Chapter 67

63. A Matter Of Time

‘Bhai, there used to be one more picture here,’ Prasanna said, drawing Nishit’s attention.

It was a Saturday afternoon and she was visiting her brother’s place. They cooked together and had lunch while talking about various things. She had asked after his health, inquired about his career taking an interest in his life;  In short, taking Kirti’s advice to heart, she was just trying to be more present in his life. She had understood that the gap of years between them could not be erased; he was bound to see her as a child especially when she had acted like one petulant, attention-seeking, and pampered kid over the years.

Kirti had said, ‘Just because your brother is the elder sibling, it isn’t fair to assume he is unfeeling, indefatigable, or invincible when he is not. Maybe, he’s just learned to mask his feelings. The elder child is always forced to grow up faster and wear the shoes that the adults are so itching to share with them. It’s not like he doesn’t feel lonely, insecure, or low. Maybe he isn’t given space to express his feelings.’

Prasanna knew she could never become her brother’s confidante, but she was hoping that she would be by his side when he was down and lonely. After all, with Mom and Dad, still too busy with their life, they had only one another. 

‘Which photo?’ Nishit asked, standing behind her. 

‘From your Sport’s Day, I think. The one with Kirti and a few others. It was such a lovely picture. Did you take it down?’  

She had come to collect a board game from his study table’s drawer when the photo line over the desk had caught her attention. She was always in awe of this section - his inventiveness; of how tastefully he had assembled and arranged the pictures. Some were sepia-colored shared memories of their childhood, some memories were his alone where she was an outsider who could only guess what the moment meant to him. 

While deciding on his study room, he had chosen the room that was the most well lit, the study table being the focal point of the light. And yet, this string of photographs was subtly placed - away from light, and passers-by scrutiny - just like personal memories ought to be.

She turned her chair to face her brother. The album string had his rapt attention.

‘It was here till yesterday,’ He frowned, turning to meet her eyes. ‘Did it fall?’ He bent over the table and then under, to look for it. Then, pushed away the books piled up on his table; later flipped through them.

‘It was here until last evening.’

‘Must have fallen. You’ll find it, Bhai.’

‘I just saw over, didn’t you see? It isn’t there. Should I pull the table?’ He looked at her undecidedly.

‘When the maid comes tomorrow, ask her. She might have misplaced it.’ Since he kept looking at her, she wheeled back her chair to allow him to pull the table, and look for the photograph.

‘It isn’t here!’ He said, disappointed, and then added decidedly, ‘It is her doing!’

‘Whose doing?’

‘Ms.Lokhande!...My neighbor,’ he added for his sister’s benefit. 

‘She is always self-inviting herself over to my place,’ he spilled. Before Prasanna could tease him about having an admirer, he continued, ‘Yesterday, she came to discuss some market issues. I went to take a call, she wandered off to the study room. Without my permission! Can you believe it?! After taking care of my call, I followed her, and saw she was impertinent enough to poke around my belongings.’

‘Is she for real? Does she have no sense of privacy? Snoopy woman!’

‘Oh, you should see her Prasanna. Any piece of earth she walks on, she believes that it has by default become hers. But that isn’t the problem. What was weird was that when she looks at one of the pictures, she pales. And asks me, ‘Is this you?’ while lightly touching the edge of it.’

‘The Sports Day Picture?’

‘No, this one,’ Nishit pointed to a single picture of him taken back in the verdant green of his farmhouse. ‘I confirmed and she started looking at me strangely. Then she asked me for a glass of water and I had to oblige. But while I was leaving, I turned to look at her and her eyes were fixed on the now missing picture. You think she could have stolen the picture?’

It felt good to share it with someone. The whole incident had felt bizarre to him.

Prasanna seemed to share his opinion. ‘She sounds a bizzaro.’

‘Should I go and ask her if she has taken the picture?’

‘No! We don’t know for sure. What will you ask her? No. First, at least make sure that it isn’t the maid who has misplaced it.’

XxxX

‘Be still, Radha,’ Kirti admonished, pulling the fidgeting girl close up to her.

‘No, no not this,’ The girl disagreed with Kirti’s choice of hairstyle for her, ‘Make me a pony. Here,’ She said, tapping a specific place on her head. ‘These clips put it on my head.’ She opened her palms to show the glittery hair ornaments she had chosen for herself. ‘No oil, noooo,’ she began shaking her shoulders vehemently. 

‘If you keep this up, I will not allow you to go out  to play.’ Kirti threatened, massaging the kid’s head with coconut oil, then proceeding to braid her hair into a slick and tight ponytail. 

So that Radha did not think that none of her words had been paid heed to, Kirti picked up the tic tac hairpins that Radha was so fond of and slipped them on each side of the back of her head.

Turning around the sullen child, she dabbed some fragrant talcum powder on her plump cheeks, purposely blowing a dust storm in the process to make Radha laugh, but the stubborn kid refused to share even the tiniest of her smiles.

‘What are you angry about, Matilda, dear? We established this earlier itself, didn’t we? Saturday is a hair oiling day.’

‘I am no Matida. Matilda is kitty’s name,’ The girl was quick to correct Kirti.

‘But right now you’re being grumpy like her.’

‘Gumpy? What is gumpy?’ She asked with a frown. Even though Radha was late to start her studies, she had a penchant for picking on new words and curious enough to harry one for the meaning of those words.

‘Grumpy is,’ Kirti chewed her lips, keeping away the comb and talcum box. ‘Being angry tempered. Refusing to smile and wrinkling one’s nose in displeasure. Just like you,’ Kirti pinched Radha’s nose. It earned her a grimace but soon enough it turned into a lovely smile. 

‘Chalo, now go and play. I have to make tea.' Radha nodded her head and ran off while Kirti marched towards the kitchen. A few minutes later she was pouring tea for Buta and herself, after having served the Ojhas, when Ammaji appeared in the kitchen.

‘Where are you going?’ She asked, pointedly, on seeing Kirti carry two cups out of the kitchen.

‘Going to give tea to Buta,’ Kirti replied, stopping at the threshold of the kitchen and turning to face the older woman.

‘No need. Give it to me. I will carry it to him.’

Pursing her lips, Kirti handed her the cup. ‘I wish to go to the terrace and sip my tea there. May I, Ammaji?’ She asked, her tone profusely sweet and polite.

Ammaji, reading the mockery in Kirti’s eyes, said, ‘Go. I am not a woman who stops another from doing their heart’s wish. God is witness to the fact that I have never interfered in anyone’s life. Never have I minded other people's way of living.’ She started. ‘But I have my limitations too. I have to work according to society. I have seen more of society and men and women. I have seen people compromise their morals in the face of temptations…’

Temptations!?! Kirti thought incredulously. Buta was supposed to be a temptation for her?! Ammaji must have a really low opinion of me! Well, her eldest daughter-in-law ran away with a younger shoe dealer.

‘He addresses me as Didi, Ammaji! I think of him as my little brother,’ she was loath to explain herself. ‘I know what happened with Sudha has soured you but I am no Sudha,' She said, cutting to the chase. ‘Ammaji, I respect you and I don't talk back because of that. But if you think you will slander my name and I will keep quiet, that isn’t happening. I respect you, yes but I do demand some basic respect in return.’ She added.

‘Do not create situations that actually force me to think about running away.’ She was done taking shit from this woman!

Before Ammaji could start another of her rants, Kirti walked away.

Narrow-minded woman! She fumed, climbing up the stairs to the terrace. Filthy mind! 

If she were to run away, she wouldn't choose Buta. If barely legal children as fleeing partners were in the offer, she would pick Radha over Buta. She liked Buta. But she loved Radha! So it would do Ammaji some good to cherish her granddaughter or she would whisk her away.

Her life would have been nondescript but conflict-free at the Ojha house if not for Ammaji.

With each passing day, it was getting difficult for Kirti to live with Ammaji, especially once Kirti had begun to see through her mean-spirited and underhanded ways. 

No matter how infuriating Ammaji's actions and words had been, Kirti had initially kept her calm.

When Ammaji commented on her way of dressing, she let it be. 

She turned a deaf ear to the nagging about her lack of culinary skills. 

She turned a blind eye to the way Ammaji was using her to pay their house bills. How the older woman would tag along to the market with her and after buying a dozen of articles, would remember having forgotten the purse. She would stop ferrywalas and buy saris, then claim to have no change thereby forcing Kirti to pay. The other day, she had claimed to be having a severe body ache and said she could no longer go on. Then went on to ask, 'What was that place you took your grandmother to?' Her pain vanished the moment Kirti booked a costly appointment at a naturopathy center.

Ideally, Kirti would not have minded. In her eyes, people and relations were more important than money. But, her financial situation was not the best at the moment. She was saving up for the future, cutting down on her own needs. Dadi’s funds were not inexhaustible, after all. It was not like she was not contributing to the household. It was her paying for the ration. If she were staying anywhere else, she would have to pay rent so buying the ration, at least eased her conscience. In fact, when she had seen that the gully kids were not letting Radha use their bicycle, she had even bought one for her. But Ammaji’s method of twisting her arm into paying for things had started getting on her nerves.

She had been silently bearing being ill-used by the Ojhas as she worked round the clock, catering to their needs reminding herself that she had used their son too for her own means. But lately, that line of thought had started becoming feeble, and her marriage and this arrangement were becoming a source of resentment to her.

Her dam of patience broke the day Ammaji made some comments about her spending time with Buta. The woman did not think twice before maligning her character. It had started with off remarks like No need to go to the terrace when he’s up; If he needs something, tell me and I will look into it. Then had escalated into not allowing her in the same room as the boy. She was no fool to not read between the lines.

At first, Kirti did not pay any heed. 

She sympathized with the woman. A wife so suppressed by her husband, she was bound to take out that bitterness on others. Even the sons did nothing to improve her life as they should have. Perhaps spewing venom was her way to feel self-important in her patriarchal world.

Kirti believed in living peacefully and letting others live. But her calmness must have been misunderstood as her weakness. 

She remembered a parable from her childhood. A snake who after being enlightened by an ascetic had given up on slithering on people. People mistaking his goodness as his fragility threw pebbles at him. The snake bore it silently. Then people began beating him with long sticks from a distance. When the snake did not respond or bite back, people were emboldened picking it up from its tail and swinging it about in the air before lashing it on a rock, almost killing it. 

Her equation with Ammaji could be summarised with the story. She had taken all her injustices lying low and had been mistaken as an enfeebled snake. But no more of it. What had the ascetic advised the almost dead snake on his second visit? 

‘The venom in you, I told you not to use it to harm people. I never asked you not to use it to protect yourself. What you’ve done is foolish! One should not ignore one’s predisposition and gifts. To protect oneself from bullying is your own duty.’

If Ammaji was thinking that with her grandmother asleep in hospital and her brother away, Kirti was defenseless and all alone, she couldn’t be farther from the truth.

If I possess the inherent goodness of my father, then I must also have inherited my mother’s ability to wound others! She seethed.

She was leaning against the parapet when an approaching footfall alerted her. She turned away, looking over the wall into the front courtyard of the house. Mr.Ojha’s friend made it a habit of dropping in with the mohalla’s tales. He was now seated on a knitted chair sipping tea. Mr.Ojha and he sat for hours talking about the length of the skirts of the daughters of the neighborhood and the wandering ways of the daughters-in-law on the pretext of discussing important issues. 

Kirti had been both appalled and disgusted the first time she had listened in on their conversation. And Mr.Ojha had the gall to attempt to include her in the conversation!

Kirti had seen dozens of memes on ‘aunties’ of mohallas but no one mentioned these uncles - these aged men - who sat and passed judgments on others’ children and wives.

‘Didi!’ He came to stand next to her.

‘Buta, hello,’ she greeted him affectionately.

‘You have no problem, right? It’s okay if you don’t want...lest Ammaji sees…’ He struggled with his speech.

‘No!’ She sputtered, embarrassingly. She was hoping he wouldn’t notice but Ammaji being so obvious about it, only a fool would not. And Buta was wise beyond his age.

‘Thank God!’ He exclaimed. ‘I thought you were going to shun my company. I swear Di, I have no ill notions for you.’

‘Please Buta, do not embarrass me with this apology. Ammaji… is I don’t know..’ She could not betray Mayank by badmouthing his mother in front of someone else. ‘She’s a bit old-fashioned. Please don’t mind her.’  What she wanted to say instead was, Please don’t leave for this reason. Radha and I feel safe and happy when you’re around. ‘I apologize on her behalf.’

‘Arre Didi. I am like thathhera's cat. Babel like these cannot scare me away.’ 

'Huh?' She uttered confused.

‘Thh se Thathhera, you don’t know Didi? It’s a proper caste in India. The literal translation would be a brasier - brass worker or a coppersmith. A cat whose master is always going around tinkering with wood and brass, and creating a hubbub the entire day; can awful sounds be anymore a threat to the cat?’

‘How do you know so many Lokoktiyaans - Hindi proverbs - and stories, Buta?’

He shrugged. ‘I just listen and pay attention. Stories write themselves in my head.’

‘Didi, Ammaji says you’re engaged to the son of the house. Is it true?’

‘It is.’

They both looked down at the two gossiping men.

‘But why?!’

‘Hmm?’

‘I mean you are still so young. Why in such a hurry to get married?’

‘I am twenty-eight,’ she replied, amused at his question.

‘But Didi, are you sure you want Ammaji as your mother-in-law?’

‘Buta,’ Kirti reproached, ‘She is nice.’ At least, she used to be, when observed from a distance.

‘I have heard she overworked her eldest daughter-in-law. Tortured her to the point that she had to run away.’

‘You are gossiping around? Mayank is not like Ammaji. He’s nice.’

‘He’s never around,’ he pointed out. 

‘Buta, you’re getting personal and offensive,’ she reminded him.

‘Sorry, Didi. I just think you deserve a better home and guy. Some hero-like guy.’

Kirti couldn’t stop smiling. ‘Apparently, Mayank is an actor. Hero?' Kirti was amused at the whole conversation.

‘I was talking about real-life heroes,’ he said, dismissing Mayank in a breath. ‘Someone who is tall, fair, and handsome and cares for you. Who is there to defend you.’

‘I am capable of defending myself,’ Kirti said, shaking her head. Radha had returned for something. She opened the gate and was getting inside when Mr.Ojha’s friend caught her by her arm, making innocuous inquiries about her school, and her playmates. He then, putting her arm around her, encased in his hold, refusing to let go as the child struggled in his hold. 

‘Such a sweet child,’ he pulled a cheek. ‘Going to school, huh?’ Pulled another. ‘What do you study? Tell Dadaji a poem.’ He was about to bring his filthy lips near the child’s cheeks, when Kirti who had been watching in disgust, the scene unfold before she screamed, ‘Radha!!!’ 

The man spooked out of his wits, looked up, his hold loosening around Radha, which the child took advantage of and freed herself.

She did not know if it was her overreacting or being over-protective. She was acting on her sixth sense. She wanted the child miles away from the man!

Her gaze fixed on the man, her eyes shooting fireballs, Kirti said,’ How long since I have been looking for you, child? Come up, Sylvester is looking for you.’

The mention of the hare filled Radha's eyes with sparkle and she rushed in. The man looked away, but Kirti was not letting him off easy. ‘Uncle,’ she called out, ‘Holding children against their wishes is said to disrupt their growth. Don’t do that again.’ She left it at that but through her glare made herself clear.

‘Tharkee hai sab ke sab saale!’ Buta remarked.

When Kirti hustled down the steps, she felt it imperative to educate Radha about good and bad touches. 

The girl was five and Kirti did not want anything untoward to happen to the child just because she lacked the wisdom to understand things.

‘Radha, when someone holds you and you do not like it, ask them to let you go. If they do not, complain and call your trusted person. If there is no one, scream and bite them and run to one who you like and trust okay? Don’t let anyone touch your cheeks or peck or kiss yourself. You are not a kid, no? You’re a big girl. First, politely ask them not to because you do not like it. If anyone still tries to just slap them or bite them. Also, in these places, nobody gets to touch you… Understood?’

The innocence in her nod melted her heart. How could Sudha leave this child behind? Did her heart not tremble? 

Poor kid, she hugged the child. ‘Want to eat aloo curry and puris?’

Radha nodded. 

‘Okay, but first let’s do the homework. We have to glue the pictures, no?’

‘I do not have an animal chart,’ Radha said.

‘I got it from the market the other day. Go and get it from my bag. Get the fevigum too.’

Radha ran to bring the stationary. 

Ammaji had started about something, Kirti could hear it in the room. Most probably, it was a reaction stemming from their kitchen confrontation. When Ammaji started, she was like a running sore, you didn't want to be near. She continued cutting out animal pictures. ‘Which one? Camel or Lion?’

‘Syvester,’ Radha pointed at the picture. 

‘Rabbit? But our Sylvester is a hare.’

‘Glue,’ the little girl offered. 

‘Thank you,’ Kirti said, squeezing some from the tube and spreading it over the scrapbook. ‘We’ll add some to your grandmother’s food. Will keep her shut,’ Kirti said conspiratorially.

Radha nodded in affirmative. It made Kirti laugh as well as guilty at the same time. 

‘I am turning into a witch no, Radha? A bad-mouthed, nasty witch?’

‘Yes,’ Radha agreed and giggled next.

‘Oh, so I am a witch, huh?’ Kirti bent across the book to tickle the sides of the girl.

Radha squealed in delight and jumped away.

At first, it was only a seed - a fleeting thought - but it was taking the form of a tree quite fast. She was leaving this place along with Radha. It was only a matter of time.

'Radz darling, I am going to whisk you away.'

Her Bambi eyes lit up with curiosity. 'Whis? What is wis?'

[MEMBERSONLY]