Category: NaBloPoMo

Chapter Fifty One: Eight Years Later

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a long time. It’s just, I am so busy with my life and all the other lives I’m now a part of. A lot has been happening lately.

Today dawned just another boring Tuesday, but the important thing, today’s Pa’s ninth death anniversary. I was a quiet day, and I made his favourite chapatti — just the usual.

Also, we got some great news yesterday. “Dissolve Addiction” members are all doing really well. We have succeeded more than I thought. I’m really glad. We’ve got new volunteers and a whole lot of benefactors. Yay!

Anil’s interview aired yesterday, and he was amazing of course. He spoke of us and how we got things started. And he spoke of Niveda. I didn’t know he would, and after a long time, thinking of her made me cry. If only we could have saved her.

I saw him do the interview, but seeing him on television really gave me the spark. You know what? He looked so handsome in that blue shirt I picked up, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Anyway, about “Dissolve Addiction” — we’ve sent out thousands of people who are better off. Their families are so grateful to see them free. It’s priceless. Particularly the children. I’ve never been happier for starting this organization.

Anil is taking care of the organization, and I’m juggling between this and teaching. He’s done a great job, really. He’s almost taking care of everything single handed. I’m so glad he doesn’t regret quitting his job. It’s as if both he and I have taken our inspiration from James.

But here’s the truth, Diary. In the beginning, we got nowhere, and I worried about failing. None of our members were motivated enough, they tried, yes, but kept giving up. And then James heard of our endeavour and called us. It was James and Rasheed (Remember him? The physician who treated Niveda?) who helped us get on track. Rasheed connected us with a few professionals and then it was all success from there.

Ms Marrie called today. She’s having a good time. She likes traveling and meeting new people. It’s surprising, you know, how she’s so active for her age. We celebrated her fortieth birthday last year, and she bubbled with energy. She was like these women in American TV series. You know, those old women who neither look nor sound old? That’s how she is, she’s got herself a comfortable car and is planning to make road trips throughout the country.

Another weird thing happened last night. Niveda’s mother called me. Can you believe it? I didn’t think so.

She called in to say she was sorry. ‘What for?’ I asked, and she said, it was for the way she had treated me all those years ago. I told her she should feel sorry for the way she had treated Niveda. After all, it was her fault, right?

Anyway, I don’t even know why she suddenly thought of apologizing. Maybe it was the interview. But I don’t care about her. I have other, important things to worry about.

That’s it for now, I think.
Talk later.

Chapter Fifty: The Final Chance

Praveena carried on, sharing her knowledge and experience with the children who came her way. She painted whenever she felt like it and grew as an artist.

She showcased her paintings in exhibitions, and people bought her work with interest that surprised her. In all of the exhibitions she attended, she displayed the drawing of the three stallions. But despite a lot of people offering to buy it, she remained reluctant to sell.

She and Ms Marrie met now and then in The Green Leaf restaurant. They spoke of things that bothered them, and Ms Marrie would often give Praveena some handy tips.

On her twenty-eighth birthday, Praveena eagerly opened the letter she had received. Ms Marrie and Anil were her only well wishers. Ms Marrie had called early in the morning, and the letter had to be from Anil. And sure enough, it was a hand-written letter.

Dearest Praveena,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am well too. Life in Bangalore is so boring. I am thinking of shifting to Chennai, and stay closer to you if it’s alright with you.

How is your life? I know you would have changed a lot from the last time we spoke. I know the lonely years have troubled you, but remember, you are not alone. I’ll always be with you.

I really hope you do take care of yourself. I will be coming over to Chennai tomorrow and want to talk to you. Meet me in “The Green Leaf” at one o’clock.
Please do come.

Anil.

Praveena read and reread the letter. Anil was coming to Chennai? After such a long time? She couldn’t understand why. And why had he mentioned the place and time in the letter? He could have just called her, or an SMS would have been enough, she wondered confused. She felt a bit reluctant to meet him. What would they talk about?

She waited for Anil at The Green Leaf restaurant. Ever since her father had died, their friendship gradually diminished. ‘Then why’ her inner voice was curious ‘does he want to meet you?’

Anil came into the restaurant and walked over to her. He hadn’t changed much. His hair was unkempt as it had always been, and he wore blue jeans and a blue full sleeved shirt folded half-way.

“Hey,” he said taking the seat opposite her, smiling through his trimmed boxed beard.

“Hi,” she smiled broadly. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said earnestly. Seeing Anil again brought back old memories, bringing a familiar smile on her face. “how’ve you been?” she asked.

“Good, good” he replied, nodding. “and you?” he raised his eyebrows.

Praveena nodded. ‘Alright’. Anil nodded as well.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked crossing her arms on the table.

“Oh,” Anil hesitated. “Er – about starting that self-help, recovery thing,” he waved his arms casually, “remember?”

“What about it, Anil?” Praveena asked exasperatedly.

“Let’s start the organization,” Anil said rubbing his hands together looking excited all of a sudden. “I’m bored with my job,” and seeing her raised eyebrows, he added, “you wanted to do this too. We’ll get it started,” he shrugged.

Praveena thought about it. He was right. She had wanted to do this, but she wasn’t sure if now was a good time. But she also didn’t know when a good time was. She could work in the institution and teach at the same time. That wouldn’t be a problem. She wondered why the thought had never occurred to her earlier. ‘Because you had no one to talk to,’ the voice in her head helped, and Praveena agreed silently. With Anil back at her side, they could set this up together. Her dream would become reality.

Anil watched in silence as she waged the war in her head. He had seen her do it before and knew better than to interrupt.

“Alright Anil,” she sighed. “Let’s do this,” she smiled widely. After a long time, she felt the same excitement she had had years before when the thought first hatched in her head. “Thanks, for coming,” she smiled at him.

They sipped on their juice in silence, and once finished, she was about to stand, when Anil stopped her, “Praveena?” She looked questioningly at him. “One more thing,” he paused looking serious.

“What is it Anil?” she asked leaning forward in her chair.

“I tried to tell you a lot of times…” he stalled shaking his head. He swallowed. And then, he smiled brightly. “Praveena,” he said, looking deep into her eyes, at the way her pupils dilated in curiosity, “Will you marry me?”

Chapter Forty Nine: A Father’s Confessions

Kamal parked in front of the small brick house. “Are you sure this is the place?” he asked Praveena who sat in the front seat next to him, examining a piece of paper. “Yes, Pa” she said looking at the half open gate. “This is it.”

They got down from the car and, despite the open gate, Kamal rang the doorbell. A thin woman clad in a sari with her hair held back in an unravelling bun, appeared at the gate. “Who is it?” she asked Kamal irritably. Praveena stepped forward. “Are you Mrs Henry, Helen’s mother?” she asked.

“Yes,” the woman answered, a little uncertain. “But who are you?” she sounded confused, and Praveena knew Helen’s name was the reason.

“I’m Praveena, Helen’s art teacher at school. And this is my father,” she announced. “Can we speak to you, if you don’t mind?” she asked politely.

“Oh, sure.” the woman replied courteously and opened the gate widely to allow them inside. “Please come in, Helen’s told me a lot about you.” her smile had become warmer.

Praveena and Kamal followed the lady inside the house. “Please sit,” Mrs Henry offered, clearing away the toys from the chairs. “Sorry about that,” she said breathlessly “They are my son’s.”

“Never mind,” Praveena waved her hand away.

“Shall I get you something to drink? Coffee – ”

“Nothing, please.” Praveena said shaking her head, “won’t you sit down? We need to talk to you, and your husband.” She looked around for the man of the house.

“He’s not home at the moment,” Mrs Henry said, “Is it about Helen? Has she done – ?” Praveena cut her off with a shake of her head. “This isn’t about Helen,” she said sighing. “It’s about your husband.”

Mrs Henry glared at Praveena as if she were mad. Praveena explained, in detail, what Helen had told her in school that day.

As she finished, she noticed Mrs Henry’s eyes soften. “He doesn’t do it on purpose,” she said dutifully defending her husband. “He can’t help it. He has tried to drop the habit, but he can’t.” she shook her head in worry. “Helen doesn’t understand how much it pains him. Once he gets drunk, he forgets his family.” Praveena let her finish, she saw traces of tears in Mrs Henry’s eyes.

“Well, in that case,” Praveena sighed. “Why don’t you get help? Talk to a therapist and get your husband involved in rehab or an alcoholics organization. There are people who support those who want to give up addiction.” As Praveena spoke, her father watched in silence, unable to believe what he saw.

Praveena continued and Mrs Henry listened intently, “Encourage him to follow the therapist’s medications. Keep telling him he can do it, and one day, he will. Trust me.” she nodded.

Mrs Henry responded with a grateful look. “Thank you so, much. I’ll talk to him.”

Praveena nodded smiling. “Tell him to give it a try. For his kids, at least.”

Praveena yawned as they walked into the house. She wanted to fall back on the couch and sleep, but there was dinner to take care of. “Let’s have toast,” her father said reading her.

After dinner, both of them slumped on the couch. Praveena waited for her father to switch on the TV, but he didn’t. When she was about to do it, he stopped her.

“Can I talk to you, Praveena?” he asked quietly.

“Sure, Pa.” she said turning to him. She had a feeling he was about to tell her to quit her job. She wasn’t in the mood to argue, but she knew she would.

“I’m proud of you, Praveena.” he said unexpectedly.

“Huh?” Praveena wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

Kamal smiled apologetically. “I never realized,” he sighed “how much you’ve grown,” Praveena listened, not sure where this conversation was headed. “I’m sorry, Praveena.”

“No, Pa,” she shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, you haven’t done anything wrong!” she defended.

“No, Praveena.” he held her hand in both of his. “I shouldn’t have stopped you from doing what’s right. I’m really sorry,” he pleaded with tears peeping through his eyelids. He blinked them away. Praveena couldn’t make sense of it at all. What had gotten into her father?

“Listen Praveena,” he continued. “when you told me that you wanted to help drug addicts, I wasn’t sure if you were mature enough for that kind of thing. But today,” he shook his head, unable to speak for a while. “you handled it so well,” he gulped.

“Go ahead, Praveena,” he continued. “Don’t let me stop you. Do whatever feels right to you.” he had tears in his eyes as he finished saying what he had wanted to tell her. “I’ll be wth you always,” he added smiling encouragingly.

A sense of relief spread through Praveena’s veins. She had always wanted her father to believe in her. He now did. Time does work its magic.

Life for Praveena went along just fine. She postponed her plans for her self-help group. She liked what she did and wanted to spend more time teaching. Two years she worked alongside Ms Marrie and changing a lot of lives. Helen’s father recovered, and now every time she saw Helen, Praveena couldn’t help but feel proud of herself.

During the third year of her teaching life, Ms Marrie announced her retirement. She hadn’t thought of marriage, but had decided to live alone and conduct private classes to students who wished to learn from her. And there were a good number of students who were willing. A phenomenon that didn’t surprise Praveena at all.

Later that year, Praveena’s father passed away from cardiac arrest. The loss left Praveena shaken, and the customary pity from the relatives who had hated him did nothing more than to annoy her. Anil didn’t make it to the funeral but he had called to console Praveena as best as he could. Speaking with Anil made her feel much better. She held on to the comfort as she walked the treacherous path that followed Kamal’s death.

Chapter Forty Eight: Duties

Praveena cherished her experience teaching in her own school. On her second day, she decorated her room. She covered the table in a white spread and placed a photo of Niveda, Anil, and herself. That picture was a reminder of the evil of drugs and its effect on wonderful relationships. She had also brought the painting she had done in college, the one with three stallions basking undisturbed in a valley. She stuck the painting on the wall behind the table so that it was the first thing any one would see when they entered the room. The rest of the wall, she left bare, unsure what to add. She had planned to collect paintings and writings from her students and display them as an exhibition one day.

Kareem had asked her to fill in as a temporary art teacher. The current teacher had left on a maternity leave. And so, Praveena met with her first class, the third year students. After a warm welcome, she asked them all to paint whatever came to their mind. At the end of the forty five minutes class, only a handful of students had finished their drawings.

“Alright, everyone.” she called as the bell signalled end of class. “leave your drawings on my desk, you can continue tomorrow.” she clapped her hands to get their attention. One by one, she saw the students examining their drawings critically as they came up to submit it. Praveena gathered all the paintings and was about to lock them away when she saw a girl, too small for her age, still poring over her drawing at the back of the class. Praveena went to her and stood over her, watching. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide in fear, at Praveena.

Praveena smiled at her, “That’s a beautiful house,” she complimented, “shall we continue tomorrow?” she held out a hand, and the girl handed over her incomplete drawing. “Thank you,” Praveena smiled. She went over to the cupboard and locked the paintings away. She then turned to the students who were all on their feet. “See you tomorrow, girls” She waved a hand at them. As she turned to leave, she noticed Mr Andrew on the doorway.

Praveena swallowed. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Mr Andrew’s face reflected her shock. “Praveena?” he asked incredulously. “you are the new art teacher?” he shook his head in disbelief.

Praveena forced a smile. “Yes, Sir” she said. “How are you?” she inquired more out of courtesy than of concern.

“Fine,” he said in a flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.” He walked past Praveena into the class room and Praveena left as soon as she could.

She was having lunch in her room when there was a curt knock on her door. She opened the door to Ms Marrie. “Hey, Praveena!” she beamed. “How’s work?”

Praveena smiled and gestured Ms Marrie into the room. Ms Marrie took the new chair Praveena had requested. “So, how is work?” Ms Marrie repeated.

“Ah, it’s great Miss!” Praveena gleefully replied taking her seat, facing Ms Marrie. “I love it,” she said, “but, I didn’t expect to run into Mr Andrew.” she sighed.

“Ah, yes” Ms Marrie smiled apologetically, “that, I forgot to tell you.” she smiled innocently. Praveena smiled, shaking her head. “he hasn’t changed much, has he?” she observed.

“Somethings never change,” Ms Marrie nodded.

“Are any of the old teachers still here?” Praveena asked tentatively, making Ms Marrie laugh.

“Selima left about a year after you finished,” smiling at the look of relief on Praveena’s face. “and the others too have left. It’s only Andrew and me now.” She finished laughing.

Anil called Praveena on Saturday morning.

“Hey, Praveena” he spoke softly. “how are you?”

Taken unexpected by his call, she replied delightedly. “I’m great! Sounds like MBA has softened you a bit,” she laughed teasingly.

“Maybe,” he laughed too. He had called to check on her and her experience teaching. They chatted away happily for about thirty minutes.

When she disconnected the call, Praveena felt her happiness double. She smiled to herself.

As months flew by, Praveena gained a lot of friends in the form of students. She was the teacher who respected them and agreed with them when they complained about the overload of homework.

Praveena felt like a child herself when she was with her students.

One day, during lunch, the little girl from the third grade came over to her room.

“Hello, Helen” Praveena greeted her, escorting the girl into her room and helping her sit. Praveena noticed Helen’s huge, black, bloodshot eyes. “What can I do for you, Helen?” she asked gently kneeling down in front of the girl.

All of a sudden, the girl began weeping and shaking uncontrollably. Praveena hadn’t expected this. Trying not to panic, she made an effort to console the girl. She hugged her, stroking her head reassuringly.

“Helen,” she spoke softly. “What happened?” She looked at the girl who stared back at her, eyes streaming. “It’s — my father,” she stammered, difficult to speak.

“What happened to him?” Praveena asked patiently.

Helen shook her small head vigorously. “Helen…” Praveena urged quietly.

The girl sniffed away tears, trying to speak. “Dad,” she began “drinks every day and beats Mom asking for money. He hit me today,” Praveena watched helplessly as the girl’s eyes swelled with tears.

That evening, Praveena went home determined to help the girl. She wanted to talk to the girl’s father and explain the impact of his behaviour on his child.

“Pa,” Praveena spoke to her father as he came home that night. “Hmm?” he looked at her. His expression grew worried as he saw Praveena’s disturbed face.

Praveena told him of the day’s events. Kamal listened with a rising sense of dread. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’m going to talk to the father,” Praveena said with an air of finality, “and I want you to come with me,” she added and paused for his reply. She was ready to argue with him if he disagreed.

To her utter surprise, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he said and left for his room.

Praveena stood in the living room, dazed.

Chapter Forty Seven: Change is Good

Ms Marrie escorted Praveena through a path she knew so well, but it all seemed new somehow. She guessed Mr Kareem had been doing well as new principal. Ms Marrie stopped in front of a door that had a tiny metal plate with the words,

Kareem,
Principal.

Praveena turned to Ms Marrie in astonishment. She remembered Principal Vanitha’s name plate, which listed her degrees. Smiling to herself, Praveena rejoiced the school was in responsible hands.

“He’s expecting you. Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly gesturing Praveena to go inside. Praveena knocked once and a gruff voice told her to enter. She did. “Good morning Sir,” she smiled walking up to his table.

A well-built middle aged man, Kareem had dark and overgrown flyaway hair. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt, and Praveena noticed a pair of spectacles lying untouched on his desk. He had his locked palms resting against his chin examining a piece of paper as Praveena entered.

“Please,” he smiled courteously at Praveena “call me Kareem.”

Praveena’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it, but not before he had seen it. He laughed, a soft and musical laugh.

“So,” Kareem said once he had stopped laughing. “Ms Kamal. Why don’t you take a seat?” he gestured at the chair facing him. She did, thoroughly nonplussed at the principal’s behaviour.

“Now, Ms Kamal –” he began, but stopped short, “mind if I call you Praveena? It’s a bit easier,” he smiled. Praveena noticed the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled.

“Please,” she replied easily. For the first time, she felt comfortable in this room.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Praveena,” he said in a more serious tone, “you are an old student,” she nodded, “so you would know this place quite well. I’ve made changes to this school, and hope you like them.”

“What if I don’t?” Praveena asked playfully. She regretted it the very next second. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. But Kareem didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look irritated. Instead, he smiled slightly. Praveena hadn’t expected that.

“Well, if you don’t like it,” he smiled “you don’t have to.” He continued, laughing at Praveen’s shocked expression.

Praveena took some time to recover. “I’m sorry,” she said her eyes cast down.

“Don’t be!” Kareem exclaimed joyfully. “I like your enthusiasm.” Praveena looked at him smiling slightly. He returned the gesture.

“Well,” he grew serious again, “we need an extra teacher, and I’m personally glad we could get an old student for the position. We’ll discuss your salary later, but first, I think your students are waiting to meet their new class teacher.” he raised his eyebrows. “Marrie will show you your class. Good luck, Praveena!” he stood up and smiled.

Praveena stood up as well. “Thank you, Sir –” Kareem glared at her, and she quickly corrected herself, “Kareem,” she nodded with a smile and left the room, satisfied with herself.

They didn’t say anything to each other but Praveena’s look conveyed everything Ms Marrie had wanted to know. Praveena’s joy was obvious.

Ms Marrie led Praveena through familiar corridors. She went past her own room and stopped in front of the next one.

“Ta-da!” she exclaimed gleefully, gesturing at the closed door. “Welcome to your room,” she smiled.

Praveena hadn’t expected her own room. Ms Marrie opened the room and Praveena walked inside. There was an empty desk with a chair in the centre of the room. Apart from that, the room was void of furniture or decoration. The walls were bare except for the gleaming white paint.

“You can decorate it any way you want.” Ms Marrie announced. Praveena wheeled to face Ms Marrie who leant on the doorway looking bemused at her astonishment. “Kareem’s rule” she added.

“Come on,” Ms Marrie gestured. Praveena walked out of the room, and Ms Marrie handed her the key. Praveena didn’t know what to make of all the strange, but wonderful things Kareem had done to her school.

Ms Marrie next stopped in front of a class Praveena recognized as her classroom during the final year in school. They were the senior-most students, and it was another surprise to see all the students conversing in low tones. Praveena looked at Ms Marrie, suddenly nervous. “Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

Praveena took a deep sigh, and thinking of James’ first class in college, walked inside the room.

As soon as she entered, a hush fell through the room. She placed her file on the table and faced the students. There were about fifty of them, and Praveena saw eager eyes staring into hers. On the walls hung random paintings and crafts. A particular origami peacock that sat in a corner table caught Praveena’s eye.

Suddenly, she felt comfortable in the room. They were students, they were here to learn something, ‘not unlike yourself,’ her inner voice finished her thought.

“Hello everyone,” she began simply. “I’m Praveena, an old student, now your class teacher.” she smiled. All of them stood up in unison, and said greeted her in one voice, “Welcome back, Ms Praveena.”

Praveena was taken aback. The students, just like their principal, had a way of making new people feel comfortable and welcome.

The first day was smooth. The students were easy to talk to, they were a curious lot and Praveena told them about herself and learned their names.

Suddenly a girl stood up and asked, “What subject do you teach, Miss?”

“I’m a substitute. And…” she stalled. “It’s my first day. Must we talk about work?” she asked smiling. So did the girl, whose name was Grace.

For the first time in her life, Praveena looked forward to school the next day.