A morning by the river
The river meandered around the curves of the land, swelling and sinking on the way. Its color changed depending on the time of the day and the season.When the sun rose the orangish tint that it took on gave a glow to the whole place, it moved on sinking the tint deep under. The moss covered banks were slippery and slushy.Sleepy kids brushed their yellowy teeth on the banks and spit their greenish paste into the water. The river moved on mixing in the pasty phlegm and trying to cover up the embarrassment. The coconut trees on the side swayed lightly in the breeze, some of them lying half way across the breadth of the river, from where kids could jump right into the middle of the water.
Women washed their dirty laundry on the banks while yapping loudly, they complained about their lazy husbands and heartless sons. The clothes were scrubbed loudly on the rocks by the side and the dirty water joined the river, again it tried to hide the dirt and the soapy bubbles from the bar soap. It did not hold on to the stories it heard every day, it moved on , to reach its destiny.
A coconut that broke off from the tree when a rascal was jumping, bobbed up and down in the stream. It tried to move slowly to the side but the river was quick to catch up. It was forced once again into the stream pushed forcefully and moved towards unknown lands. A little leaf joined in the journey but was soon separated from the coconut as they both had different destinies. The leaf tried to flow by but got stuck beside a little rock . It repeatedly tried to overcome the rock but finally gave up and nestled next to the rock, a pact of peace indeed. The coconut kept pace , not fighting the rhythm, not looking back at the tree it came from, bobbing up and down as before.
Rain drops started to fall like little buttons first and then gained momentum. Buttons turned to little balls and then to big balls. The gla gla song that the river was singing until then turned to the blurp blurp. Raindrops made designs of great beauty and the trees swayed to show their appreciation to the kaleidoscope of nature displayed in front of them. A fog like hue descended which covered the orange tint with great mastery. RAIN RAIN…….
The little leaf suddenly gained its freedom and took the chance to flee. Rock was not amused, it gazed on. Happy to have company the river took the traveler along.
The eeriness of the fog scared the crows and other birds who came to hide under the leaves on the tree. They flapped their wings and shook off the water from the feathers only to be wet again. A couple of myenas sat close together giving each other warmth and looked lazily at the river.
River moved on, as it always has , towards its destination.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
The Fort
The bus took a winding path along the rocky terrain and there, the fort of Sinhagad was in full view. The once magnificent and majestic, the pride of the Marathas for which the great Narvir Tanaji lost his life.
“We have over three hours to spend in this fort. Please make sure that all of you get back to the bus at 2.00 pm sharp. The time now is 11.00am” the announcement from the tour guide woke me up from the reverie.
“Let us climb those stairs and see who reaches the top first”
Payal was still her energetic self; it has been four days since we left the hostel to loosen ourselves in the treasures of a hidden India. We have always been excited and fascinated by the great history of India and especially the Maratha Empire. Shivaji with all his handsomeness and valor played a “number on us” as we put it. So here we are vagabonds trying to hide from our protective families and discover a little part of the universe on our own.
The fort had steep stairs at the entrance, the stairs in a dilapidated condition. Tourists were mulling around and yawning from boredom. In this technological era no one seem to have to time to think of the great war and the victory of the Marathas over the then powerful Mughal kingdom. This is just another stop for most to look around and have their vada paav on top of one of the rocks, may be that the great Shivaji himself sat on very same rock.
“Come on, Vrinda, let us run up the stairs.”
We both started running up the stairs, it helped that we did not have heavy backpacks, just a couple of tops and the unmentionables and a few hundred rupees. Payal as usual reached the top first. She has always been the athletic one among my friends. She did her regular “nana na boo boo” stint on top and I as usual ignored her.
We strayed from our tour group comprising of some honey-mooners, some older couples and a few college guys who were trying to hit on us right from the start of the trip. They soon lost their interest when they realized that we were not looking for company.
The fort looked haunted to me, I heard faint sounds of horse hoofs, the war cries, but when I talked about this to Payal she laughed.
“Here you go again, Vrinda, you’ll never change. You and your great imagination”
I kept hearing the hoofs but did not dare to mention that again to Payal. We went around the fort to see the huge cannon halls. The little spaces with grass growing all around the rocks, the board saying that it is a heritage site and that the Archeological Society of India has taken over the maintenance of the fort etc etc. The heat of the summer sun was wearing us out. People who were interested in looking around were far off. We sat on top of one of the rocks of the fort but quickly jumped away. The fort was of such height that the trees looked like puny babies wailing from down below. I had no wish to fall to death especially at this sweet age.
There were some local women sitting in the shade a little distance away. They had their colorful sarees wound around their head and they were fanning themselves with the tips of the same saree. We walked over; the women had little matkas of buttermilk with them, which they were selling. Payal asked for two for both of us, in Marathi. Even after years of living in Maharashtra I had not picked up much Marathi other than to say “hello” and “where are you going”
We paid 6 rupees for two matkas and sat beside the women, they were very happy to make some space for us to sit as well. Payal started chatting away with them and explained to me that they had come from the village which lay below the fort and that they come every day to sell matkas of butter milk. The usually bring 50-60 matkas and butter milk in a big can. On a good day they can sell all of their matkas and hence make some money.
The buttermilk tasted heavenly, sweet and sour and salty. The tastes played a dance on my tongue. We sat there drinking the buttermilk and chatting to the women for some more time.
We went to explore the rest of the fort, hidden corridors, and secret meeting rooms. Once again the sound of the horse hoofs are getting louder. I see the lion of Marathas, his heroic stance with the sword pulled out.
‘You are out to lunch again , aren’t you” Payal chirping
No, I was just looking around and thinking how it must have been in the past.
“You are too much of a dreamer”
The Casanova’s that we had in the bus came back to hit on us. Possibly thinking that we would be game in a heritage site. Payal asked them to go take a hike.
We found a cool spot in one of the corners of the fort where no one was going in. People seem, to loose interest in the place soon after they come up the stairs and hence they don’t even go to the area at the back. History does not hold much value anymore. Valor does not seem to respected anymore either, all that matter is money.
There is another hour to go before we need to head back to the bus, we decided to take out one of our tops and lie on a rock in the shade.
Horse hoofs getting louder, Maratha emperor’s voice echoing through the walls, the cries of the wounded soldiers, the Mughals retreating and pacing back for the forests and hiding behind the mountains.
By the time we woke up, sun was setting and the time was 5pm.
“Oh my god, the bus”.
We took our tops that we were using as pillows and started to run. We came to the front of the fort and saw that our bus had left already. There were a couple of other tourist buses, which were getting filled up as well.
“How do we get back from this god forsaken place”, Payal was on the verge of tears. It was time for me to be brave.
“Remember the tour guide saying that there is a small little guest house run by a family out here”
“So”
“This is a beautiful place, let us stay here tonight. No one will be looking for us tonight anyway”
Payal was shocked by this bold proposal coming from me. Should we at least try to squeeze into one of those buses Then we both decided “Naaah”
The fort looked beautiful under the setting sun, most people had left the fort, the women who were selling buttermilk were wrapping up their stuff to leave the fort as well and was shocked to see us still there. Payal got the directions to the guest house from them and also advise from them that two girls should not be staying alone in an isolated guest house. We said thanks for the directions and the free advise and started to tread our way to the guesthouse.
Crickets had started to chip away and there was an eerie air to the whole place. Sun’s rays were receding fast and it looked as if the trees were getting ready to sleep. Birds were making their way back to their nests.
Walk around the fort was not easy as there were lots of thorny plants around. The thorns were getting caught on our jeans. We stopped on our way to take out the thorns.
At a little distance we saw a small little place with the lights on. The verandah was bare except for a little table, which was rather strange.
There was no calling bell outside but we could hear a child crying inside. We knocked at the door and much to our relief a young woman opened the door. She looked very surprised to see us and asked us in Marathi as to why we were there
Payal informed her that we were looking for a place to stay for the night. She looked around us possibly looking for that escort. Payal explained that we were on our own and she couldn’t help but say “Hey Ram !”
She, Manjusha explained that she and her husband are the caretakers for the guesthouse and that on most days there are no bookings. She was eager to assist us and showed us to a small but clean room with four beds. She informed us that most of the time when there is a booking it is for a big group or big family; hence they have rooms with four or more beds in it. We made sure that she would be charging us for just the two beds. We paid her the 300rs, which was the cost of the bed and meals. She asked us what we would like for dinner and we agreed on rotis, daal and baingun fry (we asked for okra bhaji but she did not have any okra and it was too late to get some from the village)
The rooms were on one side of the guesthouse and Manjusha and family lived on the other side. There was a small veranda outside our room, which looked into the valley on one side of the fort. The forts looked, dejected and lonely and seem to be calling me.
“Come Vrinda, come.
I will show you what happened. Come Vrinda”
Soon we had our shower and felt quite fresh. Night was pitch dark, stars twinkling up in the sky, cricket chirping was a lot louder. We sat on the verandah and looked out. Our stomachs were growling. After our breakfast this morning we hadn’t had anything decent until now. Payal started to sing to her imaginary lover, “Just think of me and I will be there, don’t be afraid oh my love….”
We heard Munjusha calling out, “Didi, food is ready” we had gotten used to being called Didi by everyone, that seem to be Marathi culture. Didi did not mean big sister alone, it was a way to give respect
Rice, rotis, daal and bahji were so good that we were ready to eat our fingers which brought those heavenly things to our mouth. Balram, Munjusha’s husband who seemed like a very pleasant guy came over to make sure that we were okay and that we did not need anything else. We confirmed that we were comfortable. After another hour of lazing around in the verandah we decided to hit the sack.
******
Pitch dark, sound of the horse hooves getting louder and louder. People crying, the swish of the swords. Brave Narvir Tanaji fighting on top of the horse, the pet lizard of Shivaji dragging the rope up the fort.
My sleep was disturbed. I saw Shivaji being informed by the messenger that the fort is ours but brave Nanaji was killed in the battle
Upset Shivaji said
“Gadh Ala, pan Sinha Gela”
other courtiers were all echoing “ Gadh Ala , Pan Sinha Gela”
Shivaji came to the fort to pay respects. Horse hooves, the sounds dying down. The fort ruled by the Marathas, the height of maratha glory.
******
Was that a dream??? The whole night seemed to have gone by. Light was trickling in through the curtains. Payal was sound asleep when I woke up. Does not feel like I slept at all. I woke up and went out to the verandah. Fort looks strange, is it haunted? Haunted by the unknowns who were killed in 1670, are they the souls of the Marathas or the Mughals??
Sun rising. Munjusha called out, “Didi chai ya coffee”?
Coffee, I yelled back
Suddenly this line came back to me “Gadh ala, pan sinha gela”. Since Payal was still sleeping decided to ask Munjusha. I went over to her and said
“gadh ala pan sinha gela”.
She started to laugh. I said “ meaning”
She could not understand so I came back and woke up Payal who was abusive at being woken up. I asked her what does that line mean.
She looked surprised and commented; at last you say a full Marathi sentence.
“What does that mean??
“Where did you get that sentence”
I explained about the dream and said that is what Shivaji said in the dream. Payal seemed shocked and explained that this was what Shivaji was said to have exclaimed when he was informed of the victory of the Marathas but the death of the great Narvir Tanaji.
“Gadh ala pan sinha Gela” which means the fort is gained but the lion is lost
How did I know that?? How can my mind come up with a full Marathi sentence and that too the exact sentence Shivaji said. Did I read about the fort before??
Steaming hot coffee was served by Munjusha. A lot more sugary than I like but it felt nice on my throat. As decided yesterday Munjusha served Poha and pickle for breakfast.
By eleven we were ready to leave the fort. Tourist buses had started to arrive and once again uninterested people descending upon the fort to take pictures and just look around. We went down the flight of stairs, but the fort seem to say once again
“gadh ala , pan sinha gela”
Sinhagad fort which is located near the city of pune, India, was won by the Marathas after the great battle of Sinhagad in 1670. The Great Narvir tanaji of the Marathas won over UdayBhan of the Mughals. The fort’s original name was “Kundana”
The bus took a winding path along the rocky terrain and there, the fort of Sinhagad was in full view. The once magnificent and majestic, the pride of the Marathas for which the great Narvir Tanaji lost his life.
“We have over three hours to spend in this fort. Please make sure that all of you get back to the bus at 2.00 pm sharp. The time now is 11.00am” the announcement from the tour guide woke me up from the reverie.
“Let us climb those stairs and see who reaches the top first”
Payal was still her energetic self; it has been four days since we left the hostel to loosen ourselves in the treasures of a hidden India. We have always been excited and fascinated by the great history of India and especially the Maratha Empire. Shivaji with all his handsomeness and valor played a “number on us” as we put it. So here we are vagabonds trying to hide from our protective families and discover a little part of the universe on our own.
The fort had steep stairs at the entrance, the stairs in a dilapidated condition. Tourists were mulling around and yawning from boredom. In this technological era no one seem to have to time to think of the great war and the victory of the Marathas over the then powerful Mughal kingdom. This is just another stop for most to look around and have their vada paav on top of one of the rocks, may be that the great Shivaji himself sat on very same rock.
“Come on, Vrinda, let us run up the stairs.”
We both started running up the stairs, it helped that we did not have heavy backpacks, just a couple of tops and the unmentionables and a few hundred rupees. Payal as usual reached the top first. She has always been the athletic one among my friends. She did her regular “nana na boo boo” stint on top and I as usual ignored her.
We strayed from our tour group comprising of some honey-mooners, some older couples and a few college guys who were trying to hit on us right from the start of the trip. They soon lost their interest when they realized that we were not looking for company.
The fort looked haunted to me, I heard faint sounds of horse hoofs, the war cries, but when I talked about this to Payal she laughed.
“Here you go again, Vrinda, you’ll never change. You and your great imagination”
I kept hearing the hoofs but did not dare to mention that again to Payal. We went around the fort to see the huge cannon halls. The little spaces with grass growing all around the rocks, the board saying that it is a heritage site and that the Archeological Society of India has taken over the maintenance of the fort etc etc. The heat of the summer sun was wearing us out. People who were interested in looking around were far off. We sat on top of one of the rocks of the fort but quickly jumped away. The fort was of such height that the trees looked like puny babies wailing from down below. I had no wish to fall to death especially at this sweet age.
There were some local women sitting in the shade a little distance away. They had their colorful sarees wound around their head and they were fanning themselves with the tips of the same saree. We walked over; the women had little matkas of buttermilk with them, which they were selling. Payal asked for two for both of us, in Marathi. Even after years of living in Maharashtra I had not picked up much Marathi other than to say “hello” and “where are you going”
We paid 6 rupees for two matkas and sat beside the women, they were very happy to make some space for us to sit as well. Payal started chatting away with them and explained to me that they had come from the village which lay below the fort and that they come every day to sell matkas of butter milk. The usually bring 50-60 matkas and butter milk in a big can. On a good day they can sell all of their matkas and hence make some money.
The buttermilk tasted heavenly, sweet and sour and salty. The tastes played a dance on my tongue. We sat there drinking the buttermilk and chatting to the women for some more time.
We went to explore the rest of the fort, hidden corridors, and secret meeting rooms. Once again the sound of the horse hoofs are getting louder. I see the lion of Marathas, his heroic stance with the sword pulled out.
‘You are out to lunch again , aren’t you” Payal chirping
No, I was just looking around and thinking how it must have been in the past.
“You are too much of a dreamer”
The Casanova’s that we had in the bus came back to hit on us. Possibly thinking that we would be game in a heritage site. Payal asked them to go take a hike.
We found a cool spot in one of the corners of the fort where no one was going in. People seem, to loose interest in the place soon after they come up the stairs and hence they don’t even go to the area at the back. History does not hold much value anymore. Valor does not seem to respected anymore either, all that matter is money.
There is another hour to go before we need to head back to the bus, we decided to take out one of our tops and lie on a rock in the shade.
Horse hoofs getting louder, Maratha emperor’s voice echoing through the walls, the cries of the wounded soldiers, the Mughals retreating and pacing back for the forests and hiding behind the mountains.
By the time we woke up, sun was setting and the time was 5pm.
“Oh my god, the bus”.
We took our tops that we were using as pillows and started to run. We came to the front of the fort and saw that our bus had left already. There were a couple of other tourist buses, which were getting filled up as well.
“How do we get back from this god forsaken place”, Payal was on the verge of tears. It was time for me to be brave.
“Remember the tour guide saying that there is a small little guest house run by a family out here”
“So”
“This is a beautiful place, let us stay here tonight. No one will be looking for us tonight anyway”
Payal was shocked by this bold proposal coming from me. Should we at least try to squeeze into one of those buses Then we both decided “Naaah”
The fort looked beautiful under the setting sun, most people had left the fort, the women who were selling buttermilk were wrapping up their stuff to leave the fort as well and was shocked to see us still there. Payal got the directions to the guest house from them and also advise from them that two girls should not be staying alone in an isolated guest house. We said thanks for the directions and the free advise and started to tread our way to the guesthouse.
Crickets had started to chip away and there was an eerie air to the whole place. Sun’s rays were receding fast and it looked as if the trees were getting ready to sleep. Birds were making their way back to their nests.
Walk around the fort was not easy as there were lots of thorny plants around. The thorns were getting caught on our jeans. We stopped on our way to take out the thorns.
At a little distance we saw a small little place with the lights on. The verandah was bare except for a little table, which was rather strange.
There was no calling bell outside but we could hear a child crying inside. We knocked at the door and much to our relief a young woman opened the door. She looked very surprised to see us and asked us in Marathi as to why we were there
Payal informed her that we were looking for a place to stay for the night. She looked around us possibly looking for that escort. Payal explained that we were on our own and she couldn’t help but say “Hey Ram !”
She, Manjusha explained that she and her husband are the caretakers for the guesthouse and that on most days there are no bookings. She was eager to assist us and showed us to a small but clean room with four beds. She informed us that most of the time when there is a booking it is for a big group or big family; hence they have rooms with four or more beds in it. We made sure that she would be charging us for just the two beds. We paid her the 300rs, which was the cost of the bed and meals. She asked us what we would like for dinner and we agreed on rotis, daal and baingun fry (we asked for okra bhaji but she did not have any okra and it was too late to get some from the village)
The rooms were on one side of the guesthouse and Manjusha and family lived on the other side. There was a small veranda outside our room, which looked into the valley on one side of the fort. The forts looked, dejected and lonely and seem to be calling me.
“Come Vrinda, come.
I will show you what happened. Come Vrinda”
Soon we had our shower and felt quite fresh. Night was pitch dark, stars twinkling up in the sky, cricket chirping was a lot louder. We sat on the verandah and looked out. Our stomachs were growling. After our breakfast this morning we hadn’t had anything decent until now. Payal started to sing to her imaginary lover, “Just think of me and I will be there, don’t be afraid oh my love….”
We heard Munjusha calling out, “Didi, food is ready” we had gotten used to being called Didi by everyone, that seem to be Marathi culture. Didi did not mean big sister alone, it was a way to give respect
Rice, rotis, daal and bahji were so good that we were ready to eat our fingers which brought those heavenly things to our mouth. Balram, Munjusha’s husband who seemed like a very pleasant guy came over to make sure that we were okay and that we did not need anything else. We confirmed that we were comfortable. After another hour of lazing around in the verandah we decided to hit the sack.
******
Pitch dark, sound of the horse hooves getting louder and louder. People crying, the swish of the swords. Brave Narvir Tanaji fighting on top of the horse, the pet lizard of Shivaji dragging the rope up the fort.
My sleep was disturbed. I saw Shivaji being informed by the messenger that the fort is ours but brave Nanaji was killed in the battle
Upset Shivaji said
“Gadh Ala, pan Sinha Gela”
other courtiers were all echoing “ Gadh Ala , Pan Sinha Gela”
Shivaji came to the fort to pay respects. Horse hooves, the sounds dying down. The fort ruled by the Marathas, the height of maratha glory.
******
Was that a dream??? The whole night seemed to have gone by. Light was trickling in through the curtains. Payal was sound asleep when I woke up. Does not feel like I slept at all. I woke up and went out to the verandah. Fort looks strange, is it haunted? Haunted by the unknowns who were killed in 1670, are they the souls of the Marathas or the Mughals??
Sun rising. Munjusha called out, “Didi chai ya coffee”?
Coffee, I yelled back
Suddenly this line came back to me “Gadh ala, pan sinha gela”. Since Payal was still sleeping decided to ask Munjusha. I went over to her and said
“gadh ala pan sinha gela”.
She started to laugh. I said “ meaning”
She could not understand so I came back and woke up Payal who was abusive at being woken up. I asked her what does that line mean.
She looked surprised and commented; at last you say a full Marathi sentence.
“What does that mean??
“Where did you get that sentence”
I explained about the dream and said that is what Shivaji said in the dream. Payal seemed shocked and explained that this was what Shivaji was said to have exclaimed when he was informed of the victory of the Marathas but the death of the great Narvir Tanaji.
“Gadh ala pan sinha Gela” which means the fort is gained but the lion is lost
How did I know that?? How can my mind come up with a full Marathi sentence and that too the exact sentence Shivaji said. Did I read about the fort before??
Steaming hot coffee was served by Munjusha. A lot more sugary than I like but it felt nice on my throat. As decided yesterday Munjusha served Poha and pickle for breakfast.
By eleven we were ready to leave the fort. Tourist buses had started to arrive and once again uninterested people descending upon the fort to take pictures and just look around. We went down the flight of stairs, but the fort seem to say once again
“gadh ala , pan sinha gela”
Sinhagad fort which is located near the city of pune, India, was won by the Marathas after the great battle of Sinhagad in 1670. The Great Narvir tanaji of the Marathas won over UdayBhan of the Mughals. The fort’s original name was “Kundana”
SNIPPET FROM LIFE…
When Harvey landed in the airport and walked out of the arrival lounge he knew something was wrong. He could not find mom waiting anxiously for his arrival as always. Usually by this time he will see Nancy with her head all white, with a colorful scarf tied loose, wearing a flowery dress, standing with her arms spread wide to hug her youngest son. He always walked into that warm embrace and tight squeeze and then go on chatting about how things are at the barn and how the crops were last year. She also gave him the keys to the car for him to drive them back home.
Harvey looked all around, maybe she wanted a change of place, or surprise him by hiding behind, maybe she is standing somewhere else. He had called home a few days ago to inform that he is coming and had left a very long message about the flight details. Nancy has always been great in responding to messages and mails but this time she hadn’t. The excitement of coming home again had kept him from calling again to confirm that she did get the message. Oh well I can go home and surprise her if she indeed did not know.
It wasn’t busy outside at the cab line and he was able to get into the cab driven by an ethnic man soon after. He started chatting away and Harvey informed him politely that he would prefer to be quiet as he was coming after a long journey and was tired. Not a boo was heard from him for the rest of the trip. He kept the windows slightly open, through the trip to get the cool Canadian air seep into the cab. This trip was sooner than he had expected.
Traffic was not a problem at this time of the day. Late evening on a Sunday is usually good to get around the city. Soon the city was left behind and the small town air hit him. Maybe mom thought I was old enough finally to get home on my own and did not need a grand welcome at the airport. It was with a mix of emotions that he thought of this logic. The youngest of six, he was always treated as a baby and he was rather fond of being treated that way. He was the one his mom openly preferred, and her reason was that he was the only child who did not have a chance to see his dad or be with him, so Nancy tried desperately to give him the love of a mom and dad.
Harvey had been working in construction business in Barbados for some time. He was looking for a change of place and also to open his wings and fly, away from the farm he was raised in. Nancy had never really forgiven him for that and kept hoping that one day he will be back with her to do his share of work. At 26 he wasn’t keen to do so yet, but one day he will because that is HOME.
“We are here”
The sprawling house spread out in front of him. He paid the cabby and walked in. There was light outside, he went up the familiar flight of stairs where he had fallen multiple times as a child and breathed in the HOME AIR. He had never been able to cut himself away from this place. Many a nostalgic memories haunted him whenever he was away from this place. He rang the doorbell and waited for Nancy to open the door. How come she is not waiting outside to welcome him home?
His eldest brother Dave opened the door. He looked tired. Dave hugged Harvey and welcomed him in. What is this guy doing here?? They have never been close and both of them blamed it on the years that separated them.
“Where is mom?” he asked anxiously
He was starting to be worried
“She is inside, you can see her later. First we need to talk”
“Talk about what, I need to see mom”
Harv, listen to me. Let us sit here and talk. I know that you are tired but I need to tell you something.
Everything seemed unreal. Dave wanting to talk, the eerie atmosphere in the house, mom not running out to meet him
“Mom suffered a stroke last week and was brought home from the hospital just yesterday”
Silence……………………..
“But I spoke to her two weeks ago”
“it was a stroke Harv, it happens all of a sudden, She was found on the floor when Camille came to visit. The ambulance took her to the hospital and she was on life support for a few days. The doctor told us that she has only a few days, she has had other complications as well”.
Harvey ran into mom’s room. There she was a sad reminder of the Nancy from the past. Her white hair was all pulled back and she had a tube going into her stomach and a tube coming out for her urine. Her eyes were sunken deep and her body seemed stiff.
“Mom, mom”, Harvey kept calling
“She has not been responding. We brought her home as she had always said that she wanted to die here”.
Die, who is talking about dying. Nancy was 70 years old, too young to die. Harvey had never ever given thoughts to her mom’s mortality. He always thought that mom would be around to bake goodies for children he would have one day. He started to cry, “Mom I am here. I will come back to live in the barn. I will call them up and quit. Tell me about the cows and the crops”
His sisters, Cecilia and Camille came over and hugged him. Harv, let us have something to eat
“Mom?”
“She is tube fed at present, let us eat. You must be tired”
It felt miserable sitting at the long dining table where mom was not there. A small prayer was said and everyone started to eat the spaghetti and bread, which Cecilia had brought over from her home a few doors down the road. Silence had taken over the whole family. Where there was laughter and mirth, silence and pain had taken over.
“Mom’s spaghetti is a lot better”, Harvey said as if in reverie. No one responded, not even Cecilia.
Harvey could not even finish a few morsels. He took the plate to the kitchen, cleaned the rest in the garbage and added it to the dishwasher. The family cat, Pluto meowed lightly.
Harvey went back to mom’s room. Her frail chest was slowly rising and falling. “Mom, wake up”, he said gently.
He sat there watching her. She indeed was an amazing woman, raised 6 kids on her own, made profit from the barn and gave love galore. Ian, who attended the same church after her husband’s death, courted her but she was not interested in another relationship. Ian had promised to raise all six children as his own and not to make too many demands, whatever that means, but Nancy was sure about her decision.
Cecilia came by to say that she was going back to her own home and will be back as soon as possible in the morning and Dave also left as he had to pick up his daughter from Toronto. Camille promised to stay over to help if needed. The caregiver whom they had hired to look after mom came by this time. Harvey told her that she does not need to stay today as he wanted to be alone with mom but she will be paid for the night as well. He saw a flicker of joy on her face, but Camille insisted that she stay, as he can’t change mom’s catheter and diapers on his own.
Mom wearing a diaper, She would hate that. She was always clean and proper. She would wash her hands twice after using the toilet and once again before she starts cooking.
The caregiver, Julia and Camille decided to change mom right now so that everyone can get some sleep. Harvey left the room. He went to the bathroom and cried. He wailed for some time until Camille called him. He came out and was hugged tightly by his sister. They held each other for some time.
“You need to pull it together Harv, you were her favorite”
“I am still her favorite, she is not dead yet, you know”. He wanted to be mad at someone and Camille seemed to be the easy bait.
Camille held on to him and then told him that she was going upstairs to have some sleep. She hadn’t slept well for several days and was tired. She told him that there was bed ready for him upstairs as well. Harvey decided to stay in Nancy’s room and took Julia’s spot on the sofa beside Nancy. He asked Julia to sleep in the family room.
He lay on the sofa and looked at mom. She seemed so peaceful. She has always been a content person. Is she content now?
There were creaking sounds upstairs. This house always made strange noises. Pluto was purring and getting settled on the sofa himself.
Harvey was unsure as to when he fell asleep. His dreams were mixed, in Barbados in Canada; Nancy playing with him and strange dreams of Nancy driving the construction truck in the building site without a helmet and he called out “Mom!”
Harvey woke up in sweat. He saw Nancy move, in that dim light he saw that she was looking at him. Her hand slowly raised and he heard her call, “Harv my son”.
He extended his hand to hold on to her hand and soon the hand fell.
“Mom, mom, mom”
There was one deep breath and then……… Nancy was gone
He felt like he was choking, choking with emotions. He held on to that frail hand and massaged that hand, in circles just like she always liked it. He stayed there with her singing in very low voice. Let Camille and Julia sleep.
Mom, I wanted to tell you all about Susan. I love her mom.
He looked anxiously at Nancy for a response. Not sure how long he stayed like that. Camille came down the stairs to make sure that everything was all right. She came over to the room without turning on the light not wanting to wake him up. In the faint light of the night lamp she saw him massaging mom’s hand. She turned on the light and started to check mom’s vitals and turned pale.
“When, when did this happen?”
I don’t know, some time back. She called me before she left
Camille ran out of the room and started to make phone calls. Julia also woke up and came over.
Camille came back and said, Dr Williams will be here soon. He had asked us to call whenever there is a need. Lights in the house were turned on soon. People started to arrive, Dr Williams pronounced Nancy “dead”.
Harvey told Dave, “She called me before she died”
“Not possible. Doctors had said that she was in a permanent vegetative state”
“But she did”
Funeral arrangements were made. Two of his brothers could not make it, as they were too busy but sent condolence cards. Mom was buried right beside dad whom he had never seen. Bread served with tea smelled right and fresh. People came by to talk but Harvey did not want to. He moved away to the piano, which Nancy was very fond of. She would have liked to have a song played for her right now.
Harvey sat on the bench beside the piano and started to play.
*********************************************************************
When Harvey landed in the airport and walked out of the arrival lounge he knew something was wrong. He could not find mom waiting anxiously for his arrival as always. Usually by this time he will see Nancy with her head all white, with a colorful scarf tied loose, wearing a flowery dress, standing with her arms spread wide to hug her youngest son. He always walked into that warm embrace and tight squeeze and then go on chatting about how things are at the barn and how the crops were last year. She also gave him the keys to the car for him to drive them back home.
Harvey looked all around, maybe she wanted a change of place, or surprise him by hiding behind, maybe she is standing somewhere else. He had called home a few days ago to inform that he is coming and had left a very long message about the flight details. Nancy has always been great in responding to messages and mails but this time she hadn’t. The excitement of coming home again had kept him from calling again to confirm that she did get the message. Oh well I can go home and surprise her if she indeed did not know.
It wasn’t busy outside at the cab line and he was able to get into the cab driven by an ethnic man soon after. He started chatting away and Harvey informed him politely that he would prefer to be quiet as he was coming after a long journey and was tired. Not a boo was heard from him for the rest of the trip. He kept the windows slightly open, through the trip to get the cool Canadian air seep into the cab. This trip was sooner than he had expected.
Traffic was not a problem at this time of the day. Late evening on a Sunday is usually good to get around the city. Soon the city was left behind and the small town air hit him. Maybe mom thought I was old enough finally to get home on my own and did not need a grand welcome at the airport. It was with a mix of emotions that he thought of this logic. The youngest of six, he was always treated as a baby and he was rather fond of being treated that way. He was the one his mom openly preferred, and her reason was that he was the only child who did not have a chance to see his dad or be with him, so Nancy tried desperately to give him the love of a mom and dad.
Harvey had been working in construction business in Barbados for some time. He was looking for a change of place and also to open his wings and fly, away from the farm he was raised in. Nancy had never really forgiven him for that and kept hoping that one day he will be back with her to do his share of work. At 26 he wasn’t keen to do so yet, but one day he will because that is HOME.
“We are here”
The sprawling house spread out in front of him. He paid the cabby and walked in. There was light outside, he went up the familiar flight of stairs where he had fallen multiple times as a child and breathed in the HOME AIR. He had never been able to cut himself away from this place. Many a nostalgic memories haunted him whenever he was away from this place. He rang the doorbell and waited for Nancy to open the door. How come she is not waiting outside to welcome him home?
His eldest brother Dave opened the door. He looked tired. Dave hugged Harvey and welcomed him in. What is this guy doing here?? They have never been close and both of them blamed it on the years that separated them.
“Where is mom?” he asked anxiously
He was starting to be worried
“She is inside, you can see her later. First we need to talk”
“Talk about what, I need to see mom”
Harv, listen to me. Let us sit here and talk. I know that you are tired but I need to tell you something.
Everything seemed unreal. Dave wanting to talk, the eerie atmosphere in the house, mom not running out to meet him
“Mom suffered a stroke last week and was brought home from the hospital just yesterday”
Silence……………………..
“But I spoke to her two weeks ago”
“it was a stroke Harv, it happens all of a sudden, She was found on the floor when Camille came to visit. The ambulance took her to the hospital and she was on life support for a few days. The doctor told us that she has only a few days, she has had other complications as well”.
Harvey ran into mom’s room. There she was a sad reminder of the Nancy from the past. Her white hair was all pulled back and she had a tube going into her stomach and a tube coming out for her urine. Her eyes were sunken deep and her body seemed stiff.
“Mom, mom”, Harvey kept calling
“She has not been responding. We brought her home as she had always said that she wanted to die here”.
Die, who is talking about dying. Nancy was 70 years old, too young to die. Harvey had never ever given thoughts to her mom’s mortality. He always thought that mom would be around to bake goodies for children he would have one day. He started to cry, “Mom I am here. I will come back to live in the barn. I will call them up and quit. Tell me about the cows and the crops”
His sisters, Cecilia and Camille came over and hugged him. Harv, let us have something to eat
“Mom?”
“She is tube fed at present, let us eat. You must be tired”
It felt miserable sitting at the long dining table where mom was not there. A small prayer was said and everyone started to eat the spaghetti and bread, which Cecilia had brought over from her home a few doors down the road. Silence had taken over the whole family. Where there was laughter and mirth, silence and pain had taken over.
“Mom’s spaghetti is a lot better”, Harvey said as if in reverie. No one responded, not even Cecilia.
Harvey could not even finish a few morsels. He took the plate to the kitchen, cleaned the rest in the garbage and added it to the dishwasher. The family cat, Pluto meowed lightly.
Harvey went back to mom’s room. Her frail chest was slowly rising and falling. “Mom, wake up”, he said gently.
He sat there watching her. She indeed was an amazing woman, raised 6 kids on her own, made profit from the barn and gave love galore. Ian, who attended the same church after her husband’s death, courted her but she was not interested in another relationship. Ian had promised to raise all six children as his own and not to make too many demands, whatever that means, but Nancy was sure about her decision.
Cecilia came by to say that she was going back to her own home and will be back as soon as possible in the morning and Dave also left as he had to pick up his daughter from Toronto. Camille promised to stay over to help if needed. The caregiver whom they had hired to look after mom came by this time. Harvey told her that she does not need to stay today as he wanted to be alone with mom but she will be paid for the night as well. He saw a flicker of joy on her face, but Camille insisted that she stay, as he can’t change mom’s catheter and diapers on his own.
Mom wearing a diaper, She would hate that. She was always clean and proper. She would wash her hands twice after using the toilet and once again before she starts cooking.
The caregiver, Julia and Camille decided to change mom right now so that everyone can get some sleep. Harvey left the room. He went to the bathroom and cried. He wailed for some time until Camille called him. He came out and was hugged tightly by his sister. They held each other for some time.
“You need to pull it together Harv, you were her favorite”
“I am still her favorite, she is not dead yet, you know”. He wanted to be mad at someone and Camille seemed to be the easy bait.
Camille held on to him and then told him that she was going upstairs to have some sleep. She hadn’t slept well for several days and was tired. She told him that there was bed ready for him upstairs as well. Harvey decided to stay in Nancy’s room and took Julia’s spot on the sofa beside Nancy. He asked Julia to sleep in the family room.
He lay on the sofa and looked at mom. She seemed so peaceful. She has always been a content person. Is she content now?
There were creaking sounds upstairs. This house always made strange noises. Pluto was purring and getting settled on the sofa himself.
Harvey was unsure as to when he fell asleep. His dreams were mixed, in Barbados in Canada; Nancy playing with him and strange dreams of Nancy driving the construction truck in the building site without a helmet and he called out “Mom!”
Harvey woke up in sweat. He saw Nancy move, in that dim light he saw that she was looking at him. Her hand slowly raised and he heard her call, “Harv my son”.
He extended his hand to hold on to her hand and soon the hand fell.
“Mom, mom, mom”
There was one deep breath and then……… Nancy was gone
He felt like he was choking, choking with emotions. He held on to that frail hand and massaged that hand, in circles just like she always liked it. He stayed there with her singing in very low voice. Let Camille and Julia sleep.
Mom, I wanted to tell you all about Susan. I love her mom.
He looked anxiously at Nancy for a response. Not sure how long he stayed like that. Camille came down the stairs to make sure that everything was all right. She came over to the room without turning on the light not wanting to wake him up. In the faint light of the night lamp she saw him massaging mom’s hand. She turned on the light and started to check mom’s vitals and turned pale.
“When, when did this happen?”
I don’t know, some time back. She called me before she left
Camille ran out of the room and started to make phone calls. Julia also woke up and came over.
Camille came back and said, Dr Williams will be here soon. He had asked us to call whenever there is a need. Lights in the house were turned on soon. People started to arrive, Dr Williams pronounced Nancy “dead”.
Harvey told Dave, “She called me before she died”
“Not possible. Doctors had said that she was in a permanent vegetative state”
“But she did”
Funeral arrangements were made. Two of his brothers could not make it, as they were too busy but sent condolence cards. Mom was buried right beside dad whom he had never seen. Bread served with tea smelled right and fresh. People came by to talk but Harvey did not want to. He moved away to the piano, which Nancy was very fond of. She would have liked to have a song played for her right now.
Harvey sat on the bench beside the piano and started to play.
*********************************************************************
Train Journey
As usual it was quite crowded when the Jayanti Janata came to the station. Lots of people trying to get in and lots to get out. All of them with huge packets, and boxes, some filled with coconuts, rice, bananas , mattress pushing and pulling to get in and then to find the reserved seating area. Wailing babies are the most irritating, some of them hold on to their little cookies and cry with their eyes all red and nose running. Once they get to their seating area there is a bustle again to push the luggage under the seat or to dump them on the top berth, this also creates a racket if there happens to be someone sleeping up, and the bag is thrown on top of them. Quite a hilarious scene to see a much irritated oldie getting up to scream and yell pushing away the heavy bag on his head. Right before the train starts moving again some older women on the platform wipes the tears away and lovingly tells their family inside to take care and write once they reach their destination. They hold each others hands through the train window pushing the poor soul sitting on the side of the window and then the train starts moving again “ koooooooo chu chu chu”.
Then there are the little chai wallas jumping off the moving train like rats trying to get out of a house on fire, the door is closed again by someone who came out of the stinky toilet and the train is well set on the trip to Bombay.
Traveling by second class on bharatiya railway has always been my favorite way to travel. It is like watching a movie for three whole days, drenched in sweat and soot and stinky by the second day. But the smell is often flown away by the speeding train and the stink is no longer a stink when it is a mass of people stinking in unison. I had learned to and even started to research on the different varieties of human small, oldie smell, young cute smell, baby smell, women smell, regular men smell and then there is the beggar smell which indeed is quite distinctive. The toilet smell in the train is the most indescribable of all, the smell of filth and poop and pee all mixed together. UUUUHHHH, that is the one thing I hated, using the stinky toilet, can’t avoid it for three days. I always planned ahead though, medication for diarrhea and UTI was always with me, and I would need it once I reach Bombay
“ mol engotta”
Ouch, this oldie is trying to make friends with me, might as well act rude to keep him at an arms length, or else he will ruin my movie , for three whole days
“Mumbai”
“Ottekko”
then he turned to his plump wife and said, “girls these days, traveling alone for 3 days to Bombay, well we should blame these parents, no concern for safety.
Then he turned back at me and said
“Don’t worry we will help you out”
Oh no, Oh no, I don’t’ need any help, just leave me alone
I pulled the muscles on my face to make a smile; it does get hard at times. Pulled out a book from my stash in the bag while the oldie and family were busy rearranging their luggage under the seat so that everything could be squeezed in. Heard a crack inside one of the bags while they were pushing and he complained that probably it was the kuzhambu bottle, oh no, I don’t’ want sticky liquid all over my new ghagra, Jumped up and pulled out the bag which was beside the bags he was pushing and pulling and kept it safely under my own seat where there was some space.
The train was zooming past, The lush green land, shy baharatapuzha where water plays hide and seek with land, the little children waving fiercely at the train, the cycle wallah slowly moving away, the railway crossings, the houses with women washing their laundry and getting along with their day, the cute teenager who tries to wink at everyone, the jobless villagers sitting crouched up on temple premises the life going on. God’s own country, indeed it is
Train stopped at the next station, same scene as before, all the pushing and pulling starts again, the little boys running around with hot tea and coffee, the coffee tastes awful, so I always try to stick with tea, If I am lucky I can catch someone with elaichi tea which tastes so much better, but they don’s scamper around yelling elaichi tea, maybe it will take more energy and will give them a sore throat by the end of the day. Thankfully all the berths around me are taken except one, so the families are moving away to other parts looking at their tickets and looking at berth numbers, can you find 33, now why would they put 34 on other side, I can’t believe it, I see a girl around my age with a baby few months old, this is what amma was talking about “reproduction” which is the job of girls.
This time I wasn’t lucky, did not get the elaichi tea as I had hoped, and gave a wry smile and 5Rs to the little boy who was selling, who seemed happy.
The train gave a little shudder and passed gas, chooo. Now all the chai wallas, dubbah wallas started jumping out. Women wiping their tears, men massaging their chests, the college kids winking at me who are happy when I wink back and in seventh heaven when I wave. Frustrated idiots, I think. Heard amma saying in my head, now why did you need to wave at them, heh, why??
Train started again and all the hustle and bustle started to die down, everyone seemed to be settled once again. The wailing baby has started to sleep with his mouth open, looks cute, maybe they are not all that bad. Could never stand babies, whaa whaa whaa, well they say India is overpopulated, they should have an anti baby campaign instead of the regular family planning triangle.
The green of kerala was soon vanishing, the arid lands started to appear, mass landscape with a huge rock in the middle, dusty mountains, miles without the sight of a single soul, ravines and creeks that may have been filled with water once upon a time and railway crossings with no one to wait behind.
“Orders for dinner” orders for dinner
A man with khaki uniform came by with little chits for dinner.
“What do you have for dinner?”
“Regular meals, biriyani and idlis”
“I will go for idlis please”
Paid the 10Rs and got the chit and confirmed the station where the food will be delivered. The uniform went by once again yelling “orders for dinner”
“Kando, they have sent this girl without food even, so sad”
Somehow I felt it necessary to defend my parents, told them that I chose not to take the food as I like the food on the train
A look of total disbelief spread across his face, he shook his face
Oh well, he can think what he wants. Maybe he can think that I ran away from home, or maybe even juicier that I am meeting my lover in Mumbai, like in the movie Bombay. Maybe we can have a song and dance sequence outside the chatrapati shivaji terminal. This guy can be one of the extras with a smirk face.
I brought my face back to the book, the letters making the dances, story like a movie show once again.
I have to pee, I am going to hold it as long as I can, Made sure that I have the medication handy in my bag, will have to start maybe by the evening. “Krishna Guruvayurappa, shakti tharene”
I can hear the rattle of human voices , different languages, Tamil. Malayalam, kannada, Telugu,all making an aviyal together. People going up and down the aisle again, a guy selling the latest magazines coming by, filmfare, nana, Tinkle, time, India today. Bought an India today and a film fare. Always fun to see how is dating whom and predictions on when they are going to break up.
The dry dusty air is hitting the face. The old lady with a kind smile suggests that maybe I should close the window as the air will make a mess of my hair. Who the hell cares, I am after all not a beauty queen to start with.
Train slows down once again, it is around 6pm. Coimbatore station is big and there are a lot more vendors jumping in and out. Not a lot of people to get in as this is a kerala boggy. Hopefully the seat and berth next to me would be empty, but that is not what I was told. Oh well, I pray that the person who was to fill that berth would miss the train, an extra seat is a luxury these days. I see someone running into the train, with a big bag. He got in, looked around and confirmed that the seat number is indeed 45, oh shoot. But hey, isn’t he cute, now we are talking.
I acted as if I did not see him, looked away, but made sure that I comb my hair with my fingers and also wiped the soot from my face with my little hankie. Thanks amma for reminding me to take the hankie like proper girls. The cutie looked around and sat beside me, He smiled at me< hurrah. Maybe I do have a scoop for some romance before getting back at the hostel, or maybe who knows this is the guy I will elope with or even better I can tell my dad, I have found the man of my dreams, big time. Rein your mind, he has just smiled.
I acted as if I didn’t care who was sitting beside me. He himself seem to know the tricks of the trade and he also started to read a Time magazine, UUhhhmmm, has some class, at least he cares what is going on in the big wide world
My bladder is calling again, I wish there was a diaper that I could wear just like the astronauts, who cares if there is gravity in this planet; it is indeed an inconvenience to go to the toilet. But this time I have to, I get up gingerly, wipe my churidar down and say excuse me coyly. I would make my amma proud if I go this route, I am acting like a real lady for once.
It is always hard to use the toilet with one hand holding the nose tightly. Thankfully there was some watery liquid soap in the little container there. In my hurry to act like a lady I forgot to take my towel and soap. Washed my face properly, looked in the mirror and told myself that I am beautiful. Some one has to say it ,if no one else will I will. Wiped the water off on the bottom of the churidar, noone will notice it. I have special churidars to wear on train, dusty colored, dark blue color which will look fresh even if I wore it for seven days in soot.
Walked back to my seat and the Mr. Handsome looked up and smiled. Wow , he is something to talk about, Have to describe him when I get back to the hostel. All the girls will be so jealous and will swoon at my description. He even has nice teeth. He looks like aravind swamy at certain angles. Came back to my seat like a Bharatiya naari without even touching his shoes, he has nice shoes too. Started reading the book again, this guy is not making any attempt to talk, maybe he is the shy type. Come on man we have only another day and a half.
Dinner was delivered from a small station, could not read the name of the station as the lighting was bad out there. The idlis with watery sambaar and chutney, can’t have amma’s idlis for the next eight months, who knows if I can go for the next vacation, will have to finish the thesis . Mr.Handsome is not eating anything, good time to hit him
“ Aren’t you eating anything”??
Oh No I had my dinner around 5 today, that way it is easier than packing it”
UUhhhmmm, clever too
Are the idlis good??
He is taking the bait , good, this trip will be fun
“ The usual, something to eat”
He goes back to Time, I lean over and see that he is reading on the conflicts in Israel. Time to show my GK skills
“ Sad eh, what is going on in Israel”
“ Very true, it is unbelievable that a section of people will be punished time and again by the world “ we go on to discussing the Israel politics and Palestinian agenda, much better than talking of our lallu yadav. Amma, for once my interest in world politics is helping out, maybe you will get the son in law of your dreams
Soon there was the hustle of people trying to get to sleep. The oldie was looking around as if to ask for permission to open the berth out, I washed my hands and by the time I came back everyone else had already climbed in. Oldie asked me whether it was okay for me to have the berth facing Mr.Handsome. Of course, I can look into his handsome brown eyes and slowly fade to sleep.
Said good night to handsome eyes and soon it was next morning. The clamoring of the chai wallas woke me up. Mr. Handsome was already up on the other side , slowly climbed down, I should have woken up earlier to get a reasonably clean toilet. Searched for the brush and paste and grabbed the soap and ran to the toilet. The burly bearded guy gave me a look, the look that we talk about in the hostel. Gave the return look back. He turned away. After 3 people it was finally my turn, OOOOOHHHH, They have to invent good diapers.
When I came back Mr. Handsome was buying coffee from the teenager,
“ You want a coffee “ he had already bought one for me.
I hate coffee, but will I tell him that, Ooh No
“Thank you” again like a good girl. Amma I am finally getting it. No sarcasm, no Vikata saraswati as amma says
While sipping coffee the vision outside is flying behind, fast . Trees like a line, bent, everything looks two dimensional
I haven’t got anywhere with Mr.Handsome. Amma, if I don’t act fast the concept of son in law will remain a dream.
: are you going to Mumbai too”
“No Pune , I am a major with the army , am going to Khadakvasla, ’
I can see Kitty parties and republic day ceremony in my dreams. Maybe I will be the widow receiving param vir charka for his contribution to war. Chi.., I am not even connecting and am dreaming of his death
“Where are you off to”
“Back to my hostel in Mumbai, doing masters “
That is nice, Huh that is nice, what is that supposed to be. Maybe amma is right , men like brainless bimbos. Well I will say no to paramvir chakra and will announce at the venue that I denounce everyone who refuses to accept women who like to keep their brains in tact
Mr.Handsome gets up and goes over. I look out. Little train stations, people crossing bridges, farmers working in the fields, sunflower fields, laundry on top of the houses being pulled by the wind, life goes on as usual. I see Mr.H sitting beside the door through the window, maybe I can go over and do a Titanic like stint out there, but hey this guy definitely is not flirting. What a bore.
The salad wallah came along. I love salads on train with the kala jeera and namak and the cucumbers. Ordered a plate, the oldie does the tsk tsk with his tongue and darts me a sympathetic look. O h well he can think that I am an orphan. The salad wallah mixes the salad with his dirty hands and passes the plate on to me, another 8rs. He gave a spoon with the salad, who eats salad with a spoon, maybe he ran out of forks as usual
Mr.H returns to his seat
“ Did you want salad”
He nodded to say no. Oh come on honey, paramvir charka in waiting.
I ate the salad, maybe I can chuck lunch today and loose some weight. Amma has fed me real well this vacation, having a couple of marriages to attend did not help either. The wedding feasts are so good, I did not give ear to amma’s complaining to everyone around that I am refusing to get married ,and the loud suggestions from everyone that the bride is much younger than me. So what.
Afternoon was spent talking about khadakvasla with Mr.H. He talked about the big campus, the security outside, the beautiful landscaping, the army school inside etc. He did not talk about his family, so maybe he is alone. Hurrah
Decided to read another couple of chapters of the book. Mr.H was now interested in talking, we talked about books, he likes Toni Morrison, and he liked “Beloved”. Man am I In for a ride, I also talked about “ beloved” and “ bluest Eye”, never mentioned the fact that could not understand anything in Beloved. We both ordered biriyani for dinner, see we have a lot of similarities, we both like biriyani. Paramvircharka here I come. Maybe I don’t’ need to get it posthumously.
After biriyani, brushed my teeth and hit the berth. This time I could look at him properly, nice mustache, army cropped hair, long legs, long fingers, amma ,he is indeed the son in law that you always wanted. Woke up to the shudder of the train next morning. Train was stopped, It was only 3am. Mr.H was already up and ready. He smiled at me and said there was some minor delay and that the train will reach Pune in another couple of hours. Wow , I better act fast, told him that I might be coming to pune for some project work. He quickly wrote out an address on a sheet of paper and gave it to me. No interest to get my information. Look how things have changed, everything has to be done by girls these days. Well I am a feminist, right.
Gave him the hostel address and phone number and suggested that he visit me when he comes over to Mumbai. He says yes and invites me over to khadakvasla as well, he tells me in a couple of months his wife will be joining him again with the baby
What is that I am hearing, a shokaganam, sitar or sarongi making that nga nga nga voice, the last time I heard it was when Rajiv Gandhi was killed. My paramvirchakra vanishes into thin air, my announcement for republic day cannot be done, and my amma has lost her son in law once again. Why didn’t he say so right upfront.
He goes on to tell me that he had a baby about a month ago and that is why he had gone to Coimbatore this time. He goes on to tell me about his baby girl’s name and horoscope but who is interested, I look out, and train has started to move again
In two hours, we reach pune station, Mr.Idiot invites me once again to Khadakvasla and gets off the train. I hear sarongi in the background once again nga nga nga…….
I reached Mumbai around 12noon, an hour late, that is nothing. I am in no hurry, but this time I have a story to tell the girls, about a rich , handsome, brave army officer who will one day come over to the hostel to take me in his arms.
______________________________________________________________________
As usual it was quite crowded when the Jayanti Janata came to the station. Lots of people trying to get in and lots to get out. All of them with huge packets, and boxes, some filled with coconuts, rice, bananas , mattress pushing and pulling to get in and then to find the reserved seating area. Wailing babies are the most irritating, some of them hold on to their little cookies and cry with their eyes all red and nose running. Once they get to their seating area there is a bustle again to push the luggage under the seat or to dump them on the top berth, this also creates a racket if there happens to be someone sleeping up, and the bag is thrown on top of them. Quite a hilarious scene to see a much irritated oldie getting up to scream and yell pushing away the heavy bag on his head. Right before the train starts moving again some older women on the platform wipes the tears away and lovingly tells their family inside to take care and write once they reach their destination. They hold each others hands through the train window pushing the poor soul sitting on the side of the window and then the train starts moving again “ koooooooo chu chu chu”.
Then there are the little chai wallas jumping off the moving train like rats trying to get out of a house on fire, the door is closed again by someone who came out of the stinky toilet and the train is well set on the trip to Bombay.
Traveling by second class on bharatiya railway has always been my favorite way to travel. It is like watching a movie for three whole days, drenched in sweat and soot and stinky by the second day. But the smell is often flown away by the speeding train and the stink is no longer a stink when it is a mass of people stinking in unison. I had learned to and even started to research on the different varieties of human small, oldie smell, young cute smell, baby smell, women smell, regular men smell and then there is the beggar smell which indeed is quite distinctive. The toilet smell in the train is the most indescribable of all, the smell of filth and poop and pee all mixed together. UUUUHHHH, that is the one thing I hated, using the stinky toilet, can’t avoid it for three days. I always planned ahead though, medication for diarrhea and UTI was always with me, and I would need it once I reach Bombay
“ mol engotta”
Ouch, this oldie is trying to make friends with me, might as well act rude to keep him at an arms length, or else he will ruin my movie , for three whole days
“Mumbai”
“Ottekko”
then he turned to his plump wife and said, “girls these days, traveling alone for 3 days to Bombay, well we should blame these parents, no concern for safety.
Then he turned back at me and said
“Don’t worry we will help you out”
Oh no, Oh no, I don’t’ need any help, just leave me alone
I pulled the muscles on my face to make a smile; it does get hard at times. Pulled out a book from my stash in the bag while the oldie and family were busy rearranging their luggage under the seat so that everything could be squeezed in. Heard a crack inside one of the bags while they were pushing and he complained that probably it was the kuzhambu bottle, oh no, I don’t’ want sticky liquid all over my new ghagra, Jumped up and pulled out the bag which was beside the bags he was pushing and pulling and kept it safely under my own seat where there was some space.
The train was zooming past, The lush green land, shy baharatapuzha where water plays hide and seek with land, the little children waving fiercely at the train, the cycle wallah slowly moving away, the railway crossings, the houses with women washing their laundry and getting along with their day, the cute teenager who tries to wink at everyone, the jobless villagers sitting crouched up on temple premises the life going on. God’s own country, indeed it is
Train stopped at the next station, same scene as before, all the pushing and pulling starts again, the little boys running around with hot tea and coffee, the coffee tastes awful, so I always try to stick with tea, If I am lucky I can catch someone with elaichi tea which tastes so much better, but they don’s scamper around yelling elaichi tea, maybe it will take more energy and will give them a sore throat by the end of the day. Thankfully all the berths around me are taken except one, so the families are moving away to other parts looking at their tickets and looking at berth numbers, can you find 33, now why would they put 34 on other side, I can’t believe it, I see a girl around my age with a baby few months old, this is what amma was talking about “reproduction” which is the job of girls.
This time I wasn’t lucky, did not get the elaichi tea as I had hoped, and gave a wry smile and 5Rs to the little boy who was selling, who seemed happy.
The train gave a little shudder and passed gas, chooo. Now all the chai wallas, dubbah wallas started jumping out. Women wiping their tears, men massaging their chests, the college kids winking at me who are happy when I wink back and in seventh heaven when I wave. Frustrated idiots, I think. Heard amma saying in my head, now why did you need to wave at them, heh, why??
Train started again and all the hustle and bustle started to die down, everyone seemed to be settled once again. The wailing baby has started to sleep with his mouth open, looks cute, maybe they are not all that bad. Could never stand babies, whaa whaa whaa, well they say India is overpopulated, they should have an anti baby campaign instead of the regular family planning triangle.
The green of kerala was soon vanishing, the arid lands started to appear, mass landscape with a huge rock in the middle, dusty mountains, miles without the sight of a single soul, ravines and creeks that may have been filled with water once upon a time and railway crossings with no one to wait behind.
“Orders for dinner” orders for dinner
A man with khaki uniform came by with little chits for dinner.
“What do you have for dinner?”
“Regular meals, biriyani and idlis”
“I will go for idlis please”
Paid the 10Rs and got the chit and confirmed the station where the food will be delivered. The uniform went by once again yelling “orders for dinner”
“Kando, they have sent this girl without food even, so sad”
Somehow I felt it necessary to defend my parents, told them that I chose not to take the food as I like the food on the train
A look of total disbelief spread across his face, he shook his face
Oh well, he can think what he wants. Maybe he can think that I ran away from home, or maybe even juicier that I am meeting my lover in Mumbai, like in the movie Bombay. Maybe we can have a song and dance sequence outside the chatrapati shivaji terminal. This guy can be one of the extras with a smirk face.
I brought my face back to the book, the letters making the dances, story like a movie show once again.
I have to pee, I am going to hold it as long as I can, Made sure that I have the medication handy in my bag, will have to start maybe by the evening. “Krishna Guruvayurappa, shakti tharene”
I can hear the rattle of human voices , different languages, Tamil. Malayalam, kannada, Telugu,all making an aviyal together. People going up and down the aisle again, a guy selling the latest magazines coming by, filmfare, nana, Tinkle, time, India today. Bought an India today and a film fare. Always fun to see how is dating whom and predictions on when they are going to break up.
The dry dusty air is hitting the face. The old lady with a kind smile suggests that maybe I should close the window as the air will make a mess of my hair. Who the hell cares, I am after all not a beauty queen to start with.
Train slows down once again, it is around 6pm. Coimbatore station is big and there are a lot more vendors jumping in and out. Not a lot of people to get in as this is a kerala boggy. Hopefully the seat and berth next to me would be empty, but that is not what I was told. Oh well, I pray that the person who was to fill that berth would miss the train, an extra seat is a luxury these days. I see someone running into the train, with a big bag. He got in, looked around and confirmed that the seat number is indeed 45, oh shoot. But hey, isn’t he cute, now we are talking.
I acted as if I did not see him, looked away, but made sure that I comb my hair with my fingers and also wiped the soot from my face with my little hankie. Thanks amma for reminding me to take the hankie like proper girls. The cutie looked around and sat beside me, He smiled at me< hurrah. Maybe I do have a scoop for some romance before getting back at the hostel, or maybe who knows this is the guy I will elope with or even better I can tell my dad, I have found the man of my dreams, big time. Rein your mind, he has just smiled.
I acted as if I didn’t care who was sitting beside me. He himself seem to know the tricks of the trade and he also started to read a Time magazine, UUhhhmmm, has some class, at least he cares what is going on in the big wide world
My bladder is calling again, I wish there was a diaper that I could wear just like the astronauts, who cares if there is gravity in this planet; it is indeed an inconvenience to go to the toilet. But this time I have to, I get up gingerly, wipe my churidar down and say excuse me coyly. I would make my amma proud if I go this route, I am acting like a real lady for once.
It is always hard to use the toilet with one hand holding the nose tightly. Thankfully there was some watery liquid soap in the little container there. In my hurry to act like a lady I forgot to take my towel and soap. Washed my face properly, looked in the mirror and told myself that I am beautiful. Some one has to say it ,if no one else will I will. Wiped the water off on the bottom of the churidar, noone will notice it. I have special churidars to wear on train, dusty colored, dark blue color which will look fresh even if I wore it for seven days in soot.
Walked back to my seat and the Mr. Handsome looked up and smiled. Wow , he is something to talk about, Have to describe him when I get back to the hostel. All the girls will be so jealous and will swoon at my description. He even has nice teeth. He looks like aravind swamy at certain angles. Came back to my seat like a Bharatiya naari without even touching his shoes, he has nice shoes too. Started reading the book again, this guy is not making any attempt to talk, maybe he is the shy type. Come on man we have only another day and a half.
Dinner was delivered from a small station, could not read the name of the station as the lighting was bad out there. The idlis with watery sambaar and chutney, can’t have amma’s idlis for the next eight months, who knows if I can go for the next vacation, will have to finish the thesis . Mr.Handsome is not eating anything, good time to hit him
“ Aren’t you eating anything”??
Oh No I had my dinner around 5 today, that way it is easier than packing it”
UUhhhmmm, clever too
Are the idlis good??
He is taking the bait , good, this trip will be fun
“ The usual, something to eat”
He goes back to Time, I lean over and see that he is reading on the conflicts in Israel. Time to show my GK skills
“ Sad eh, what is going on in Israel”
“ Very true, it is unbelievable that a section of people will be punished time and again by the world “ we go on to discussing the Israel politics and Palestinian agenda, much better than talking of our lallu yadav. Amma, for once my interest in world politics is helping out, maybe you will get the son in law of your dreams
Soon there was the hustle of people trying to get to sleep. The oldie was looking around as if to ask for permission to open the berth out, I washed my hands and by the time I came back everyone else had already climbed in. Oldie asked me whether it was okay for me to have the berth facing Mr.Handsome. Of course, I can look into his handsome brown eyes and slowly fade to sleep.
Said good night to handsome eyes and soon it was next morning. The clamoring of the chai wallas woke me up. Mr. Handsome was already up on the other side , slowly climbed down, I should have woken up earlier to get a reasonably clean toilet. Searched for the brush and paste and grabbed the soap and ran to the toilet. The burly bearded guy gave me a look, the look that we talk about in the hostel. Gave the return look back. He turned away. After 3 people it was finally my turn, OOOOOHHHH, They have to invent good diapers.
When I came back Mr. Handsome was buying coffee from the teenager,
“ You want a coffee “ he had already bought one for me.
I hate coffee, but will I tell him that, Ooh No
“Thank you” again like a good girl. Amma I am finally getting it. No sarcasm, no Vikata saraswati as amma says
While sipping coffee the vision outside is flying behind, fast . Trees like a line, bent, everything looks two dimensional
I haven’t got anywhere with Mr.Handsome. Amma, if I don’t act fast the concept of son in law will remain a dream.
: are you going to Mumbai too”
“No Pune , I am a major with the army , am going to Khadakvasla, ’
I can see Kitty parties and republic day ceremony in my dreams. Maybe I will be the widow receiving param vir charka for his contribution to war. Chi.., I am not even connecting and am dreaming of his death
“Where are you off to”
“Back to my hostel in Mumbai, doing masters “
That is nice, Huh that is nice, what is that supposed to be. Maybe amma is right , men like brainless bimbos. Well I will say no to paramvir chakra and will announce at the venue that I denounce everyone who refuses to accept women who like to keep their brains in tact
Mr.Handsome gets up and goes over. I look out. Little train stations, people crossing bridges, farmers working in the fields, sunflower fields, laundry on top of the houses being pulled by the wind, life goes on as usual. I see Mr.H sitting beside the door through the window, maybe I can go over and do a Titanic like stint out there, but hey this guy definitely is not flirting. What a bore.
The salad wallah came along. I love salads on train with the kala jeera and namak and the cucumbers. Ordered a plate, the oldie does the tsk tsk with his tongue and darts me a sympathetic look. O h well he can think that I am an orphan. The salad wallah mixes the salad with his dirty hands and passes the plate on to me, another 8rs. He gave a spoon with the salad, who eats salad with a spoon, maybe he ran out of forks as usual
Mr.H returns to his seat
“ Did you want salad”
He nodded to say no. Oh come on honey, paramvir charka in waiting.
I ate the salad, maybe I can chuck lunch today and loose some weight. Amma has fed me real well this vacation, having a couple of marriages to attend did not help either. The wedding feasts are so good, I did not give ear to amma’s complaining to everyone around that I am refusing to get married ,and the loud suggestions from everyone that the bride is much younger than me. So what.
Afternoon was spent talking about khadakvasla with Mr.H. He talked about the big campus, the security outside, the beautiful landscaping, the army school inside etc. He did not talk about his family, so maybe he is alone. Hurrah
Decided to read another couple of chapters of the book. Mr.H was now interested in talking, we talked about books, he likes Toni Morrison, and he liked “Beloved”. Man am I In for a ride, I also talked about “ beloved” and “ bluest Eye”, never mentioned the fact that could not understand anything in Beloved. We both ordered biriyani for dinner, see we have a lot of similarities, we both like biriyani. Paramvircharka here I come. Maybe I don’t’ need to get it posthumously.
After biriyani, brushed my teeth and hit the berth. This time I could look at him properly, nice mustache, army cropped hair, long legs, long fingers, amma ,he is indeed the son in law that you always wanted. Woke up to the shudder of the train next morning. Train was stopped, It was only 3am. Mr.H was already up and ready. He smiled at me and said there was some minor delay and that the train will reach Pune in another couple of hours. Wow , I better act fast, told him that I might be coming to pune for some project work. He quickly wrote out an address on a sheet of paper and gave it to me. No interest to get my information. Look how things have changed, everything has to be done by girls these days. Well I am a feminist, right.
Gave him the hostel address and phone number and suggested that he visit me when he comes over to Mumbai. He says yes and invites me over to khadakvasla as well, he tells me in a couple of months his wife will be joining him again with the baby
What is that I am hearing, a shokaganam, sitar or sarongi making that nga nga nga voice, the last time I heard it was when Rajiv Gandhi was killed. My paramvirchakra vanishes into thin air, my announcement for republic day cannot be done, and my amma has lost her son in law once again. Why didn’t he say so right upfront.
He goes on to tell me that he had a baby about a month ago and that is why he had gone to Coimbatore this time. He goes on to tell me about his baby girl’s name and horoscope but who is interested, I look out, and train has started to move again
In two hours, we reach pune station, Mr.Idiot invites me once again to Khadakvasla and gets off the train. I hear sarongi in the background once again nga nga nga…….
I reached Mumbai around 12noon, an hour late, that is nothing. I am in no hurry, but this time I have a story to tell the girls, about a rich , handsome, brave army officer who will one day come over to the hostel to take me in his arms.
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A good Bye
The drive back from the doctors place was rather smooth compared to the early morning traffic. Jen had Don’t use contractions. Use the full word – doctor’s left the house around 7am to be at the doctor’s place by 8.30am, she had received the call from the doctor’s office last night to come in urgently for a discussion on the recent tests that she had. She was sure that it was galls stones or something to that effect, a minor surgery and then she will be okay. Planning the last minute details before taking time off from work was something she was thinking of when she was driving in but now her mind was BLANK, could not think of anything at all. She stopped at the mall , about a mile from her house . Beautiful lilac flowers were all around the shopping mall where the furniture store and the movie theatre stood. She had always admired those flowers. They planted those plants every year , or they were indeed perennials like her colleague had alwaysargued.
How do I tell them that I have very little time, she thought. Maybe the doctor was wrong, how can she be sure?She is not god. Whatever will be will be.She took a deep breath and lay down on the seat.Her hands clutched her stomach warmly just like she used to do when Allison was growing in there. How can it now house a cancerous tumor which has already spread its angry fingers all over her body? A cough jumped out of her throat which shook her whole body, it must just be a cold and cough. Maybe the results are wrong, or her file was switched with someone else’s like she had seen in Oprah’s show. Why did the doctor say that she cannot do anything, there must be something they can do.
The parking lot was getting busy, how can these people spend all their time in their mall? don’t these people work? I better call the office and tell them that I am going to be late.
She dialed her work number and spoke to her friend and boss, Kelly. She sounded bubbly on the phone.“ “Is everything okay Jen, what did the doctor say?”
“ Oh, nothing much, they may want me to go through more tests.”
“ So they couldn’t confirm anything, it must be something you ate, Believe me, I told you to stay away from that Lebanese place.”
It must be that .Listen Kel, I will be late today.
“It is okay, or if you want take the day off. You haven’t taken a day off in ages, maybe you may want to go get a “mani-pedi”
“Okay, let me do that, will see ya tomorrow okay”.
“Okay, say Hi to Allison.”
Her red Mazda continued to be parked at the parking lot. People walked by , some staring in, some with heavy bags, some dragging big boxes around. A mother was having a tough time with her toddler who probably started fighting for something he wanted, Allison did a lot of that too. Lilac flowers wrestled in the wind, May be I should ask to have these flowers for the funeral, but who would plan the funeral, Maybe I should connect with Tom again? Maybe he will be the parent that he never was, until now. Allison will need help, she is only 14 for God’s sake. How will she manage?
When Jen reached home the unwashed dishes and messy rooms did not bother her. She went to Allison’s room and sat down, pictures of movie stars and boy bands were stuck all over. A smile escaped Jen’s lips when she saw the picture of Ken Oreilly in the Nancy Drew book which was kept upside down on the 45th page. Allison had had a crush on Ken since she was in second grade; she never grew out of it. That picture was probably taken at the school talent show.
Oh Allison, I may not be around to see you marry. I won’t be there to pick up your bridal dress. Who will you take with you to pick the dress? You always wanted second opinions on everything. I won’t be around to cheer you when you board the space shuttle to discover other planets. I had promised to talk to you from earth when you are up there.
Maybe I should get a second opinion . But the specialist was supposed to be the best in her field and she seemed sure about the diagnosis. She must have told many people before her that they had less than three months to live, but it did feel like her feelings were genuine when she said the big “sorry” when Jen walked into her room. The doctor had told her that she can always connect her with another specialist for a second opinion. Should she??
Jen walked around and opened the big window. The leaves on the Oak tree outside was swaying lightly in the wind. She sat on Allison’s bed, the big Winnie the Pooh blanket was folded nicely over the pillow with Hannah Montana covers. Jen had bought the Pooh blanket at Walmart when she was seven months pregnant with Allison, it was Allison’s comfort blanket. Jen picked the blanket and hugged it tightly.
Sorry for everything, sorry for the things that I did not do, sorry for the times that I yelled at little Allison, sorry for the time that I did not pick her up because I was too busy, for not trying harder with Tom, for not making it to the recitals and assemblies at school. Well sorry does not cut it, does it. I don’t have the time,
“Mom, Mom, how did your appointment go this morning?”
Jen was not aware that she had fallen asleep on Allison’s bed.
Her confused eyes took time to focus, she looked at her young daughter with sandy brown hair and purple eye glasses. She was wearing a tight white blouse with black capris. My little girl.
Jen hugged Allison tight and she tried to escape from her bear hug.
Allison giggled and asked, “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Should there be something wrong for me to hug you? I love you Allison.”
Her “ I love you” was not the usual quick I love you which was always said as an after thought, it was not said when they were looking away from each other. Jen looked into Allison’s big brown eyes and admired her long eye lashes. She will be a beauty when she comes out of this age of pimples and roller coaster hormone rides. My little girl, be strong.
“ What are we having for dinner today , Mom?”
“Let us go out to eat today.”
“Oh, no I have lots of home work, Have to work on a science project.”
“Well we can make it back in time. Please let’s go.”
“Okay, let me have a shower and I will be down soon.”
Jen’s coughing spell reminded her, “Oh Mom, you never told me what the doctor told you.”
“We will talk at the restaurant”
Allison had an intrigued look on her face, but she did not linger on and walked to the bathroom.
Jen had never lied to her daughter,not even when she had asked how babies are made when Allison was seven. Jen was sure that all the scientific details of making babies had turned Allison off, for she had never asked that question ever again.
She was always a precocious little girl and could pick up on lies very easily
What do I tell her, How will I tell her. Will she be okay??
Jen took her time to shower. She looked at her naked body and her stomach. She imagined the ugly tumor eating her away. Maybe it is laughing. How long had it been there? How long has it been that her periods have been irregular. How long has she been feeling weak? Can’t remember. The life of a single mom is not easy. She had not really dated since Tom left over eight years ago. Why, the European Leonard was nice. I could have given him a chance. But she thought Allison did not like anyone else in her dad’s place.
“Come on mom. Let’s go. I have to come back and do my project.”
Allison wanted to drive her Mazda out of the driveway and today Jen said no, She needs to wait another couple of years before she can get her licence but she had been allowing Allison to back the car slowly out of the driveway. Her typical teenage pout came out when Jen said and emphatic “NO!”
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I feel like eating Mexican today. Let’s go to that place near the theatre.”
Jen agreed readily as she didn’t really care where she went, she wasn’t hungry to start with.
The restaurant was thankfully not crowded today, well it is a week day
She went to the corner table with Allison. She was not feeling hungry at all and hence opted for a soup. Allison ordered a big plate of fajitas and salad and she seemed to be enjoying her meal. Jen wanted her to finish her meal before telling her. She has to tell her. Allison is too smart to not know. I will be insulting her intelligence if I don’t. But how will I?
“Mom you are not eating at all. You have been picking on your meals all the time. But hey, you have been losing weight. Good for you.”
The peas in her soup seemed to be making mocking faces. The carrots danced around supporting the peas and prodding on the celery. She pushed the soup bowl to the side.
Jen took her daughter’s hand and played with her elastic bracelet for a little bit.
“ Allison, The doctor was not too happy with the tests. She thinks that I am dying”
Jen felt all shaky when she saw Allison staring at her with tears welling up. She kept the fork down from her other hand and asked, “What do you mean?”
“ I have cancer and it has already spread all over and I was told that there is nothing they can do.”
“But you have been doing so well , except for the cough. That’s not true, that’s just not true.” Allison’s moaned
“Allison, I am so, so sorry.”
Big tears rolled out of her eyes.
Jen kept mumbling “I am so sorry baby”.
Allison’s fajita waited for a while and then the chirpy waitress took it away. They both said no to desserts and looked out through the window. The sun was setting in the horizon. The day was ending once again. The sun will probably rise again tomorrow, which is another ordinary miracle as the song says.
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The drive back from the doctors place was rather smooth compared to the early morning traffic. Jen had Don’t use contractions. Use the full word – doctor’s left the house around 7am to be at the doctor’s place by 8.30am, she had received the call from the doctor’s office last night to come in urgently for a discussion on the recent tests that she had. She was sure that it was galls stones or something to that effect, a minor surgery and then she will be okay. Planning the last minute details before taking time off from work was something she was thinking of when she was driving in but now her mind was BLANK, could not think of anything at all. She stopped at the mall , about a mile from her house . Beautiful lilac flowers were all around the shopping mall where the furniture store and the movie theatre stood. She had always admired those flowers. They planted those plants every year , or they were indeed perennials like her colleague had alwaysargued.
How do I tell them that I have very little time, she thought. Maybe the doctor was wrong, how can she be sure?She is not god. Whatever will be will be.She took a deep breath and lay down on the seat.Her hands clutched her stomach warmly just like she used to do when Allison was growing in there. How can it now house a cancerous tumor which has already spread its angry fingers all over her body? A cough jumped out of her throat which shook her whole body, it must just be a cold and cough. Maybe the results are wrong, or her file was switched with someone else’s like she had seen in Oprah’s show. Why did the doctor say that she cannot do anything, there must be something they can do.
The parking lot was getting busy, how can these people spend all their time in their mall? don’t these people work? I better call the office and tell them that I am going to be late.
She dialed her work number and spoke to her friend and boss, Kelly. She sounded bubbly on the phone.“ “Is everything okay Jen, what did the doctor say?”
“ Oh, nothing much, they may want me to go through more tests.”
“ So they couldn’t confirm anything, it must be something you ate, Believe me, I told you to stay away from that Lebanese place.”
It must be that .Listen Kel, I will be late today.
“It is okay, or if you want take the day off. You haven’t taken a day off in ages, maybe you may want to go get a “mani-pedi”
“Okay, let me do that, will see ya tomorrow okay”.
“Okay, say Hi to Allison.”
Her red Mazda continued to be parked at the parking lot. People walked by , some staring in, some with heavy bags, some dragging big boxes around. A mother was having a tough time with her toddler who probably started fighting for something he wanted, Allison did a lot of that too. Lilac flowers wrestled in the wind, May be I should ask to have these flowers for the funeral, but who would plan the funeral, Maybe I should connect with Tom again? Maybe he will be the parent that he never was, until now. Allison will need help, she is only 14 for God’s sake. How will she manage?
When Jen reached home the unwashed dishes and messy rooms did not bother her. She went to Allison’s room and sat down, pictures of movie stars and boy bands were stuck all over. A smile escaped Jen’s lips when she saw the picture of Ken Oreilly in the Nancy Drew book which was kept upside down on the 45th page. Allison had had a crush on Ken since she was in second grade; she never grew out of it. That picture was probably taken at the school talent show.
Oh Allison, I may not be around to see you marry. I won’t be there to pick up your bridal dress. Who will you take with you to pick the dress? You always wanted second opinions on everything. I won’t be around to cheer you when you board the space shuttle to discover other planets. I had promised to talk to you from earth when you are up there.
Maybe I should get a second opinion . But the specialist was supposed to be the best in her field and she seemed sure about the diagnosis. She must have told many people before her that they had less than three months to live, but it did feel like her feelings were genuine when she said the big “sorry” when Jen walked into her room. The doctor had told her that she can always connect her with another specialist for a second opinion. Should she??
Jen walked around and opened the big window. The leaves on the Oak tree outside was swaying lightly in the wind. She sat on Allison’s bed, the big Winnie the Pooh blanket was folded nicely over the pillow with Hannah Montana covers. Jen had bought the Pooh blanket at Walmart when she was seven months pregnant with Allison, it was Allison’s comfort blanket. Jen picked the blanket and hugged it tightly.
Sorry for everything, sorry for the things that I did not do, sorry for the times that I yelled at little Allison, sorry for the time that I did not pick her up because I was too busy, for not trying harder with Tom, for not making it to the recitals and assemblies at school. Well sorry does not cut it, does it. I don’t have the time,
“Mom, Mom, how did your appointment go this morning?”
Jen was not aware that she had fallen asleep on Allison’s bed.
Her confused eyes took time to focus, she looked at her young daughter with sandy brown hair and purple eye glasses. She was wearing a tight white blouse with black capris. My little girl.
Jen hugged Allison tight and she tried to escape from her bear hug.
Allison giggled and asked, “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Should there be something wrong for me to hug you? I love you Allison.”
Her “ I love you” was not the usual quick I love you which was always said as an after thought, it was not said when they were looking away from each other. Jen looked into Allison’s big brown eyes and admired her long eye lashes. She will be a beauty when she comes out of this age of pimples and roller coaster hormone rides. My little girl, be strong.
“ What are we having for dinner today , Mom?”
“Let us go out to eat today.”
“Oh, no I have lots of home work, Have to work on a science project.”
“Well we can make it back in time. Please let’s go.”
“Okay, let me have a shower and I will be down soon.”
Jen’s coughing spell reminded her, “Oh Mom, you never told me what the doctor told you.”
“We will talk at the restaurant”
Allison had an intrigued look on her face, but she did not linger on and walked to the bathroom.
Jen had never lied to her daughter,not even when she had asked how babies are made when Allison was seven. Jen was sure that all the scientific details of making babies had turned Allison off, for she had never asked that question ever again.
She was always a precocious little girl and could pick up on lies very easily
What do I tell her, How will I tell her. Will she be okay??
Jen took her time to shower. She looked at her naked body and her stomach. She imagined the ugly tumor eating her away. Maybe it is laughing. How long had it been there? How long has it been that her periods have been irregular. How long has she been feeling weak? Can’t remember. The life of a single mom is not easy. She had not really dated since Tom left over eight years ago. Why, the European Leonard was nice. I could have given him a chance. But she thought Allison did not like anyone else in her dad’s place.
“Come on mom. Let’s go. I have to come back and do my project.”
Allison wanted to drive her Mazda out of the driveway and today Jen said no, She needs to wait another couple of years before she can get her licence but she had been allowing Allison to back the car slowly out of the driveway. Her typical teenage pout came out when Jen said and emphatic “NO!”
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I feel like eating Mexican today. Let’s go to that place near the theatre.”
Jen agreed readily as she didn’t really care where she went, she wasn’t hungry to start with.
The restaurant was thankfully not crowded today, well it is a week day
She went to the corner table with Allison. She was not feeling hungry at all and hence opted for a soup. Allison ordered a big plate of fajitas and salad and she seemed to be enjoying her meal. Jen wanted her to finish her meal before telling her. She has to tell her. Allison is too smart to not know. I will be insulting her intelligence if I don’t. But how will I?
“Mom you are not eating at all. You have been picking on your meals all the time. But hey, you have been losing weight. Good for you.”
The peas in her soup seemed to be making mocking faces. The carrots danced around supporting the peas and prodding on the celery. She pushed the soup bowl to the side.
Jen took her daughter’s hand and played with her elastic bracelet for a little bit.
“ Allison, The doctor was not too happy with the tests. She thinks that I am dying”
Jen felt all shaky when she saw Allison staring at her with tears welling up. She kept the fork down from her other hand and asked, “What do you mean?”
“ I have cancer and it has already spread all over and I was told that there is nothing they can do.”
“But you have been doing so well , except for the cough. That’s not true, that’s just not true.” Allison’s moaned
“Allison, I am so, so sorry.”
Big tears rolled out of her eyes.
Jen kept mumbling “I am so sorry baby”.
Allison’s fajita waited for a while and then the chirpy waitress took it away. They both said no to desserts and looked out through the window. The sun was setting in the horizon. The day was ending once again. The sun will probably rise again tomorrow, which is another ordinary miracle as the song says.
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