An American Brat by Bapsi Sidhwa Read Free Book Online

York to receiveher. He’ll take good care of her. Now don’t worry.”
    Zareen was aware, at the periphery of her vision, of the slowly dawning creases of astonishment beginning to wreathe her mother’s mobile features. She braced herself.
    â€œManek?” Khutlibai sounded astounded. “You’re going to leave her care to Manek? God help the child!”
    And Khutlibai brought her considerable histrionic abilities to bear as well on what she said next. “Don’t you remember how he chased her all over the neighborhood with a shotgun? Luckily she wasn’t seriously injured. And how he made her run round and round the compound, cracking that hunter’s whip of his? Ask me how many times I’ve had to save her from being maimed. I didn’t tell you this, but one time he helped her up a tree and began sawing off the branch she was sitting on! I’ll tell you how he will look after her. He’ll push her into the nearest well!”
    â€œI doubt there are any wells in America,” Zareen said dryly. She was already beginning to feel battle-weary.
    But Khutlibai was in full throttle. “With no one to look out for her, he will bully her to his heart’s content. No,” she switched to emphatic English, “I will not permit it to happen. I will put my foot down!” Khutlibai raised a leaden leg and clumsily thudded it down. The flimsy TV table tipped precariously. Zareen and Khutlibai both reached out to prevent the dishes from crashing.
    â€œIt’s all right, Mumma, I’ll get it.” Zareen said, bending swiftly to retrieve the teaspoons, forks, and spilled pakoras from the carpet.
    Khutlibai looked on, flustered and contrite.
    Quick to grab the unexpected advantage she had suddenly gained and in the same warm tone of voice and reassuring manner, Zareen said, “Mumma, I wish you could have heard Manek yourself; if only it weren’t so difficult to get through to America. I could tell he’s changed! He sounded quite responsible and dependable. I think he has matured!”
    Zareen’s liberal and impressive use of English words, and the conviction vibrant in her voice, communicated to her mother some part of the excitement and awe she had felt after her conversationwith Manek.
    â€œI think he’s going to surprise us all,” Zareen said, surprised by the emotional charge in her voice. Simultaneously her eyes filled with tears of relief and thankfulness at the thought of the alteration America had wrought in her brother.
    The new subtleties Zareen had detected in the modulation of Manek’s voice had indicated self-reliance, a novel consideration for her anxieties and feelings, and an even less-expected ability to actually reassure her and convince her of the sincerity of his intent to look after Feroza. These nuances in the inflection of his vocal cords had been absorbed by Zareen’s eager ears as promising signs of the evolution that a stay in the mind-broadening and character-building horizons abroad was meant to confer upon the unrefined native sensibility.
    All this was quite apart from the blooming of genius an expensive education (in Manek’s case at M.I.T.) was expected to ensure. All Parsee boys, by virtue of their demanding roles as men, were presumed to be geniuses until they proved themselves nincompoops. And since the community’s understanding of genius was inextricably knit with the facility to make money and acquire a certain standing — even if only within the community — the men generally measured up. The community bristled with financial, business, engineering, doctoring, accounting, stockbrokering, computing, and researching geniuses.
    Not being burdened with similar expectations, the girls were not required to study abroad. If they persisted, and if the family could afford it, they might be affectionately indulged. It was also expedient sometimes to send them to finishing schools in Europe,