A Fine Balance

by Rohinton Mistry

‘I think I will visit our relatives. And also Dina Aunty.’ Her brisk efforts with his wet hair added a curious vibrato to his voice. ‘How funny you sound. As if you were trying to talk and gargle at the same time.’ She laughed and put away the napkin. ‘They’ll be so happy to see you. When will you leave?’ ‘Tomorrow morning.’ ‘Tomorrow?’ She wondered if it was a ruse to get away from her. ‘And when will you return here?’ ‘I think I’ll go back to Dubai straight from there. More convenient.’ She knew the hurt was showing in her face, and he did not seem aware of it. His words grew indistinct to her ears, already travelling the distance he was to put between them. ‘What I want to do‚’ he continued, ‘is get back to my job quickly – give them notice, find out how soon they will release me.’ ‘You mean, resign? And then?’ ‘I’ve decided to come back and settle here.’ Her breath quickened. ‘That’s a wonderful plan‚’ she said, restraining, as best she could, the tide of emotion that swept through her. ‘You can start your own business by selling the shop and –’ ‘No. The shop is why I’m coming back.’ ‘Daddy would like that.’ He left the table and went to the window. It did not always have to end badly – he was going to prove it to himself. First he would meet all his friends: Om, happily married, and his wife, and at least two or three children by now; what would their names be? If there was a boy, surely Narayan. And Ishvar, the proud grand-uncle, beaming away at his sewing-machine, d...