Mira

Mira, spread her days shopping on the floor of her dingy kitchen after coming back from the local ‘bajar’. A few potatoes, radishes, onions and chillies rolled out from her red and green nylon shopping bag as she carefully took out two duck eggs from her bag and kept them aside. Duck eggs, in a spicy curry was a delicacy that Arun could die for, and this was something Mira rarely got the liberty to buy. It gave her immense gratification to see the glint in Arun’s eyes when she served him this dish. She then rummaged through the cane basket by her stove and found a shrivelled quarter of a pumpkin and a bit of ginger. She needed to hurriedly rustle up something for Arun’s breakfast. After filling up the aluminium kettle with two cups of water for tea and placing it on her stove, she started upon nimbly dicing the pumpkin and the potatoes for a ‘sabji on her ‘boti’ a metal blade on a stand, which is placed on the floor to slice up vegetables and cut fishes. A hot piping breakfast of chapati’ and a vegetable dish was all that Arun got, to fill up his stomach with for the entire day.

Arun was rubbing dry his wet hair with a towel as he peeked into the kitchen and called out, ‘ma, I am almost ready, my anatomy classes start at 9 sharp and Sumita Madam is very punctual’. Mira replied, I am ready as soon as you are, ‘babu’. This was what, Mira, lovingly called Arun. Mira laid out a steel thali of pumpkin sabji, four chapatis and a cup of sweet tea with some ginger added to it, on the floor. Then she laid out an embroidered square piece of jute rug for Arun to sit down on. While Arun had his breakfast and tea, Mira turned off her stove and squatted down in front of Arun, with her cup of tea. This was a few minutes of daily chitchat with her son, which made Mira contended and happy. “Ma, I am saving up a little every month from my stipend, to buy, ‘Grey’s Anatomy’, but let us go to Charu Market, next Sunday, to buy a bedsheet and a pair of slippers for you, Ma. The sheet on your ‘chouki’ is too tattered now and safety pin on your chappals is hurting your toes.” “We will see about that later, babu,” Mira intervened, “but this month, we need to get a pair of trousers for you, the ends of the ones you wear are in shreds.”

After Arun leaves to catch the tram, to Esplanade, Mira, takes a few bites from Arun’s leftovers, hastily gets ready in a starched and ironed ‘tant’ cotton sari, pins her ‘anchal’ in neat pleats with practiced hand, closes the only window of her small one-room rented place, locks the door and then proceeds to her NGO run school, ‘Mukta’, at Rashbehari Avenue, where she teaches destitute children. As Mira, sat down on the hand-pulled rickshaw, which she rented from near her home, she relaxed and allowed her thoughts to drift for the first time since she had woken up in the morning. There was a faint smile of contentment on her lips as she thought about the one and a half kattah of plot that she had bought recently, near Thakupukur Bajar, on the south-western fringes of Kolkata with her entire life savings of the past eighteen years. She thought to herself that if she had to go back and do that again with the same grit of fighting through each day just for some milk for Arun, and a meal of rice and ‘dal’ for herself, she would surely fail now. She wondered in amazement, at what drove a simple, unassuming, quiet young girl, just out of her teens to fight that battle, when she was abandoned by Arun’s father, just after two years of marriage, on the pretext, that she was a non-brahmin and dark complexioned with a slight squint in one eye, and that since his family was not approving of her, even after he had tried to persuade them to do so for two years, he thought it wise, not to go against the wishes of his family. Arun at that time was a toddler and he was holding on to his father’s pajama, and looking up toward him with a smile while making gurgling happy sounds.

Mira’s thread of thoughts were torn as the ‘rickshawalla’, brought the rickshaw to a standstill, near her school. Mira had come to school early today as she wanted to meet Ms. Mukherjee, the wife of the local councillor, who headed ‘Mukta’. Ms. Mukherjee was quite influential and had always stood by Mira and she had promised to arrange a house building loan for her from the nearest branch of the State Bank of India.

In a few months time, Saturday afternoons proved to be a much-awaited pleasure outing for the mother-son duo as they held the newly- bought bricks, sifted through the cement and lovingly ran their hands over the wooden framework, as they saw their dream taking shape. They both ran over the uneven brick-laden floor, and planned where, and on which side of the rooms to keep, what. They rubbed their hands in glee, when they saw sprouts from brinjal, tomato and cauliflower plants, which they had already planted behind their house. They immersed themselves in serious discussion on their way back home in an autorickshaw, on what colour cemented floor Arun’s bedroom should have, and which side of the kitchen should hold the concrete slab, where, the LPG burner would be placed. After all, Arun’s mother was ageing and it was getting increasingly difficult for her knees to squat on the floor and cook on the stove. Their combined mirth, slowly started lending a cocoon of comfort and security to their otherwise anxious nights and insecure days that they had together led, so far. 

Into his final year, Arun took to teaching Biology to a number of school students, to which his mother objected, severely. She said, “all our efforts will go to vain if you do not do well, in your final MBBS, Arun”. She was very proud of her handsome, fair and brilliant boy, and hoped to see him either in a private practice or in a hospital very soon. Just after he completed, his final MBBS exam, instead of taking a break and hanging out with his friends, Mira observed that Arun spent a lot of time at a nearby cyber café and came home quite late. When questioned, he used to reply that he was at the USIS, going through books. Mira soon learnt that Arun planned to appear for the USMLE exams, the Postgraduate Medical entrance exams for entry into MD programs at United States Medical Schools.

This was the first time that Arun had taken a major decision without even hinting about his plans to his mother, let alone, discussing or consulting with her. Mira was morose and depressed for a few days. She could understand that Arun’s dependence on her was ebbing slowly, which was only but natural. She had to let her boy free into his own world. The time had arrived, when the strapping and the comfort of the nest needed to be loosened.

The night before, Arun was to leave for John Hopkins University, School of Medicine in Baltimore, Maryland, Mira and Arun sat side by side on Arun’s bed for a long time, looking into the opposite wall and clasping on to each other’s hand. This was their world, from the time she was his mother, and, he, his son, and the bond had gone from strength to strength. Though unspoken, but they had promised to each other that they needed no other in this microcosm. And now it was breaking into two, and each of them was innately worried about the other’s wellbeing.

Mira was abruptly reminded of the fact that, a few last minute packing was needed to be completed, and as she started to slide off the bed, Arun held her back and slipped a cardboard box into her hand. “What is this, babu?” Mira uttered in amazement. “Something to keep us connected, Ma” replied Arun. He then opened the box, took out a shining new, smartphone and placed it on Mira’s hands, before touching her feet. Tears were flowing freely, in two pairs of eyes and the hazy watery view perhaps offered them the last contour of what was not to be, anymore, ever again.

Arun called Mira daily, around the time, Mira, woke up in the morning. That would be about the same time, around which, Arun would be returning to his rented apartment that he shared with another fellow Indian. Then Arun would call her up again to ask in details about a recipe while he cooked his dinner.

A school going teen, Aparna, belonged to a family that had built a home next to Mira’s house. Mira soon grew to be very fond of this chirpy girl. Api, as Mira, lovingly called Aparna, came to see her every day, and her presence was gradually filling up the void that had been created a few months earlier at Arun’s departure. Aparna taught Mira to Skype, and mother son were soon happily engaged in a friendly banter face to face, that both of them had been missing for so long. Life was slowly settling itself down for both of them. In a few months time, Mira was adept at using Whatsapp and Facebook too. A whole new world of connectivity and opportunities opened up to her. She held the smart phone close to her chest at night, as if wanting to feel her small ‘babu’, but all she could feel was the chill of the metallic body of the smart phone.

As one year got onto the next, one evening as Mira was instructing Arun on Skype on how to prepare ‘dimer dalna’ or spicy egg curry, the way, Arun liked, he seemed to want to say something to her. After some small talk, he suddenly blurted out that he wanted her to meet someone called Linda. Mira was a bit bewildered at first, but then understanding dawned on her. The news was so sudden that she was in a tizzy and did not know how to react properly. However, she managed a smile and agreed to a Skype session with Arun and Linda the very next day.

At night as she gathered her thoughts to herself, she kept rationalising and fighting her own emotions. This was the second important decision of Arun’s life that he had taken without even informing her. Then she reasoned with herself, that perhaps he must have felt embarrassed to break this news to his mother and actually it was only a matter of time, Arun ultimately would have fallen for one of his white female colleagues. Mira understood the pangs of loneliness and empathised with Arun. In midst of this mental and emotional debate, as Mira floated off to sleep, she felt that she was complete and happy in Arun’s happiness.

Next evening back from work, Mira took extra care to clean her face, put on a bindi and wore a fresh ‘tant sari, as she and Api waited for, Arun’s call. As Arun’s call came through, she could feel excitement tingling at her fingertips, as she pressed the green button. Arun’s nervous face, hovered on the screen. “Ma, here is Linda, I want you to meet her”. Arun moves aside from the screen and a beaming Linda’s face became visible as she folded her hands in a ‘namaste’. Mira felt her smile fading, and her muscles stiffening. The frosted reticence was palpable on both sides. A few minutes of awkward silence followed, and Arun tried to cover up the iciness with a few niceties, but the truth of perception was out in the open.

That night, Mira cried like never before. Much more than she had cried, the day, her husband had abandoned her, more profusely than the day, Arun had left for the US. She had faced many hardships and disappointments in life and it was actually very odd that such a seemingly insignificant disappointment of Linda being a black American, older in age to her son, could break her down to such an extent. But though she kept reasoning with herself, the ice never thawed, and the distance between Arun and her ma kept growing. They now barely spoke to each other in months as Arun and Linda could sense her resentment towards them. The silence between them kept growing as Mira’s ego restrained her from calling up and enquiring. Each month, Arun sent Mira some dollars into her bank account, but Mira did not touch that money.

About a year later, one day, Arun text messaged, Mira to tell her that he was not well and had been admitted to a hospital. She called on Arun’s phone frantically, but it went unanswered. She kept calling repeatedly, but to no avail. However, she observed that Arun was available on Whatsapp but was not responding to her messages. Mira’s appetite left her, she stopped going to work. The only thing she did the whole day was to stare blankly at her phone screen.

Aparna, was worried to see her in such a state, and tried to bring some sanity back into the situation by forcing her to eat and by sleeping beside her at night. She kept consoling her and telling her that if any message came in, then a notification sound would inform her and that it was not necessary for her to keep staring at the screen.

She willed herself to not check her phone to see if he had replied. It had been about three days now. She hated that she was constantly checking his 'last seen at' status and yes, he had logged in just five minutes ago. Yet she couldn't stop herself. This sinking feeling to find absolutely no communication from him was becoming unbearable, almost torturous.

And then, just as she sat down in her chair, her phone vibrated. With her heart thudding in her ear, she unlocked her phone and stared at the screen. Finally! It was his message. But when she opened it and read it, she nearly stopped breathing. She didn't know if he was joking or not. What was this? He had written, “Ma, I am coming to you, next thursday”. She could not believe her eyes and her dry anxious eyes, welled up in tears. All her resentment vanished in a moment.

At the airport arrival lounge, as Mira and Aparna waited with bated breath, the arrival of Arun’s flight was announced. Passengers slowly started trickling in. Mira eagerly scanned each face, until she noticed Linda in the crowd, pulling a luggage trolley and a pram at the same time. She too was anxiously scanning faces and as Mira called out her name for the first time, she came and stood before her. Mira disconcertedly, kept looking behind Linda, but Arun was nowhere to be seen. Linda, picked up the baby, from the pram, and put him in Mira’s hands. Tears of intense, heart-wrenching sorrow and unabashed joy flowed at the same time from both their eyes. And that deluge washed away all the contrast and discrepancy between two loving mothers.

All in the Game

Maya turned back, as she heard her name, being called out. Bhargav, the history teacher was calling out to her. ‘Leaving early today? What’s the occasion?’ he asked after rolling his eyes and winking. She was in a more than gorgeous sari than that was suitable for a teacher in school. Maya smiled back, she replied to Bhargav, ‘in a bit of a hurry today, talk to you later, okay?’ She ran down the stairs and walked briskly across the basketball field. Just outside the school gate, there always sat an old woman, selling flowers and garlands. She bought a jasmine garland from her. Sandip loved the smell of jasmine, she smiled to herself as she thought about it. Sandip was in for a surprise, as she had taken off after half a day at school and wanted to be home early.

The metro was comparatively empty as the ‘office rush’ was still a few hours away. She sat down at a seat near the gate and the cool breeze made her feel drowsy. She went back ten years in her thoughts. At about this time, ten years back, her house was swarming with relatives and friends and the smell of fish fries and pulao, wafted in the air. Her groom was supposed to arrive by dusk, at ‘godhuli’ and the entire household was in a rush. Her friends were getting her ready, the red banarasi lay on one side of the bed, jewellery boxes were strewn about and a cane basket full of jasmine garlands were lying near the foot of the bed. Those were happy memories for her.

Her days at the one roomed apartment were happy. Sandip was working as an accountant at a small Investment Firm. It was very difficult to make ends meet, and she had to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to prepare Sandip’s breakfast and his tiffin, which he carried to office. This way they could save on some money. Sandip walked for about 2 kms to the bus stop and Maya did all the household chores. Having mutton, once a month, bought from a nearby meat-shop, was a day of celebration for them and every month each small thing that they bought for their home made them feel a little more rich and proud of themselves.

The scenario soon changed, however, as one evening, Sandip, rushed in, his eyes flushed with excitement, Maya knew that her days were about to change. Sandip had received a fabulous offer and a company accommodation. The raise in his salary was also considerable. That night as they lay together, and moonbeams filtered in through the net curtains, they felt that they were perhaps the happiest couple on earth. Success and happiness begets more happiness and success and soon enough, Maya, who was looking for a job, secured a teaching position as a geography teacher in the junior section of a secondary school. It was time, Maya thought that they should think about starting a family and Sandip didn’t seem too averse to that.

Soon, they started seeing lesser and lesser of each other as work pressure increased for Sandip. He had more friends now and frequently was late in returning home. He was also a frequent traveler now and had to leave town more often. Sanjay was Sandip’s closest friend at office and he dropped in often during weekends. Sanjay was a bachelor and he accompanied both Maya and Sandip to their trips to movies and dinners out. Slowly, Maya started confiding in Sanjay too and his knowledge about all and sundry, his story weaving capacity kept Maya mesmerized. What she longed for, from Sandip, his companionship, his intimacy, he started looking for, in Sanjay. However, whatever she did, she made sure that she never transgressed the boundaries of her marital vows. Despite everything, her emotional needs, cried out in want and so whatever little emotional support she got from Sanjay, she sapped it up like dry soil waiting for rain. Sanjay’s closeness with Maya did not go past Sandip, and to Maya’s utmost amazement, Sandip was totally indifferent to it. Maya was baffled, and hurt at the same time. Somewhere, still deep down inside, she yearned only for Sandip and hoped to see him angry or jealous. That would still mean that he still had dormant feelings for her. The other side of love was not anger, jealousy or hatred, it was indifference. She was bruised to no end that nothing about her mattered to Sandip, anymore, and in order to ease that pain, she looked up to Sanjay for company, in order to fill up her void.

One night as Sandip was in the washroom and Maya had finished cleaning up the kitchen, she picked up, Sandip’s phone and  his wallet from the living room couch so that she could keep it secure in the bedroom drawer. Suddenly a text message entered Sandip’s phone. ‘My body is aching for you Jaan’. Maya stood transfixed to the ground. There was nothing left to imagination. Nothing could cover up the truth that was glowing in sharp white letters in front of her eyes. So this was it, this was the reason for Sandip’s indifference, this was the reason, he was always tired and never thought of holding her, hugging her or kissing her. This was the reason that her husband turned the other way and snored as soon as he touched bed. She slumped on the floor, still clutching on to the phone and the wallet. Her eyes were dry and glowing in pain and humiliation. 

Sandip, came across Maya, sitting cross-legged on the floor, near their bed. He called out to her a number of times, and when she did not answer, he muttered and grumbled under his breath and then he went to bed alone and started his rhythmic snoring spells. Maya could not still believe that this was happening to her. She kept rocking to and fro, and tried to calm herself down. She knew that screaming, shouting or crying would not help and that things could go worse, that way. She stayed awake the entire night and just to avoid facing Sandip, she went to lie down in the couch in the living room. She heard Sandip, wake up, go to the washroom, she heard the clank of pans, as Sandip made a cup of tea for himself, She even felt, Sandip coming into her room and stand quietly by the couch as she kept pretending to sleep. She was broken, bruised and sleep was coming naturally to her, but before, dozing off, she left a message for Sanjay, asking him to see her before going to office.

Sanjay stood glum faced, his head hanging, before Maya, who was screaming like a banshee. ‘you too, Sanjay?! You betrayed me too? You must have known all along that Sandip had a soft spot for Kanika at office, You must have seen what was brewing between them and now you find the opportunity to come and tell me that they go out together on office trips only after I crossed you??!!’ Sanjay, frantically tried to calm Maya down. ‘Maya, I only did this, because I could not bear to see you hurt and humiliated.’ ‘But could you stop me from getting hurt, or stop the truth from seeing daylight?’, she screamed again. Sanjay, nervously fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette, but found his phone. He waited and thought for a minute or two and then called Sandip at his office and asked him to come back home on an emergency basis.

When Sandip hurried home, already, guessing the situation there, Maya and Sanjay were slumped on the living room couch. Sandip was ready with his speech. Without a word, he sat on his knees in front of his wife and asked for forgiveness. He also promised never to repeat his dastardly act, ever again. Sanjay was a witness to the scene, where the couple clung to each other for their dear lives. Maya was holding on to Sandip as if she would never let him go.

That was about a year back and today on their 10^th anniversary, Maya was all set to surprise Sandip, with his favourite dishes, and an Emporio Armani watch. The only other invitee was Sanjay. The clock was ticking towards 7 as Sanjay, rang the bell. Maya, expected to see Sandip with him, but, Sanjay informed her that he was stuck up with some last minute work and would arrive in an hour’s time. Maya looked up to Sanjay and asked him directly. ‘Tell me, Sanjay, is that woman still running after, Sandip?, is Sandip still talking to her? Please don’t hide anything from me. Is Sandip late today, again, because of her?’ ‘What the hell is going on between my husband and that bitch?' Maya's patience was at its lowest ebb and she was ready to burst. Sanjay knew that she was serious. 'Look, Maya. There is nothing going on between the two of them. Just a little bit of healthy flirting, I'd say.'

'Flirting? Healthy flirting? Really Sanjay . . .' she rolled her eyes in disgust. 'That's what you men call it? There is nothing healthy about flirting, Sanjay, not for a married man. Healthy flirting is a term introduced by perverted men who want to lend legitimacy to their extramarital dalliances. Flirting invariably has a sexual connotation to it.' She got up from her seat and walked around the room gesticulating and muttering something to herself. Suddenly she stopped, turned back, looked at Sanjay and asked, 'Did my husband sleep with her? You are his friend. Did he ever tell you anything about it?' Sanjay muttered something that was not very clear and excused himself to go to the washroom. Suddenly a text message entered Sanjay’s phone which was lying on the dining table. ‘can’t wait to see you, Jaan, even an hour of your absence seems too long.’ Maya clutched Sanjay’s phone, the same way, she had held on to Sandip’s phone. A deathly and eerie silence ensued, as Maya passed out.