tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
i crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
y por las calles, voy sin nutrirme, callado,
silent and starving, i prowl through the streets.
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me descuicia,
bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
busco el sonido liquido de tus pies en el dia
i hunt for the liquid measure of your step.
~~~pablo neruda, love sonnet xi~~~
she still remembered the day he was born. it was late evening, and she'd just finished dinner when maa started to feel unwell. there was no one at home. well, not in their wing at least. pita ji had gone out as usual earlier in the evening. chacha ji had gone with him. when maa said to call rahim chacha and get him to fetch dadi, anjali complied, a panic beginning to seize her.
she was only seven years old yet she understood care well.
her battle with polio, while strengthening parts of her and giving her a resolve rarely found in a person so young, had also given her a certain vulnerability, a view of life that couldn't turn away from darkness and embrace the sunshine of childhood.
she'd learned at a young age, life was not fair.
terrible things could happen. her maa and pita ji had become people she loved desperately; and worried about all the time. even though she was only seven.
when the doctor and nurse came over, dadi tried to take her to her room, but anjali was adamant, she was not leaving maa. and she hadn't. through that long night of labour, ratna malik had looked out over to the door left ajar, and seen her beautiful firstborn sitting on the sofa in the adjoining room, wide awake, looking toward her mother. every time their eyes met, anjali had smiled. somehow wanting to let her maa know, all was well, she was here. ratna malik had always been grateful to god for her child, never mind her mother in law's obvious disappointment that it wasn't a boy. to be fair to her, dadi had loved her first grandchild, hiding her disappointment well. and when polio struck, not a person in the house had been less than wonderful about helping little anjali deal with it.
yet ratna knew, both her mother in law and her husband would have preferred the firstborn to be a son, some part of them reserving a higher regard for the male heir.
it was almost dawn. her mother looked so tired, anjali was nodding off, when suddenly there was a rush all around. hot water, towels, people hurrying. the door between the rooms was closed. anjali sat up and waited.
who was that crying?
she got up with a start.
the door opened, a smiling nurse walked out and said to her, "did you ask god for a brother?"
anjali stared at the woman. how did this stranger know?
you see anjali always knew that both pita ji and dadi wanted a son and a grandson, so what if no one told her. and because she loved them...
but what she did not know was that from the moment she laid eyes on the little bundle with thick black hair and a shriveled up face, tiny little hands, soft cushiony feet, she would fall in love.
***
for almost two months now, she'd feared for her chhotey. what if his eyes never opened again? what if, like maa and pita ji... again and again she'd stopped the thoughts and carried on with the day. trying to be strong. calling upon all the little ways of coping she'd learned as a child. with chhotey around, she'd rarely needed them any longer, he was always there. she'd known her brother to be different, strong, clever, but the way he'd handled things from that night almost 14 years ago, she was stunned by his resilience, his determination, and he'd become even more important to her if that were possible.
if she'd felt the stirrings of a new love when she saw him that first time, he as he grew up and was pampered beyond belief by the whole malik family, had felt a fierce sort of protective love for his di, who took such good care of him, was willing to take the smaller "half" of the chocolate, never complained about the awful tricks he tried out on her, and hobbled along patiently with him wherever he led. the way he looked at it, he was allowed to bully her a bit seeing that he was her one and only beloved fabulous clever younger brother, but let anyone else bother her even that much and he'd show them.
ratna malik would watch her children and feel a strange sense of satisfaction. she knew when the time came for her to go, these two would take care of each other. mothers tend to think of such things. though ratna had no idea how soon that day would come.
***
"khushi, it was not an accident... it was that shyam... it was him," asr felt a rage exploding. khushi looked at him speechless, how did he...?
"chhotey," anjali's voice cut into the silence that had fallen across the room.
two pairs of eyes spun to stare at her at the doorway. anjali could only see one pair today. she smiled as the brown of them dazzled her. such a lovely colour, better than any other colour in the world, she thought.
chhotey was propped up on pillows, half lying, but his eyes were open... and wasn't that him speaking right now?
she remembered tiny hands, cushiony feet.
she stood there staring at him. she wished she'd stayed up by his bed the whole time he was not around...
he watched her with that half smile on her face, a bowl of kheer (had to be) in hand... di. and a thought blew threw his mind, a woman in an other worldly garden sending him home.
"di," he said softly.
she started making her way to him then, she wanted to close the distance. khushi stood aside as anjali approached, she knew how much the two loved and needed each other, never stopped touching her this crazy love.
anjali sat by her brother and carefully put the kheer on the table by the bed. then she leaned over and touched his thick black hair, stroking it gently, her eyes looking at him searchingly as though trying to make sure all indeed was well, her little brother was unharmed, whole, here. he let his hand slip into hers. "chhotey, " he could feel the tears in her voice. he pulled her to him and held her close, "nahin, di, don't cry, i am here, see? i have gone nowhere... main kabhi aapko chhorke nahin jaaonga, aap jaanti hain na?"
(no, di, don't cry, i am here, see? i have gone nowhere... i am not going to leave you and go anywhere, you know that, don't you?)
without anything having to be said, siblings sometimes read each others minds. he knew she feared he'd be gone... just like their parents. that she needed him not because she was weak, but because she loved him, and all of her parents' share of love she'd given him over the years. and he knew, it was her love that had kept him sane, given him the will to stay on when maa had gone. two simple gun shots. everything over.
he shivered. she stroked his hair, "shh shh.. chhotey." she knew what memory wracked him just now.
"nannav!" it was nk.
he'd come up from sydney to be with the family, very concerned about his friend, nannav, and his masi. he also wanted to be sure khushi ji was indeed as fine as she kept saying she was on the phone. somehow, nk felt he was supposed to be here when the family was in trouble of any kind. strange. this india was such a strange place. kept sending him smoke signals... down under or wherever he may be. "hai re nand kissore," he started as he recalled khushi ji's aunt, bua ji's refrain. thank g he was not the nand kishore she pined for.
he walked in beaming from ear to ear and went and gave khushi a big hug. he didn't see the look in a pair of eyes at this impulsiveness. asr just did not like anyone touching khushi. that's it. call it backward, unevolved, whatever... but dammit, how dare that nk.
"oh khushi ji, dekho, hamara nannav karma se wapas aa gaya..."
(oh khushi ji, look, our nannav is back from karma.)
"karma nahin, nanhe ji, coma," khushi said automatically correcting her friend, and then realised nk was doing this deliberately just to make everyone laugh.
anjali smiled at the way nk had fixed her brother's mood. she'd seen that look. she reached for the kheer, he could do with a little bit of sweet stuff now.
within minutes the whole family was in the room, payal, akash, mama ji, nani ji, even lakshmi ji. everyone was trying to talk at the same time, there were smiles and tears and a slight air of hysteria all around. op decided it was time to serve everyone some tea to cool down with. the nurse tried her best to bring silence and order and failed miserably.
mami ji sat on the bed next to asr, holding his hand. for a change, completely quiet. she recalled two kids whose lives were so terribly changed one night. motherless, penniless, homeless. she'd always loved her niece and nephew by marriage, for they'd accepted her for who she was, no questions asked, and loved her as their own from the very first day. she knew as the children grew up that her akash was perhaps not as smart as her sister in law's son, just the kind of thing which creates jealousy and discord. yet, manorama had not minded. arnav's regard for her had touched a very fragile young woman's heart, she who couldn't flaunt her lineage and feel a sense of entitlement, who had to desperately claw at and wrest status from an unyielding world. she loved this boy. and he always could feel that. he got her like few others did. and he never judged her. she picked up his hand and gave it a quick kiss.
nani ji was sitting on the other side on a chair, "chhotey, aap aa gaye... i knew i could trust my grandson," she smiled at him... she had wondered if life was going to deliver yet another unbearable blow, and was she strong enough to take it at this age. if khushi bitiya deserved such a fate. two months... such harrowing days.
(chhotey, you came back, i knew i could trust my grandson.)
nk's phone rang, "hello? yes... yes!" he rushed over to asr with the phone, "nannav, lavanya on the line, tumse baat karna chahti hai..."
(nannav, lavanya on the line, wants to talk to you!)
asr smiled as he reached for the phone. khushi frowned as she turned away.
she didn't want anyone to see that little funny feeling. she knew there was nothing to worry about. lavanya ji was her friend. and arnav ji had no feelings for anyone but her... still. uff khushi, tu bhi na, she thought, stop being so silly, she admonished herself. lavanya ji kitni achhi hai.
(uff khushi, stop it, she thought, stop being so silly, she admonished herself. lavanya ji is so nice.)
***
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Geet - Hui Sabse Parayee
Cricket
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