Tag: love

Victorious Closure

Shakespeare is my love. And though I’ve read and enjoyed his sonnets, I had never managed to read his full plays. I read the abridged editions, yes, but the original was always beyond my ability.

An then, it changed. With some encouragement, I tried reading Hamlet — the full play. I loved every bit of it. By the time I finished reading it, I grew hungry for more.

It felt great to accomplish such a big feat and I will cherish the thrill forever. Here’s my victory: reading a complete Shakespeare play.

victory

National Blog Posting Month – Day 15.

I’ve taken a break today from my schedule of publishing one chapter a day from my NaNoWriMo novel from two years ago. I’ll publish chapter 14 tomorrow.

Chapter Twelve: Motherless Woes

Praveena stayed home for a week. Not to recover from the shock, as others would have described it, but to help her father piece himself together. Praveena knew Geetha’s death had affected him more than it had her. She knew he couldn’t let her go; he loved her too much. When Praveena asked Kamal, two days after the funeral, why their relatives had never shown up before, he only said, “They weren’t too happy with us getting married.” From the way he said it, Praveena could discern how much they had loved each other to dare to oppose their families and succeed together for such a long time.

The days that followed Geetha’s death were the worst days of Praveena’s life. She was filled with emotions and thoughts she couldn’t share with anyone. Kamal was heartbroken. He needed Praveena to sit by him, more for moral support than anything. For hours, they would sit together, nonspeaking, reflecting their days with Geetha; happy days of laughter, quarrels and serious conversations on the same couch they now sat. It was as if an undeniable part of them had suddenly left, leaving an unfilled dent in their hearts.

When Praveena went back to school, all eyes followed her. She could see the pity in everyone’s eyes, even the teachers looked extra kind. And it bothered her.

Andrew spoke to her after class that day. Gathering his things, he called to her, “Praveena, follow me please.” His voice was a bit gentler than it had been the day he had reported about her to Kamal.

She followed him to an empty class room nearby. He turned to face her, “I am really very sorry for your loss.” Flat and emotion-less words spoken as such.

Praveena, not knowing what to say, remained quiet. She didn’t meet his look, and cast her eyes at his polished shoes instead.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded at his shoes. Was that fear she detected in his voice? Her eyebrows arched in curiosity – still at the shoes. Perhaps not, she decided as he said, “OK, then. I’ll see you later.” he turned and strode away from her.

She stood immobile for a moment, staring at his back. And then she turned to her class.

As she sat waiting for the next teacher to arrive, Priya showed up from nowhere.

“Hey!” she said breathlessly, trying hard, and failing, to sound normal. She was brimming with curiosity, Praveena knew, but decided not to get to the details.

“Hi,” Praveena responded in the most unwelcoming tone she could muster. Priya didn’t meet Praveena’s gaze. Looking low, she said in a small voice, “Sorry about your mother.”

“Ya. So am I.” Praveena tried to keep her voice level and void of emotion. She looked at Priya’s face expressionless. She hated getting emotional in front of other people.

Priya looked up brightly, hoping Praveena would talk.

“So,” Priya swallowed and began tentatively, “What actually happened to your mom?” The words came out a little faster than normal.

Praveena felt rage welling within her but she knew Priya’s curiosity was harmless. ‘Besides,’ her inner voice vouched, ‘it is often tough to disguise curiosity. Not to mention wrong’ Nevertheless, she didn’t think she could speak about her mother’s sickness.

“She died,’ Praveena shrugged and opened her book. She wasn’t going to study, but she hoped it would ward Priya off. It didn’t. Priya stood her ground, persistent, “Yeah…” she took it slow, “but how? What happened?” Praveena could tell she tried not to sound too inquisitive, but couldn’t help it.

“What’s your problem?” Praveena lost control. She shut her book with a loud thud, and glared at Priya “don’t you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you?” She stood up so fast that Priya stumbled away from her, scared she might attack her. “I-don’t-what-to-talk-about-it” Praveena retorted through gritted teeth.

Priya looked shocked. “I was just being friendly” she said in a low voice as if she were about to cry, and backed away rapidly.

“Well, you’re doing a bad job of it!” Praveena almost screamed, looking furious. The whole class was looking at the pair of them, and from the corner of her eye, Praveena could see a few girls whispering hurriedly together. She didn’t care. Her anger had taken over. She stood staring as Priya left the class, almost running.

Praveena sat down rubbing her right temple. She did it until the anger subsided. She couldn’t understand what came over her. She felt angry all the time; Priya had only kindled her fury. Why was she so angry at Priya? She hadn’t asked anything wrong, she had only voiced what others couldn’t pick up the courage to do. Praveena knew there was no reason for her outburst and it worried her. ‘Am I going crazy?’ ‘Hello, inner voices? I could use a little help!’ she thought desperately.

She didn’t notice the rest of the class staring open-mouthed at her. Praveena was the quiet girl and it perplexed them to see her losing her temper at the most annoying girl in class.

They gaped, trying to make sense of it all. Just then, Ms Marrie entered the class and everyone hushed up and returned to their places, ready for class.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 13

 

Of Greatness

People talk so much about mothers and the sacrifices they make. For ages, people ignored their mothers and the sacrifices they made for their family.

But that’s changed now. Every mother’s day, people thank their mothers, speak so highly of their greatness and share photos on Facebook to show their gratitude to the rest of the world.

What about the other mothers?

She’s the one who starts work before you’re awake, sweeps your floors, cleans your bathrooms, refills your tissue rolls, clears away your empty cups, dusts your desk, rearranges your dishevelled papers, eats after you, and works on Sundays.

And yet, she’s not your mother.

She’s a maintenance staff. The people who make an office of a piece of construction.

So many of these maintenance staffs are mothers too. And it’s painful to see them working so hard for the people who don’t even spare a second look at them.

Most of them are my mother’s age. Every time I see one of them mopping the floor for the third time in a day, I wonder if I’d want my mother in the same situation.

I wouldn’t. Because it’s a sad job. Because people don’t see you for who you are; people don’t see you at all. And yet, not one of them walks past your place without taking away the cup you were too lazy to throw away. And if you happen to catch their eye, they smile at you — not the false smile you give your boss, but the one your mother gives you. What makes them do that?

I don’t think it’s passion for their work. A sense of conscience? Are they just loyal to their salary?

It’s not about the money. It was never about the money. Yes, it’s their job to clean, but it’s their choice to clean satisfactorily. Because they care. They care about you, they care for me.

It’s the human vulnerability. They look at me and they see their own daughter. The mother within drives them to do more, to do better.

I sat staring at the laptop one morning. It was the festival holidays and the office was almost empty. A maintenance staff came up and asked me why I didn’t go home for the festival holidays. We spoke for a while and she wondered aloud how hard it must be, living in a foreign city, away from family, not being able to go home for the holidays without getting crushed under poor roads and the terrible traffic of monsoon rains.

She works a 12-hour shift and her every break is valuable. She didn’t have to spend her time talking to me. But she did. She spent her free time consoling me. She didn’t know why I didn’t go home, she didn’t know I was too lazy to trudge through traffic.

She just assumed I couldn’t go, never once suspecting that I didn’t want to go. Because she’s a mother. And mothers don’t judge.

If that’s not great, what is?

Written for a contest run by Tata Motors to promote their campaign, #madeofgreat.

Chapter Eleven: Revelations

Nothing could have prepared Praveena for the days that followed. The funeral was held in their house. Geetha was in a glass box, set the living room where the couch used to sit. Seeing her mother laying there lifeless, Praveena painfully thought back to the conversations the two of them had had, sitting on the couch, sipping hot tea. Such a bad case of nostalgia overcame her that she couldn’t bear the thought of facing the ceremony.

She retreated to her room, as the house filled up with friends and relatives she didn’t know her mother had had. She had met none of them during these thirteen years of her life. But everyone seemed to know her. There was a group of old women who sat in a circle weeping and mourning. Looking at them, Praveena felt a sense of dread and hatred rise within her. ‘Who are these people, and why are they lamenting my mother?’ her anger flared, ‘Where were these people when she needed them most — when she was sick?’

Praveena looked at them with contempt as they all line up to pay their respects to a body they hadn’t bothered to call on when she lived. They, on the other hand, misunderstood her annoyance for sadness.

But Praveena was far from sad; she was mourning her mother more than anyone else ever would in a lifetime, but she was more worried at their pretense. They all seemed to care.

A middle aged woman had walked over to Praveena earlier. Showing all her betel-stained teeth, she had said, “Don’t you worry little girl. Everything’s going to be alright. What’s your name, again?”

Praveena thought she must have tried to console her, but she sounded far from it. They were nothing more than empty words. Praveena could say the woman was being civilized and well mannered; she meant non of her words, her false smile was too easy to see through. She was not the only one though, everyone showed they cared, in a way that proved they didn’t.

Parveena had had enough. She went to her room, locked herself inside and sat cross-legged on the bed. She wanted to cry but didn’t. A mix of emotions ran amok inside her head. She didn’t know what to feel. Her mother had gone, leaving Praveena and her father with civilized animals who lived to please others and worried only about their social status.

She shook her head in exasperation. “Why is everybody so bad?” she wondered a little too loud and angry.

‘That’s the nature of people, you’ll have to live with it’ It was her inner voice again.

“Stupid people, don’t you think?” Parveena questioned. She had gotten used to conversing with her inner voices. Alone now, she could speak aloud to herself without people thinking she had gone mad with grief.

‘Yes.’ It was so simple. People are stupid. They do stupid things for stupid reasons. It’s human. But people are also selfish and greedy and evil. That’s not human; that’s a choice. Somewhere along the way, people tend to give in to the temptation of greed.

‘Why though?’ Praveena wondered. ‘Why do people want more than they already have? Why aren’t people ever happy?’

It’s the kind of conversation she would have had with her mother. Now she’d have it with herself.

‘We are raised to believe that we are better than other creatures.’

Her inner voice had given her the answer. “True”, she agreed, we believe that we are better than other animals, and in the same way, we tend to believe that we are higher than other humans. We love to show our power over them, just to prove our belief. “How stupid of us.” She exclaimed in conclusion, shaking her head.

Suddenly, she felt like sharing this with someone. “Ma!” she called out without thinking.

Reality came crashing down on her head.

‘Ma is dead.’ — Inner voice again.

Praveena held her head in her hands, her excitement ebbing away. She lay back on her bed, eyes wide open and mind racing.

‘You look for answers outside, when you already have it within you. Look deep enough, and you’ll find it.’

Praveena silently agreed, staring at the swirling fan.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 12

Chapter Eight: Facing the Truth

It was dinner time. Kamal had come home directly from school and filled in Geetha. Neither of them said anything to Praveena as they sat down to eat. It didn’t bother her either, she assumed her mother had spoken to her father and advised him to rest the matter.

They ate in silence, which wasn’t new to the family. When they finished, Kamal opted to help Geetha do the dishes while Praveena took the couch and switched on the television.

She was switching channels without particular interest in anything when the movie channel came on. All of a sudden she paused, her thumb hovering over the ‘Next’ button. The Batman movie was on. She loved those movies. For a split second she watched Jim Gordon hugging his wife and then pressed the ‘Next’ button.

Geetha noticed it, but said nothing.

Just then, Kamal came back in to the living room and he and Geetha sat on either side of Praveena. She was surprised as her mother took her hand. It was cold. Praveena noticed that her mother was almost completely bald, and had lost so much weight in such a short time.

“We went to the doctor today” Geetha said in an even voice. Praveena waited, not wanting to hear the words that would follow.

“And he said everything’s fine!” Kamal said brightly and a little urgently. His smile was fixed and eyes so wide that it put Praveena off a little. She gave him a blank stare, and his smile faltered as he dropped his eyes.

“No.” Geetha denied firmly, giving her husband a stern look. She didn’t want to lie to her daughter. Praveena deserved the truth, even if it was terrifying. “he said, I’ll have one month to cook everything you love.” She smiled as if it called for a celebration.

Praveena took her mother’s hand in both of hers, and held it close to her heart. Geetha’s hand was cold but it spread warmth in Praveena. She wanted to bury her head in her mother’s shoulders and cry, cry till she had shed all the tears she could. She didn’t though. She didn’t want to spill even a drop of tear in front of her mother.

She didn’t know how long she sat like that.

———–

Praveena awoke with a jolt. Jumping out of bed, she ran to the kitchen. Geetha wasn’t there. She rushed to her parents’ room and found Geetha asleep.

She stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, too scared to move. Kamal came up to her from the adjoining room and touched her arm. She reeled to face him with fear all over her face.

Kamal put a finger to his lips and gestured her to follow him. Closing the door with a soft click, he led her to her room.

“Thank goodness you didn’t wake her!” He exclaimed sounding surprised and a little nonplussed. “why are you up so early?”

“I don’t know” Praveena mumbled confused. She was relieved. She sat cross-legged on the bed. “I — just woke,” she shrugged looking up into her father’s eyes that failed to hide his pain.

He gave her a reassuring smile and caressed her head. “That’s ok. Now try to get some sleep before you get ready for school, you’re way too early.” He left, shutting the door behind him with a sharp click.

Praveena lay on her back staring at the ceiling. She was scared to go back to sleep. Her mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on the first of November, the day after her birthday. From that day onwards, she hadn’t been the same with her mother. She was struck with an inexplicable grief she didn’t know how to get over. Each time she saw her mother, she thought of her approaching death and it made her heart ache in a way she had never felt before. She hadn’t told anyone at school about her mother. It was her secret; her sorrow. Even if she did tell anyone, they would never understand how she felt. Sure, they’d say they do, and they would even act like they cared. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t need people pitying her and making her more miserable than she already was.

Thoughts kept swirling inside Praveena’s brain as she gazed at the ceiling fan without really seeing it.

It bothered her that she hadn’t told her mother how much she mattered to her. She couldn’t manage say it, despite feeling it. She loved her mother more than anything else in the world. Not just because she was her mother, but because she was the only person who would listen to her speak — even if Praveena was boring her, she had never shown any signs of avoiding her. For Praveena, her mother was her first and only friend. Letting her go would be more difficult than anyone could ever imagine.

Even now, she couldn’t think of her mother as another person, she felt like it was a part of herself that was dying with numbing pain in the body and heart…

———–

Praveena looked at the large wall clock facing her. It was seven o’clock. She began to get ready for school; she had a lot to concentrate on today.

Her mother sat on the couch as she entered the living room. “Breakfast, dear?” she asked. That was new, Praveena realized. Her mother never asked her if she wanted any breakfast; she’d always eat at school. Maybe Geetha knew what was coming.

“No, Ma. I’m not hungry.”

Geetha smiled at her, a little too knowingly.

Her father walked right in from his morning walk, “I’m starving!” he exclaimed to the room at large, rubbing his stomach. Geetha smiled and made to rise from the couch. “Don’t bother,” he added waving at her, “I’ll get it.” and he walked right past the couch and stopped to look at Praveena who stood watching. “How about you?”

Praveena shook her head. “Not hungry. I’m off. Bye.” Kamal waved her goodbye and went inside to get his breakfast. Praveena waved at her mother and added, “Take care, Ma”.

Geetha smiled as she waved, “I will.”

National Blog Posting Month – Day 9