Wednesday 27 November 2013

Maa

You kept badgering me to do house chores. In the end, you let me be.
Now do you see me, managing the entire house, or trying to?
You kept trying to instil in me the passion for cooking. Then you let me be.
Now do you see me, feeling so helpless in the kitchen, wishing I had learnt cooking from you? Or at least your special dishes?
You taught me to take care of Papa, my brothers and Snowy. But did that mean that your job was over?
No, I don’t feel like you’ve left me here burdened with responsibilities because that you had taught me how to tackle ages ago- how to manage everything and still take out time to chill.
Snowy was missing you today. She kept sitting in front of your cupboard and now she won’t eat. There’s no good food anymore, who wants to eat anyway?
I had always told you I love you whenever you dropped me to the metro station in the mornings. For the last few times, I hadn’t. I wished my actions showed more than what those words tried to convey.
A few days before when I had hugged you, even after getting scolded for no apparent reason, did I know that this would be the last time I would hold you so tight and see your face light up?
No I did not.
You didn’t give us any time. There was no time to digest it and maybe that’s why I still haven’t accepted it yet. I still think you would come in through those doors like you had never left us. I still hope I would see you smile that Madhuri Dixit smile and with the red bindi on your forehead, light up the whole world.
The other day, I locked myself up in the room and just looked at the Kalash kept on the side table. That’s what you are now, ashes in a box. I cried holding your clothes and inhaling in your sweet fragrance. I wish you had come to scold me for keeping your cupboard in such a messy condition. Papa had asked me to stuff all your hair clips and cosmetics there because he couldn’t bear to look at those abandoned things on the dressing table.
Abandoned.
Just like us. The doctors said that it was a miracle that you yourself had driven to the hospital in that condition. They said that the virus which attacked your heart showed no explicit symptoms and had no cure. There was really nothing we could have done. They said they couldn’t put you on life support because your blood pressure wasn’t stable. They let us come meet you in the ICU. You talked to us. You didn’t even know. You asked us when these stupid doctors would let you come back home. We had no answer. You promised Papa you wouldn’t leave him. You gave me a flying kiss and I had to fight back tears before I could give you one back. I touched your forehead and it was so cold, so cold. Then we were asked to go out. Ten minutes later, I saw them do that electric shock thing to you which used to look funny to me in movies. That time, it looked anything but funny.
They asked us to come see you. You breathed your last in Papa’s arms. He tried to wake you up but you didn’t. Your tongue had rolled up. It was the first time I had seen a dead body.
A dead body.
That’s what you had become. Within hours, our world had come crashing down.
You hated cold and you were brought back and kept in an ice box. You slept on ice for 10 hours. Next day, the ladies of the house dressed you up in your favourite clothes. They asked me to pick out the attire. That red suit which you loved. They asked Papa to put that red bindi on your forehead. He put Sindoor on you and then coloured your lips with a lipstick. For the first time, I saw him kiss you on the lips. Then he held you tight and cried. I held you tight and cried. My brothers held you tight and cried. You went on sleeping, dressed in your best. Sleeping beauty wakes up when the prince kisses her. Why didn’t you, Maa?
Your sons have been so strong. Varun performed all those rituals and stuff. Even the one which required him to prod the funeral pyre to break the skull. The next day we collected your ashes. Brought you back home.
Home? No, this wasn’t a home anymore. Home has a mother. Home has a wife. This had neither.
They got your picture printed. That’s what you were now, just a photo on the wall. The same one which was clicked just a week ago, at the wedding for which we had dressed up so much. We had had the time of our lives. All your wishes had gotten fulfilled in the last few months, we realised.
The one thing you wanted most was Papa’s time. The last 2 weeks had been such that Papa hadn’t gone to office and had stayed home with you. He had pampered you and then you left him. You left all of us.
You didn’t see me get published. I had shown you the cover of my book and you had been so happy. I saw all the poems I had written for you, saved in a neat file in your cupboard. You had cherished all the cards too. There was a huge folder with all our certificates. You were proud of us, I know. But you didn’t see Varun get into college or Aditya get his scholar blazer.
I was angry. Very angry. You didn’t fight for us. You didn’t give us a chance to say goodbye. Even though I know that if it had been longer, it would have been worse. And you didn’t suffer at all, that’s also good. But since you had left us here suffering, you should have suffered too.
Papa says I need to smile for his sake. He says that if I am sad, he won’t have any reason to smile. We need to find happiness in small things and help each other.
We don’t need sympathy. We don’t need pity. We don’t need any kind of obligated help from anyone. We are fine, just by ourselves, just with ourselves.
Papa says time heals everything and my brothers wouldn’t even miss you much after a year or so because they’re young. But I will and he will. There is no escaping the truth. You’re never going to be here. I don’t have a mother anymore and Papa is a widow.
I felt blank after a few days. No emotions. Life was going on. Friends with other priorities had finally found time to meet, relatives who had never been to this house before came to offer their condolences. It was annoying after a while. We wanted to be left alone. People who actually mattered never left us. They are still here, showing in their actions that they care. They don’t let us be alone at home. Someone or the other stays and keeps us company. There had been a reason why they had come so close to us in the last one year. There is always a reason.
But stupid logical reasoning wasn’t going to suffice. The truth won’t change.
Every time Papa goes into the room suddenly, I know I have to follow. He needs tight hugs and strong shoulders. It hurts to see my strongest hero in such a mess. 20 years of marriage. You had always fought but then made up too! Why did you have to leave us permanently?
Before leaving for office, Papa used to hug you tight and kiss you on the cheek. Now he kisses your photo. Every time I see that, my eyes well up with tears. I used to hate those kinds of people who kept crying. I always told them to live, for life was short. Now I had become one of those. Even though Papa says that crying is also important, this sinking feeling just won’t go.
Emptiness. Nothing to hold on to, nothing left to lose.
6 months later, this unit called family won’t exist anymore. I would complete my graduation and move on to make my career. Varun would pass out from school and go to college. Aditya would go to a boarding school. Where will that leave Papa? Where will he stay and with whom?
We will see as it comes. Worrying 6 months in advance wasn’t going to do us any good. There is no tomorrow. What is there is today. When being strong is the only option left, one has to be strong. I feel old and like a housewife presently but I know that this phase too shall pass. Nothing is for ever. But these memories won’t go. They will stay.

Nostalgia hasn’t struck us yet. We can’t bring ourselves to look at your photos or remember what all you used to do or how you used to be. We just can’t talk about you in the ‘used to’ tense. But we will someday. We will have to. There is no running away.