25

Woke up with a wonderful feeling yesterday that lingered till my last waking moment before I hit the bed. Mom had gone out to meet her group of friends at Vaishali early morning, and it was only after she got back and rang the bell did I wake up from my slumber. I quickly put on my specs and opened the door for her. she stepped in. I turned around and went into my parents room and lied down next to my father. Mom came and sat next to him on the other side. I raised both my hands and stretched them out, one at each of them, and wished them –

‘Happy 25th Anniversary!’

Both smiled at me and then at each other very sweetly. Mom immediately got out of the bed. I got pissed off.

‘Bas na ga jara… kiti uthlya uthlya kat kat karte?’ (Sit for a while, no! why do you have to hurry into your chores right away?)

‘Tujha Ajja utarnar nahiye warun, swaypak karayala… baghu de mala kay kay karayachaye te!’ (Your grandfather is not going to descend from the heavens to make food! Lemme go and see what to do…)

She walked out of the room before I could further try to persuade her to laze around a little more.

‘Ashi kay arre hi!’ I said to Dad. (Why is she like this?) dad just raised his hand and let it fall right back onto the bed. I gave him a bear hug. Felt like childhood, when I used to get up and out of my bed, and come and sleep with Dad again for a while, every Sunday. Mom came into the bedroom and started complaining, completing the childhood memory.

‘Uth na ata bande, kay challaye?’ (Come on now, get up dearest! Whats going on?)

‘You should be the one hugging him! But since you are not, I am!’ I teased my mom. That finally did the trick and Mom sat down on the bed, laughing. Dad uttered his first words of the day –

‘Chal we’ll celebrate Lazy Day!’

‘Yay!’ I said.

‘Nandu arre jara aajchya divashi tari uth lavkar!’ (Nandu at least get up early today !)

Dad just nodded ‘no’ sleepily. And Mom agreed. Moither was being very easy to convince and coax today! Maybe she too didn’t want to actually cook food today or anything. I seized the opportunity.

‘Ok that’s it! The head of the family has declared it to be a Lazy Day, and so shall it be! I’ll go get eggs and bread. We’ll have nice omelet sandwiches for brunch!’

‘With cheesh!’ Dad added, his eyes still closed.

‘Okies! With cheesh!’ I said, mimicking Dad. About a couple of hours later we were all enjoying hot omelet sandwiches at our dining table.

‘What yaar! Twnty-five years with the same woman!’ Dad said, eyeing Mom out of the corner of his eye. ‘Don’t you think I should upgrade?’ he asked me.

‘Go and ask barni!’ I said. ‘Barni’ is a nick name we had all given to one of Dad’s very old college friends – Dad had been her romantic interest back in those days. They happened to have met recently at some wedding and were back in touch now.

‘Tereko 25 din bhi she legi na, toh main khud khushi khushi tereko talaq degi!’ Mom announced. (If she can tolerate you even for 25 days, I wil happily divorce you and step out of your way!)

‘No, but you know why I never remember our anniversary, or how many years it has been?’ Dad asked me genuinely. ‘Its because I never had to count…’

I put the sandwich in my hand down in my plate and clapped. ‘Brownie point, Mr Belvalkar!’ I said. Mom leaned in and gave Dad a hug. She served herself another couple of bread slices and went about making her second sandwich, when suddenly she looked at Dad and said –

‘Aila Nandu! Pacchis saal ke baad fir se omelet sandwich yaar!’ (Hey Nandu! Omelet sandwiches again, after 25 years!) And what followed was a Kodak moment. Dad, who is usually quite subtle about his emotions, actually high-fived Mom! And his face was lit up with the happiest smiles I had ever seen on that face, that reflected in his eyes. I looked at the two of them, having their moment, and smiled, satisfied and immensely happy. I wanted to ask Mom what she meant, but I didn’t. It was clear from their expressions that it was a very dear memory and probably also a top secret! And I wished to keep it that way… I continued to devour my sandwich and let them have their moment. Soon brunch was over and Dad had dressed up and was ready to leave.

‘Arre wait! What about dinner?’ I asked Dad just as he was about to step out.

‘If the car arrives, we go to Mainland China… so pray the car arrives!’ Dad said, and pulled the door shut. Me and mom eagerly prayed out new car arrive in the evening, and arrive it did. to complete a perfect day, we went and dined at Mom’s favorite restaurant and had a nice time together, just the three of us after a long long time. I didn’t attend to any friends that day, Dad canceled his Harmonica batches in the evening, and Mom actually asked me to give her a facial at home! – which is so so so unlike her!

We had one of the loveliest dinners we had had in a long time. Mom and Dad were both elated and in a world of their own. I felt a little like an outside, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I felt very happy for the two of them. And I know I am their daughter, but I still silently blessed the two of them in my mind and in my heart. When our drinks arrived we all raised a toast to ‘another twenty-five years of togetherness’… and it was perfect. The last images in my mind before I went to bed that night were of mother waiting for Dad to return in the evening. There was something very different in her eyes, on her face that day. And it was beautiful.

If in another twenty-five years, I can be even half as happy with my husband as Mom and Dad are with each other, I will consider myself blessed. God bless them.

THE WAIT WAS OVER

I looked at the sky as I stepped out of the hospital. It was a bright blue colour. Absolutely cloudless. I smiled.

The first thing I saw ahead of me was a mother playing with a small kid in a pram. The kid had a rattle in his hand and was shaking it wildly. He got his mother on the head with his rattle a couple of times, but she seemed not to mind it. I walked over to mother and child and got down on my knees. I ruffled the kid’s hair and he looked at me. I smiled, and the baby chuckled and let out a delighted squeal.

I was thrilled and made to pick up the baby.

‘He must really like you,’ the mother said. ‘He is not so good with strangers.’

I smiled at the mother and looked back at the baby. His eyes were a sparkling blue. Ice blue. Ocean blue. Baby blue.

‘He is adorable,’ I said as I handed him back to the mother. She took him and put him back in the pram. I was too elated to say anything. I just smiled at her and started walking back to my car.

I got in and started driving towards our home.

I stopped at a crossing as the signal turned red. I glanced around me. my eyes fell upon a small girl sitting in the car next to mine. She must have been about two years old. She was wearing a white coloured frock. It had a lemon yellow ribbon around the waist and beautiful big balloon sleeves. She had a doll seated in her lap and was busy combing her hair. She happened to look at me. I smiled at her. She turned pink in her cheeks and looked away. She made a straight dive for her mummy’s tummy. The mother jumped in her seat and looked at her daughter. Then she looked at me. I smiled at her. she smiled back.

The signal turned green, and we were on the roll again.

I stopped by a toy shop, just a few minutes before our home. I parked the car and went inside.

The spirit of the place gripped me and I literally felt the ‘kid-in-a-candy-store’ feeling. I looked at all the bright coloured soft toys, play stations, dolls, teddy-bears, stuffed puppies and kittens that looked so amiable I felt like picking them all up and stuffing them into my car. I looked at the fur pillows, at the jigsaw puzzles, at the play-houses. The shop was almost empty, except a few kids and their parents. Suddenly I felt this compulsive need to go talk to each of the women and befriend them… I felt like one of them.

I picked up a huge life-size koala bear. The girl at the counter helped me carry it back to my car and get it in. just as I was about to thank her and get in myself my phone buzzed. It was a message.

‘wer r u? cnt wait. come coon.’

I smiled. I got in the car and drove straight home.

Just as I entered our front gate, I saw Siddharth come out of the bungalow. His face was tensed. I purposely took my own sweet time to park the car. Siddharth’s eyes caught the back seat till then. I could see his face go from tensed to confused as he tried to figure out what it was that was occupying the back seat top to floor. Finally I turned the car off and got out. I opened the rear door and set about trying to pull the koala bear out. Siddharth looked upon. Just as he saw the furry arm of the toy emerge out of the door, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards himself. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. I could feel his heart beat against mine. He pulled me away. I was smiling ear to ear, too overwhelmed to say anything. My eyes welled up with tears. He looked at me, into my eyes.

He put a hand on my tummy.

He raised his eyebrows.

I blinked.

The tears rolled down my cheeks.

I smiled, blushing ever so slightly.

And the next minute, Siddharth had scooped me off the ground and was turning round and round in circles.

When he finally put me down on the ground and helped me remove the koala bear from the car, we walked back into the house, me holding the bear by its tummy, Siddharth holding me in his arms. My head tipped onto his shoulders, as his hand came down and rested on my tummy. I put my hand on his hand and he grabbed it.

The wait was over.

THE GLINT IN HIS EYES

‘Collect your pictures in half an hour,’ the lady who had just taken my picture told me.

‘I hope there is no confusion,’ I said.

‘Yes ma’am; ten stamp-size copies and ten passport-size copies,’ the lady repeated my order.

‘Right!’ I said and smiled. She smiled back. I stepped out of the studio and walked down the stairs. I came out of the complex and took a deep breath. I looked at my watch. I had come quite a long way from my house to go back and come in the evening to pick up my photographs. Besides I could do with getting them early. I decided to spend some time in the Crossword outlet across the street while I waited for my pictures to be developed.

I crossed the street and entered the store. The blast of the cool AC-air felt like a blessing, with temperatures hitting 38 degrees. I deposited my hand bag at the counter and took the coupon. Stuffing it into my pant-pocket, I started walking towards the ‘New Arrival’ section.

Visiting book stores somehow leaves me feeling rejuvenated. Every time I look at the stacks after stacks of books, piled ceiling to floor, I can’t help but contemplate over the treasure that might be hidden in those millions and millions of pages. There could be stuff out there that could change my life forever, make me a believer of something, make me hate something; make me long for something… anything. The power of words. Words, words, words.

That’s probably why I always like to go to bookstores alone. It makes me feel great. Nothing makes me feel as great as after a visit to a bookstore.

And we come there to choose one out of thousands and thousands of books...

I read somewhere that its not we who choose; the book chooses its reader. It should be true. I like to try new authors. Somewhere I believe it’s our responsibility to give them a chance. Encourage them, buy their books; atleast give them a try. We spend so much money on so many things. It’s ridiculous that we should think and debate before spending a few bucks on a book, just because it’s not by Jeffery Archer or Agatha Christie or Stephen Hawking or Paulo Coelho. And even though it sometimes boomerangs, it’s ok. Atleast for me. I still keep trying new books. I read them and I pass them on among my friends... And just as the book chooses its reader, it also chooses when the reader is to read it. I could put aside atleast five books right now from the ones I have that I haven’t read at all, though I bought them a long long time ago. For whatever reason, they have been left untouched. A few days back, one of my friends borrowed one of these books from me, and she really loved it. And she was also very surprised I hadn’t read such a nice book. Now I have been given the ultimatum: Book padho, ya mujhe bhul jao! (Read the book or you can forget about our friendship!) Anyways…

I went from the ‘New Arrivals’ section to the ‘Indian Fiction’ section. One after the other, I read the titles and names of authors. Once in a few names, a name would make me pull the book out of the stack and look at its cover, then look at its back and then the first few pages. I read ‘praise for the author’ and wondered exactly how many people actually meant what they said. I put the book back in its place. Sometimes I put it elsewhere. I wondered who’d be the next to pick it up. After going through a number of books, I settled for just one (very uncharacteristic of me). I put it in the shopping-bag I got at the door and turned around. I went to the billing counter. The man took the book from the shopping-bag and kept the bag on a pile of several other shopping-bags. I drummed my fingers on the counter.

‘Two-fifty, ma’am.’

I patted my pockets and realised I’d left my wallet in my bag.

‘I’ll just go get my wallet,’ I said and left the queue. And just as I turned around, I saw a lady enter the store with a small boy. He was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt with some abstract design printed in pink. His hair was an unusual reddish-brown colour. His feet were done in bright colored sports shoes. Within fraction of a second as mother and son entered the store, the boy’s eyes lit up. They grew big and wide and I saw a glint in his eyes. They were shining bright. The gleam was unmistakable. And even before the mother had a chance to say anything, the boy freed his hand from the mother’s grasp and ran inside the store, towards the kids section. My eyes followed him. He ran straight to the end of the store and stopped in front of the books section. I smiled and went back to the billing counter. I paid for my book, picked up my hand bag from the counter. Just as I was about to step out of the store, I turned around one more time to look at the boy. He was deeply engrossed in reading a book. My smile grew wider. I walked back inside and walked up to that boy. I got down and sat on my knees. I ruffled his hair (a habit I have. I always ruffle kid’s hair. Especially boys’). He looked up from his book, a bit confused. I smiled. He smiled back, but a little cautious.

‘You like reading?’ I said. He nodded. I reached inside my bag and pulled out an old copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’. I have a habit of carrying some kind of a book or novel with me when I go out. I opened the book and took the bookmark out; a typical sun-sign type. I held it out to him. He looked at it, then looked at his mother, who had now come and stood behind me. She nodded. The boy’s face lit-up with a big smile, and the glint was back in his eyes. He took the bookmark from my hand and looked at it.

‘Even my sun-sign is Sagittarius,’ he said and smiled.

I laughed. ‘Do you know what a sun-sign is?’ I asked. He thought for a moment, then counter-questioned me; ‘Do you know what it is?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Then why do you ask?’ he said.

‘Bhaskar! What happened to your manners?’ his mother scolded him as she walked over to him. The boy looked down at his feet.

‘No no! Please!’ I said. I ruffled his hair again. He looked up at me and smiled as I got up. I turned toward the mother.

‘I am so happy you brought him here instead of taking him to a toy-store,’ I said.

‘Oh he loves reading,’ the mother said. ‘I don’t like reading myself much, but I always encourage him to buy books. I guess it’s come to him from his grandfather.’

‘That’s really great,’ I said. I turned to look at him. ‘Bye Bhaskar!’ I said. Mother and son both waved at me as I finally walked out of the store. I then walked down to the studio and picked up my pictures which were now ready and drove back home.

For the rest of the day, my mind went back again and again to the little boy I had seen in the bookstore. I just couldn’t put his face out of my mind. The glint I saw in his eyes… It was pure and innocent. It was strong and full of hope, curiosity, happiness and a… a kind of positivenness that was so alluring... I was to meet my Professor in an hour regarding a project I was working on. I was sitting in his office. The kaka (peon) told me he’d take another fifteen minutes to come back from his meeting. Automatically my hand reached inside my bag and I pulled the copy of Wuthering Heights out. I shuffled through the pages and suddenly realised I had given the small boy my bookmark. I smiled as his face, his eyes popped up in my mind again; and instantly my face lit-up with a smile too. I opened the first page of the book and started reading it all-over again… glad he happened to me.

MIRTH

I looked at the trees, the lawn, the grass and the sky. I kept staring out in the distance. Above the sound of the rain, I could hear my mom fry pakoras in the kitchen, the sizzle louder with every batch of pakoras as the oil got hotter and hotter. The first rain of the year. A proper downpour. The kind that wets every millimeter of you within seconds. Suddenly a strong wind splashed a few drops of water on my face. I blinked and drew a deep breath. I turned around and looked inside our house from the verandah. I could see dad sitting in the bean bag, pretending to read the newspaper, but actually fast asleep. I made sure mom was still in the kitchen, listening to the old Marathi songs playing on the radio. I slipped my feet into my slippers and quietly stepped out of the house.

I walked slowly and heavily on the mud path that was carved out around our garden. I stopped where it was cut to enter into the garden. I looked at my feet, at the slippers and then at the grass. I removed my slippers and stepped onto the grass. I walked slowly as I felt the grass beneath my feet. By now my clothes were clinging to me. I was drenched in the first rain of the year.

I looked up at the sky. It was a uniform grey. Spotless. Plain. But not dull in any way. I stared at the sky, unblinking. I felt the drops of rain, sharp as razor; hit my face, my eyes, my cheeks. I stood there, looking at the sky, my hands beside me.

Somewhere I could hear someone calling out to me. I ignored.

I lifted my hand and ran it over my face. Slowly I could feel this energy build up in me. My breathing grew stronger, heavier. I had this mad surge to shout at the top of my voice. No I was not mad or angry at anything or anybody. Sometimes you don’t have to be mad at or angry at something or somebody to feel like doing something so crazy. Nature drive’s you mad.

I opened my mouth and let out a loud cry. A long loud cry.

Suddenly everyone was out of their houses. They were all staring at me, wondering if I had lost my mind. Mom was standing in the verandah of our house with dad, clutching each-other’s hands. I looked at them. I looked at the people who were staring at me. I walked out of our garden onto the street and looked up at the sky again. I kneeled down and spread my arms wide apart and screamed again.

What joy!

What liberation!

I stopped screaming. My head was still tilted upwards. I drew my hands close and bent my head. I placed my hands on my laps and hung my head. I looked up at mom and dad again. And at the people who were still staring at me. And I smiled as I saw few of them were running towards me, their arms stretched out, and their mouths wide open as they joined me in my mirth and screamed.