole horde of aunties went and rang their bell in a big panic after one of these you’ll-kill-me-I’ll-kill-you sessions. Mom-lady opens the door with a big wide smile and says that they were only having a ‘small fight’ and everything is alright. And Kinky flashed them a 100 watt-er for good measure. I think everyone kind of left them alone after that. I’m, like, dude, I’m glad we don’t get to see the ‘big fights’. 

Paati keeps letting out short shrill shrieks every time one of them leans over and I finally ask her to go inside and pray or something and she and looks relieved and starts singing one of her god songs even as she exits to the right. Five minutes later the wrestling match is called off and everything is quiet and in a bit Kinky’s talking to her dad on the phone in pouty tones asking him to send her money and double her allowance.

Then Mom-lady calls out from inside. ‘You study for one or two hours. I’ll call the taxi and we’ll go shopping after lunch, ok?’ 

‘Cool! Thanks so much Mama, I loooove you!’ Kinky sing songs and makes kissy kissy noises. 

Paati peeps out cautiously and I say, ‘What did I tell you? It’s ok. They’re not going to 

jump today. See? They’re going shopping instead.’