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

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 Ten: The Loss

Praveena was interrupted in Andrew’s class the next afternoon. The principal wanted to meet her. Annoyed and a little curious at the same time, she made her way as slow as possible, to the principal’s room.

Again, as she passed Ms Marrie’s room, she saw her reading. Their eyes locked, and Praveena sped up. When she reached the principal’s office, she knocked once and was asked to enter.

As soon as she entered, Principal Vanitha spoke. “You’re mother’s ill. Your father is coming to get you. Wait”. The principal was careful never to betray emotion in her tone — not that she felt any. In her five years as the principal, she had seen countless students and parents who fell ill and then recovered. It was just another day for her.

Not for Praveena though. She didn’t know what to say or do. She stood stunned, staring at the principal like she’d thrown a dumbbell at her face.

“Wait outside,” the principal snapped and waved her away. Praveena turned, her feet carrying her outside the office. The look on her face was fixed and her face had become rather white.

She didn’t have to wait long though. After about ten minutes of confused wondering, the school security guard escorted her father to her. Too scared to utter a single word, Praveena followed her father. The huge lump in her chest was growing with every step she took.

A tough twenty-minute ride later, Kamal was rushing inside a building with a huge banner: The National Cancer Institute. Praveena quickened her strides. She barely noticed the people she passed as she followed her father. She had never been in here before; her parents had always visited this place while she was in school. Nurses rushed to and fro without paying the slightest attention to anyone else. A few patients in wheelchairs were on the move continuously. Praveena almost knocked into an old bald man. “I’m sorry” she hastily whispered, rushing. Her mouth had gone dry. The building seemed to stretch a long way.

In the farthest corner of a long corridor, Kamal stopped in front of a door with a large number seven embedded on it. Praveena rushed to him. Signaling her to be quiet, Kamal opened the door and went inside.

Praveena peeped in and saw her mother. The pillows on either side of her made her appear much thinner than she was. She had tubes connecting to her wrist and her nostrils. The overwhelming scent of medicine and the sight of her mother made Praveena dizzy. She swayed on the spot. Kamal was by her side in an instant. “She’s got Jaundice” he whispered to her.

She didn’t need her father to explain what that meant. Wikipedia and countless other online magazines had given her all the information she needed. Since Geetha’s diagnosis, Praveena had scoured the Internet for anything she could find about the ailment that would take her mother away from her.

Jaundice was the final sign that Death was approaching. Fast.

The thought made Praveena shiver. She could hear her heart beating fast as if it wanted to get away from the cage it was imprisoned.

Praveena sat in a chair away from the bed, staring at the limp and unrecognizable figure on the bed. How could this happen to her? Why did it happen? She couldn’t think straight and she couldn’t cry. Her mind wailed like an injured dog, but no tears fell from her eyes. She just sat and stared.

Praveena stayed with her mother at the hospital. Geetha has stopped eating and drinking, her skin became a pale yellow, and the look of it sent a chill of dread through Praveena’s spine.

Praveena wanted to hear her mother’s voice, she longed to hear from her mother that everything would be alright. Praveena was ready to believe even in the impossible, if it came from her mother. But she knew it wouldn’t happen.

Her mother was leaving her and she had to watch, heartbroken and helpless.

Geetha died on Friday.

Praveena had just brought a bunch of tulips into Geetha’s room. For the two days she was in the hospital, Praveena bought fresh flowers to put in the vase next to the bed. Tulips were Geetha’s favourite.
Whenever Praveena walked by the bed to place the flowers in the vase, Geetha would follow her with her eyes and watch in silence, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

On Friday morning, Praveena placed the flowers and looked eagerly at her mother’s reaction, only to find her face turned towards the vase, eyes closed.

Perplexed, Praveena went over to her father, who sat in the chair going through some medical files.

“Pa?” she asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” Kamal responded without looking up. He hadn’t slept well in two days and it showed in his eyes; they were sunken and red. His blue shirt was creased beyond any repair that an iron could do, and his soul was hurt more than he let show.

“Why is Ma still asleep?”

Kamal detected the fear in her voice. He stood and walked up to the bed in one swift motion. He took Geetha’s wrist with shaking hands.

With a shocked expression on his face he backed away from the bed in a rush. Geetha’s hand limply fell on to the bed.

He rushed outside, stumbling in the doorway, to get the doctor. Praveena had backed into the wall, clutching the cold stone for warmth. Kamal was back within the minute accompanied by the doctor. The doctor examined Geetha and delivered the blow.

Praveena stood stunned and watched in horrified silence as her father and everyone else around her reacted feverishly. It made no sense to her, it was all in a rushed blur. She didn’t need the doctor to confirm her fear; Kamal’s look had done that already.
Praveena understood.

Her mother had left her life.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 11

Chapter Nine: Useless Efforts

Praveena’s school life progressed with her making little progress. Days were long and nights longer. She witnessed her mother slowly walking up the path towards Death, but she neither said nor did anything to comfort her mother. She was worried though — so worried. She tried, day after day, to prepare herself to face what she must, but it wasn’t easy.

She cried a lot. Her eyes became puffy and dark circles began to form around them. It became a part of her appearance. She began neglecting herself trying to focus instead, on the pressing school work that was gnawing on the thin line that connected her with her mother. They were talking less and less.

Geetha hardly spoke nowadays, speaking only when it was necessary or only when Praveena came up to her.

One Saturday afternoon, Praveena came up to her parents’ room to sit with Geetha. Geetha’s eyes lit up when she saw her daughter standing by the door, holding lunch in a tray. She gestured her to sit by her side. Praveena did.

“Hi, Ma” she smiled brightly, a false smile which Geetha was quick to notice. Geetha said nothing but smiled in response. Praveena saw that Geetha struggled to raise her hand. She had lost so much of weight; her eyes were sunken; her lips dry and parched, and her now bald head seemed fragile. Only her eyes stood bright against the yellowish skin that stretched across her face.

When she spoke, her voice was barely audible and her breath came out in wheezes. Praveena tried hard not to panic. She wanted to scream for help and kneel by her mother, pleading and weeping not to leave her behind. ‘What’s the use?’ Her inner voice asked. ‘That won’t make her stay,’ the second voice comforted her. And Praveena, for once, decided to listen to her inner voices and remain sane. She couldn’t shake off the feeling though. She thought she’d feel better if she spoke of her fears, even though she knew it wouldn’t help her get through this phase of sadness and loneliness.

Geetha watched her, helpless but understanding the trauma Praveena went through. They sat watching each other in silence. A silence that echoed so loud in Praveena’s ears that she could bear it no more. She broke the silence.

“Have your lunch, Ma. Come on,” she stood and made to help Geetha sit up, but she waved her hand.

“I don’t feel hungry,” she managed to say, her hand falling limply to her side.

“Shall I make some juice at least?” fear welled up inside Praveena. Geetha shook her head, and heaved a sigh.

Geetha turned away from her daughter and while she suffered from the pain untold, Praveena watched in silence, suffering in her own way.

It was the recess time on Monday. Praveena sat in the last bench eating alone. She was lost in her own thoughts and didn’t notice Priya come up to her. She was a pretty face with dark shoulder-length hair that she wore in a braid. Having lost interest in long-braided hairdos, Praveena had always wondered how Priya and the other long-haired girls ever managed to maintain their hair with so much care. Despite showing no interest in nurturing her hair, Praveena’s long pixie was messy and healthy.

Sitting next to her, Priya asked, “Hey you ok?”

Surprised, Praveena turned round and managed a courteous smile, “Yep, I’m fine.” she shrugged.

“Oh,” Priya faltered, not knowing what to say. She remained silent.

It didn’t bother Praveena and she continued her lunch.

Feeling awkward with the silence that stretched between them, Priya asked, “How come you don’t talk much?” It wasn’t just a question to keep the conversation ticking, it was an earnest and curious question.

“I talk.” Parvenu declared surprised. “you know,” she shrugged, “when I have something important to say.”

“Oh, ok.”

Silence.

“Oh well, I’ll leave you to your lunch then,” Priya rushed the words, as if she wanted to get away. “See you.”

“Ya, see you…” Praveena’s voice trailed away.

Priya left as fast as she could. She joined another group and was soon chattering away amidst loud laughter.

Praveena watched them, munching on.

‘They have problems too, you know’ it was her inner voice. It had come up again after a day-long absence.

‘Maybe… but — ‘

‘You’re so full of self-pity. It’s not good.’ her inner voice cut her short. ‘Listen to me, you should snap out of it.’

‘I know, I can see that,’ Praveena thought, ‘but it isn’t easy.’

‘Yes, I know. Make an effort at least,’ her inner voice didn’t sound as stern as it used to. It was sympathetic and firm.

‘Oh ok, I will.’

National Blog Posting Month – Day 10

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