My Aiyya and the Exemplary Journey of her Life

This story is based on the life of "Mrs. Jagwanta Pandey" who was the great great grandmother of my chachi, Dr. Anita Upadhyaya and whom she lovingly called "Aiyya". It is a narration based on the events as told by my chachi.
In the year of 1902, in the village of Manth, near Ghugli station, Dewaria, Uttar Pradesh, when India was struggling for freedom, under the glimmering shimmer of the stars, the villagers heard  a cry.
"Congratulations. Goddess Laxmi has bestowed her choicest blessings on your family. Such a beautiful daughter", chimed every one who saw her.
Being the daughter of the most respectable Zamindars of the village, she lived life like a princess surrounded by maids and servants who adored her. Big innocent eyes, dusky complexion and a smile that could melt even the strongest hearts. She personified beauty. Blessed with an extraordinary melodious voice, her mere words sounded like songs of a nightingale.
At a tender age of fourteen, she got married. Her marriage like the village fair lured her since she was a little girl. She felt happy, extremely shy, excited all at the same time. Trying new jewelleries, bangles, clothes, she beamed with joy. Her father gave everything that could have been possible from drums filled with gold, elephants, the best sweets but to his surprise her father-in-law refused to accept anything.
As a part of  their custom, she went to her in law's place for a few hours and returned back. She was too young to fulfil the duties of a wife. There were another five years before she could join her new family again.
She enjoyed her stay at her home cooking, sewing, playing with dolls and talking with everyone in the village. One day she requested her mother to allow her to study. Soon her father arranged  for the best teachers and her daily lessons started.
But destiny had other plans. There came a telegram. Her husband died of smallpox, an epidemic that was spreading like wildfire in the country.
Soon all her green, pink, red, blue sarees were replaced  by white cotton sarees. Her bangles lay shattered on the floor. Her forehead that so proudly was marked with red was bare now. Her long, lustrous hair cropped short. She could not understand why everyone was cursing her fate and crying. Her mother in a few days also got caught by the epidemic.
She felt alone. Everyone who once loved and adored her had started detesting her. She was prohibited from attending any auspicious ceremony, badly scolded if she laughed, cursed for bringing bad luck and continuous remarks of being evil always hit her hard, She was confined to a small room in her palatial house.
In a few months, she withered away like a flower that did not receive sunshine.
She went to her father and hesitantly asked him if she could go to her in- laws place. Surprised by her unusual request, he tried his best to make her understand that her home was the safest place in this word for her and her in-laws maybe wouldn't want her there. But her constant requests made him change his decision.
Clad in a white saree, she entered her in-laws home. Her mother- in- law hugged her hard and smiled telling the house members that her daughter had arrived. Everyone in the house welcomed her with so much warmth which was contrary to what her father had told her.
The very next day, her new mother got her a blue saree but she refused to wear it. She started liking the purity of the color white.
She was simple, she never made unjust demands, devoid of tantrums. Her father came many times trying to cajole her into coming back home but being caged like a bird in a big home was something she did not want to experience again. She loved her new family so much, she did not want to go. Neither did she want to marry again. Strange but her decisions were firm.
She played with the children, cooked food often competing with the "elder bahu", she made stuffed toys with so much precision that left people wondering if they were factory made. Occasionally she loved fighting with the elder bahu but being the apple of the eye of the entire family  she usually won.
One fine day the family was invited to a big feast in the village. Her mother in law took her early for helping the people with their preparation. Suddenly someone pointed at her calling her a widow and asking her to leave the place at once. Her father in law who was also the Sarpanch and an unusually calm person lost his cool strictly telling everyone that if they treated their daughter as an outcaste , his family would never participate in any celebration. For the first time in the history of the village a widow had attended a celebration. She had tears in her eyes. She was subjected to so much isolation that she never expected people to accept her. Not even her own father voiced his displeasure against the ill practices and here there was a fatherly figure with whom she had never had a word and he was fighting for her rights. Her devotion towards her in-laws increased multiple folds that night.
Years passed. She grew old but she still played with children. Her heart never grew old. She'd play with kids with the same energy and vigour at times fighting while declaring the winner. She was often seen making "Choolha", a fireplace to cook, by the river to please little girls who had a yearning desire to learn cooking. She'd paint the "Takhtis",writing slates, of children, helping them with their homework and even sometimes writing their homework. It was then the kids started calling her "Aiyya".
Aiyya was everyone's best friend and everyone's confidant. Kids discussed their homework and heard stories. women often poured in for advices. All vows and all happiness were shared with Aiyya. Any big or small problem had to be rushed to her in order to be solved. No decisions were made without asking her. Every new born in the village wore clothes specially made by her as an omen.
With time Aiyya changed her life from a curse to a blessing.
Aiyya spent her life among people she had no relation with but who meant her world.
"Acceptance when comes from both the sides creates bonds that are stronger than blood relationships."
Her life was a perfect example of it. She was the most heart warming, giving and loving individual, devoid of any cunningness or shrewdness.
To accept others you need a clean pure heart and that was her most precious asset. Her in laws got a daughter in her and she got family, respect, love and freedom in their home.
Nobody knows what prompted Aiyya to come to her in laws, neither the reason behind her undeterred devotion towards her in laws was known.
Even in her last days , she was often seeing playing with the grandchildren of the village.
Amazingly her smile never left her face in those 85 years she lived.
Even today if you happen to got to the village of Chakdehi and ask about Aiyya, someone would be as eager as me to tell you her story
She was our Aiyya, our great great great grandmother.

The House Of JOY!!

She looked at the bare wall of the room where once a big collage of her family photographs hung. She went ahead and felt the holes in the wall which she had so enthusiastically made years ago so that she could have brightened the room with her masterpiece of creativity. She smiled reminiscing how she felt like Thor holding that heavy hammer.
She felt an inexplainable urge to cry. Biting her lower lip she turned away and walked out of her room.Yes it was her room.
"Loneliness is something you can never ever get used to. It is that chronic disease that spreads its' roots in your body only to be discovered when chances of survival go grim."
Her father believed that life was a gift that unravels only to give you surprises.
" Had he been here in my place would he have felt the same", she wondered.
The last she saw her mother and him was at the dining area where she saw them holding hands and making elaborate plans about their late evening stroll by the sea. She felt happy coming to Tamil Nadu for her holidays. Her brother was smartening himself up in order to flirt around with the girls on the beach.
She smiled. She wanted to punch him hard once again and run down the staircase only to hide in the store room and yell out to him to catch her. She knew now there will be no one chasing her.
Nobody returned who left for the beach that evening. All she remembered was reading a book in the hotel room and then water and finally waking up in the hospital where she continuously faded in and out of consciousness for around a week. Everything that happened next was a blurred memory.
Barely a month had passed when she received a notice from the Government that it was providing compensation to the families of people who died during the Tsunami.
She did not want a compensation. Perhaps nobody can actually compensate for the loss each survivor was suffering from. If only God could release all souls and get them back to life. If only.
She wondered if they can compensate for the mother's milk a new born is craving for, or for the tears of a newly wed girl who now is a widow or for the ailing parents who lost their kids.
The money can only fill their bank accounts and that too partially but the void inside them, would money be able to fill that as well?
She dragged herself to the kitchen and nostalgia swept over her with full force. All the delicacies that she cooked or burnt, the taste of the food that her mother made with so much love and the memories of her family enjoying dinner came in front of her eyes. She could even smell the wafting aroma of her favorite muffins in the kitchen. Within moments there were just three walls, empty cabinets and even a more empty heart.
Every nook and corner of this house had been used to their frivolous laughter and endless joys. This house had seen her grow from a diaper clad baby to a young individual. It saw her failing, falling and yet standing up again to reach heights. It saw her family's journey from poverty to extreme riches. Every beautiful memory in her heart was attached to some place in her house. It had witnessed the most spectaular moments of her life. The silence today was eating her up. The bricks were pleading her not to leave. Sadness was weighing her down. How badly she wanted to hear her mother shout at her for not eating her food on time, she missed how her father would give her secret high fives when they teamed up for some mischieve and above all she wanted to tell her brother how much of a necessary nuisance he was to her life.
"This house has always been radiating with joy and it will continue to do so", she was firm and determined.
"It will now be a home."
She lay flat on the ground of her terrace where her family enjoyed late night strolls after dinner. The starless sky was dark yet her heart felt  darker. Her heart full of despair. People often told her that it was a miracle that she survived, a blessing of God. If only they knew what a curse it was to live life without those who taught her what life is.
She felt like that little duckling who had been separated from her family. Hardly had she learnt how to swim and an ocean was left to cross.
A tear slipped from her eye, and another and another. She cried for the loss of her family, for the loss of so many innocent lives, the loneliness and for the loss of a reason to live.
The sun was about to rise. She sat down and wiped her tears away. It was a new morning. The pain was no less yet the law of nature was reducing the grief. Her mind continued to be in the state of endless thoughts.
Suddenly she was struck by hope. A hope that maybe her family made it out of the disaster. Maybe they are struggling for life somewhere. How would she ever know sitting there and crying. She decided to get moving and search for them and help others to search for their families.
She decided she'll keep searching till she finds them or the purpose of her life.

Hours later she handed over the keys of the house to the owner of an orphanage.
She smiled as she said, "Please let the house be full of joy. It is not used to sadness."

Match Made In Heaven

She nervously looked at the clock. Looking in the mirror she adjusted her hair and cautiously analyzed her own reflection. Her dusky appearance looked a little fair due to the layers of foundation that had been plastered upon her face, her eyes felt heavy from the weight of mascara and eyeliner, her cheeks appeared crimson, all thanks to the generously applied blush and lips shimmered with the artificial sparkle of the lipstick. She felt disgusted and moreover dejected because she knew the reflection looked far more hideous than she could have ever looked in life. Is this that necessary? To be caked up like a clown and be presented in front of people who’ll scrutinize the way she walks, talks, she smiles and carries herself. She’ll be a mere commodity that will be appreciated or detested on the basis of how she looks and nobody will even give a fleeting glance to her qualifications let alone her nature.

“Maa why do I have to look so different from who I am? Will this makeup permanently alter the kind of appearance I have?  And even if they approve of me today then how will I ever be able to live with this fear of being exposed  and my real self being revealed?”

“We are not lying. This is a general makeup that every girl does to enhance her appearance. Don’t make such a big deal about it. Had you given a little importance to your appearance before then we wouldn’t have had to run behind boys in order to get you married.”

“I was giving importance to my studies maa. I thought it was more important to be well read and behaved than to be beautiful.”

She found herself talking to the walls as her mother had already left. Many boys had come and rejected her. Many others came and promised marriage but never returned back. Some asked her to deny. All her medals and glories stood mocking in her room every time a boy seemed more interested in her looks than what she actually was. She felt so helpless when she couldn’t justify to her own self that what was it in her that was not present.

She was dusky, slender and with decent features. She was not strikingly beautiful yet she wasn’t plain. There was a different persona to her. So different that men failed to understand it. Tears welled up in her eyes. She went to the washroom and washed her face vigorously.

“I will not meet this guy being who I am not”, she told herself firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Meet our daughter,” her mother chimed.

Her mother’s face fell as she saw her daughter wearing a saree with almost no makeup and her hair braided in a plait.

Another round of snacks followed with questions pertaining to her. For a moment she felt awkward thinking if it was a mistake to remove her makeup but then the gesture of the guest was heart warming.

“I guess you should show him your room now.”

She died a little inside. She dreaded this part of the entire meeting. She felt uneasy. Maybe now the boy will make some unjust demand or maybe he will tell her that he likes someone else. Her past experiences have made her very skeptical.

“This is my room.”

“It is nice.”

He went to her bookshelves and started reading the titles aloud.

“You like reading?”

“Yes I do. But I must say your collection is just way beyond awesome. If we happen to marry would you bring it along?”

She was taken aback. For the first time in so many years someone had just so straight forwardly said those words to her.

“Yes I might only if you don’t reject me.”

“Excuse me?”

“It might sound a little rude to you but before you many boys have come and said similar things obviously not the marriage part but yes quite nice things and then in a few days they disappeared only coming back to life when they had already married some other girl. Just before meeting you I was also caked with makeup but then I did not want to be someone else or rather I did not want to be what I could never be and that is beautiful.”

“Ahhhhh,” he sighed.

“Huh?”

“I am relieved. All this while I thought you’ll reject me.”

She smiled.

“Why would I reject you? Who gives me that power?”

“Matter of fact I have been rejected by many girls too. Some found me fat, some said I was short, some complained about my salary and some had lovers and trust me there were many for whom I had to sacrifice my desire to be married only to pave their way so that they can unite with their lovers. You have no idea how bruised my ego was. Even today when I saw you and then heard you I was astounded. Your qualifications, your merits everything was perfect. I was planning myself for another rejection.”

She looked at him bewildered by what he just uttered.

“Do you mean it makes no difference that I am dark?”

“Well come on you are educated and by the way it’s called dusky and not dark. And I like dusky girls. Haven’t you seen Bipasha?”

“But still that means you will say a yes? I mean you can get a better girl.”

“I haven’t got any one yet and I am equally unsure about my own looks. I mean look at me , my flabby stomach , it vibrates when you touch it.”

Within moments they were laughing.

She felt so much at ease. For once she felt accepted and appreciated. Her medals were talked about. Her interests were talked about. He was an extremely pleasant person. He went to her dressing table and picked up the lipstick.

“Will you put this ever?”

“No I find it hideous.”

“So do I.”

“Your lips are naturally pink.”

She blushed. For the first time in life her cheeks felt heated and she felt shy.

“I guess we should go down now, “ she spoke lightly.

“Not that I want to but then yeah if only I go down , then only I can tell my parents that finally their search is over. One more thing you are a very beautiful woman. More than that I was smitten by your confidence and the way you respectfully treated everyone downstairs. You were modest and calm. Over the years I had met many girls who’ll scream and yell about their minor achievements as if they were laurels and then tell me all sorts of things that I was least interested in knowing. Meeting you made me realize that we all do have pairs made in heaven. Please say yes. I really like you and want to make a happy family with you.”

“What makes you think I will say a no?”

“But then I have one condition.”

Her heart sank. The word “but” had never brought any good news.

“What is it?”

“Nothing much I want dowry.”

She stared at him. The man who was so nice and genuine had the same demands.

“I am sorry. I do not approve of dowry.”

He stuck his tongue out and pointed to her bookshelf.

“I want that. Please.”

“What?”

“Your bookshelf.”

“You scared me.”

“Now you are scaring me. Will you not bring it along?”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll come and stay in your home.”

The Silence she Adorned

The sunlight entered the room unabashedly from the window knowing it was an unwelcome visitor that morning. It fell straight on her face registering its presence and marking its victory. She pulled the blanket over her face and slept again. This time her alarm clock conspired to break her sleep. She stretched her arms and sat in bed trying to tie her hair in a bun. She looked for her slippers but could only see one and she decided not to wear any and turned towards the bathroom door.

“Saturdays are supposed to be lazy. Why did I have to ruin my peace and tell the old lady that I’ll get her groceries. These random acts of kindness and my absolute stupidities. Never the less every time I do something good I am bringing more positivity so lets just not ponder over it much and get ready”, she thought.

She took a hasty bath and pulled over a loose T shirt and her trackpants. She glanced in the mirror once before leaving. She patted the hair that came out of her head in weird angles.

“Hey good morning granny”, she joyfully went and pulled her into a warm hug.

She hummed on her way to the grocery store. It was a sunny day yet the sunlight wasn’t that harsh. She beamed with joy seeing almost no crowd in the grocery store. Picking all the green vegetables, and the red ones and also the brown and the violet ones she lifted her bucket. And the lemons in her hands went rolling by. She ran after them only to collide into someone else. She apologised.

There stood a man who looked at her not shifting his gaze even once. She felt a little uncomfortable with his constant gaze. She turned around and almost in a moment it dawned upon her who he was. She stood stiff in her place as waves of memories created ripples in her heart. Had it been the year of 2011 she would have hugged him hard and told him how she missed him but then it was the year of 2014. Three years since she left him.

She did not turn back, not because she was afraid but because there was no reason to turn around. She left him because she fell in love with another man, a man who she still was madly in love, who gave her existence the meaning she searched for all her life and who was the reigning king of her heart even when he was not a part of her life anymore.

She knew it very well that even if she turned around and looked at him it would not evoke any feelings in her and she was very sure about it because somehow in these 3 years someone had filled her with so much love that there was possibly no space left for anything else. But she did not want to trade her loyalty for something as trivial as a look of her ex which anyways would have failed to give her anything. It is not that she never felt anything for him but she also knew it very well it was not love that she shared with him. It was attraction, an adolescent relationship.

She was going through a rough patch in her present relationship with the man whom she claimed to love more than anything. They had stopped talking now  and their relationship had hit the downfall that perished the pristine bond they had. but just hours ago she was so sure that she had moved on, not with another man but with life. She knew she was happy with the way her life was going and had made peace with the fact that he would be a part of her love if not her life. But know seeing her ex she felt an overwhelming urge to have the man she loved by her side holding his hand so that she could have looked deep in his eyes and perhaps the presence of anyone would have ceased to matter but then the reality was that she was alone and the responsibility was solely on her shoulders. As of now she alone represented her relationship and life. This one incident made her realize the feelings she was trying to overpower and that came gushing back. Her intensifying love for a man who was miles away quite oblivious to the turmoil her heart was in now, was scaring her. But it was a comfort to know that her heart finally belonged to someone.

She went ahead, paid the bill and moved out smiling. She felt free. All these three years she wondered if she would lose all her control if she saw her ex. She contemplated if seeing her ex will alter her feelings for her present man. Yes they did alter the feelings, her feelings for the man in her life intensified. She thought would her man behave the same way if he got into a similar situation?

And that is when it hit her hard, perhaps he won’t or maybe he would, she was not sure. But then was his loyalty towards her a reward she was asking for in return for her loyalty towards him?

Loyalty is not a competition neither it is a reward. It is an unsaid promise which usually people fail to keep yet they want the other person to comply to all its conditions without any questions.

She thought of calling him. But then she was sceptical. Would he believe that she did not turn back? Or perhaps he would accuse her of infidelity that she did not even commit. He would make his own version of the story and would believe that wherein she would have slept with her ex and then planning to two time on him. She knew that is what exactly was going to happen. He also did not trust him.

And that was the only problem with their relationship. They did not trust each other. She was tired of proving her love and even more tired of asking for him to prove his. They both knew they loved each other but none was ready to even share a part of breath of the other with even the atmosphere. They were madly in love but too immature to believe each others love. She left only because she was tired of fighting with him over issues so trivial. The bond they shared was perishing before her eyes and she had no option other than to leave or else her love would have slipped away.

Her silence was an after effect of the decision she took. His bruised ego did not allow him to speak to her either. Their silence was the most treacherous journey they undertook in their relationship. It was more fatal than their vicious words. But then today she again chose her silence because she knew her words will only worsen the situation. But she still thanked God for what ever happened at least she was sure that there was one man whom she could love beyond the boundaries and namesakes of a relationship.

She kept the bag of grocery and went to her room. She took out her diary and began to write thinking if only he could know how much she loved him.

12000 kilometers far away a guy muttered in his dreams “You know how much I love you.”

His love lived far from him yet closed in his heart.

The conflict

“The electrons are then excited and they move to the next state but in order to gain stability they lose some energy and shift to the metastable state.”

The entire class was listening to the Professor with rapt attention but however hard she tried to concentrate her mind got diverted to the rambling of her stomach. She felt uneasy and dizzy. Excusing herself from the class she made her way to the washroom. Retching the contents of her stomach she felt better and more in control.

“God knows what has entered my system. I’ll skip the counselling and visit the doctor.”

She pulled out her mobile and typed a message to her best friend Miya.

*I am not well. Write an application for me and meet me at the college gate.*

Miya rushed to the college gate. Her face looked flushed and full of concern.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing I have an upset stomach. Lets go.”

Miya prayed in her heart. She knew her friend had endured so much in the past one month that now she did  not even want her to go through an upset stomach as well.

“Please come back tomorrow to get your reports and make sure you don’t miss your counselling sessions, you need them.”

“Yes doctor”, she replied promptly.

The day passed swiftly . She decided to skip college today and collect her reports.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She entered her home, devastated. She threw the report on the bed and slumped in her bean bag. The pages of the report flew in the entire room. She sat still in her place not even bothering once to put the pages back. She punched in a number on her phone. Nobody picked up. She tried again. No response. She threw her phone.

“What are you doing here? I went to your college and Miya told me you are at home”, Raul shouted.

She sat still. He shuddered. Last he saw her sitting so still brought back all those memories. He instantly softened.

“Baby what happened?”

“I am pregnant.”

He was shocked. Entirely shocked.

“Did you not take the emergency contraceptive pill that night?”

“I did.”

“Then how is it possible?”

“There is no 100% guarantee.”

“Its okay baby. We’ll deal with this. We’ll get it aborted.”

“I want to keep the baby.”

“Do you even know what you are saying? Keep this baby? Are you out of your mind?”

“Yes I want to keep it,” sounding more determined.

“Baby think about your future. You are just 22. You have college to complete. Your entire life awaits you. Don’t take life long impaling decisions in moments of instant madness. Think about it. For once.”

“What is the fault of this baby? Why should we punish it for no fault of its own. Please Raul I want your support right now. Don’t fight with me.”

“I love you and you know that but I am not ready for this at all. This child is not coming in our lives. And that is final.”

“But why not? Raul I am going to give birth to it.”

“Enough is enough when I am telling you to abort it then do so. Simple as that. I don’t want a further argument. Choose and decide.”

“Are you asking me to choose between you and my baby?”

“For God sake what my baby shit is this.”

“You can leave.”

“What the hell? Are you telling me you’ll leave me for this god damn child of a rapist? I stood up for you all this while. I never left your side and now after everything you are doing this to me? You are not his mother. This is the memoir of the event that ruined your life. And not only your life, but your parents, your family and even my life. Do you even know how I feel? The girl I love the most got raped and I couldn’t do anything about it. I accepted this fact somehow and now you are telling me you want to have the child of that rapist? What do you think I am? A saint? I have no problems with what happened but under no circumstance am I going to support you bringing the child of that fucking man in our lives.”

“Calm down Raul. It happened with me and I am the only person who knows how it feels. Neither my parents, nor my family nor you do. And when I do not harbour any hatred for this child why are you making an issue out of it. He is not just a rapists child. It is mine as well.”

“Baby listen to me. You are very emotional right now but think about it whenever you will see this child you’ll be reminded of that night. I seriously don’t want you to undergo that pain.”

“And if I don’t see that child will I not be reminded of that night?”

“Its better to bang my head against the wall than to make you understand. I am leaving and I am making it very clear to you that I will not support you in this.”

She sat in silence. Thinking about everything that was happening.

“Maybe I am expecting too much out of Raul. Why should he back me up with this? He could have left me after that night. But asking him to support me with this, no I am being unfair towards him as well. But then I want this child. I know this is insane, outrageously stupid but I don’t know what is leading me now. At any cost I want this child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4 Months Later

She picked up the bag full of groceries with discomfort. Her bulging stomach ached But she balanced herself.

“Let me help you.”

She turned around to find that Raul was standing, extending his hand towards her.

“No thank you. I am fine.”

She went away. All these four months Raul tried hard to convince her to change her decision. Seeing her pained his heart. But then he did not give in. He knew he loved her with or without that child. But then he did not want her to be burdened by a responsibility that was not even hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She laid on the operation table screaming in pain. The nurses trying to pacify her. The doctor knew he could save just one.

Outside Raul was pacing up and down the corridor praying for her.

The light went off. He immediately rushed to the OT. The doctor appeared tensed.

“Can I meet her?”

“She is still very critical. We are unable to stop the internal bleeding. She might not survive.”

He waited outside cursing all Gods, cursing the new born and cursing his luck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Raul you know perhaps I won’t survive.”

“Thats rubbish, doctors are trying. You have another surgery in an hour. All would be fine.”

“Raul will you do me a favour?”

“Hmmmmmm...”

“I don’t want my child to be an orphan like me. I will not survive and I can sense that. Will you take this responsibility?”

“You have given him birth , and you better come back and take care of it. Nothing will happen to you”, he kissed her forehead.

“She could not make it”, the doctor said.

He went still. He felt numb. He couldn’t breathe. Almost suddenly he heard the cry of the baby. He felt enraged.

“Stop crying you bloody evil thing. You took her away from me. I’ll throw you, kill you or leave you in an orphanage. You don’t deserve life.”

The baby cried harder. Unable to resist he went to the crib. His eyes refusing to even look at him.

With hatred laced heart he looked at the crying baby. The eyes. The eyes of the baby resembled her eyes. He could never see those eyes in tears. Not even now. He picked the baby up and almost instantly the baby held his finger.

He felt a connection because it was her baby and he wanted to be with her always and keep her happy.

“Doctor can we have the adoption papers?”

A Teacher Once Is a Teacher Forever

The sound of horns and screeching of tyres woke her up from the deep slumber. She yawned and stretched herself. She went and made tea for herself and snuggling the hot cup full of her favourite green tea,  she made her way to the balcony. The Sun was all prepared to go to sleep now.

Every evening she stood in the balcony bidding the Sun goodbye and watching the city traffic making its move. The crowd moving with a caterpillars’ pace, people struggling to cross the roads and tired white collared people cursing the traffic.

“Everyone must be going home by now”, she thought. The feeling of going back to home after a day of hardwork is exhilarating. Everyday we slog throughout our working hours, adding value to the work we do and the mere thought of going home makes us enthusiastic. You can’t trade the peaceful ambience of your own niche with anything.

The phone rang. She rushed to grab it.

“Dadi how are you”, chirped her grand daughter from the other side.

“I am fine. How is my little princess doing? I was waiting for your call”

“Oh Dadi I get so much homework. Dadi I called to say that you should join Facebook.”

“That is for youngsters like you. What would I do?”

“Just join it, then you can see all my pictures na”, she insisted.

“Okay okay I will see.”

She again went to her balcony.

“I should have gone with them to USA. It feels so lonely out here. Since I have retired there is nothing to do. My life is nothing but on the path of slow deterioration. This boredom is eating me away. I can’t sit and watch these idiotic daily soaps showing crying wives. Neither can I tolerate these gossipmongers of the kitty parties. Having taught kids how to utilize their time , I can’t waste mine like this”, she sighed.

A group of teenagers were passing by. She was in no mood for eavesdropping on their conversation but then they were loud enough for anyone to hear.

“That math teacher of ours is good for nothing”, said one.

“He would himself fail in the paper he sets for us”, added another.

“He will pass only those who’ll attend his tuition.”

Her heart sank.

“This is what it all boils down to. We spend our entire lives trying to teach them whatever we know and these kids would not even respect us. But somewhere the problem can’t be just in the students. Even teachers now a days are not that passionate about teaching. For them it is a job. For me it was my worship. Each student of mine was a lump of wet clay for me whom I moulded as long as I could. They all have reached places but somehow I never heard from them again. We as teachers selflessly devote our lives to these students without yearning for appreciation. Appreciation does flow in but only once every year, 5th September. Rest for the entire year they will treat you with indifference. I wish students were a little more sensitive towards us. Never the less I am not a teacher anymore.”

She felt agitated. She missed teaching. That is all that she had done in her life.

She sat on her laptop and then created her Facebook account. She filled all the information and updated her profile. And sent a request to her Grand daughter. She closed the laptop and attended to her daily chores.

Late in the night she logged back again to check if her little princess had accepted her request.

“Not yet.”

But she saw there were many friend requests from different people. Some of the m she did not even recognize though the names felt oddly familiar. Another red sign was blinking in the corner of the page. It was her inbox. There were around ten messages.

“How come so many messages”, she wondered clicking them one by one.

The first was from some man named Arun

Arun (Active 2 hours ago)

8:05 pm

Good evening ma’am

Do you recognize me? You taught me in class 9^th. I am that student who brought my driver to the Parent Teacher Meeting instead of my father. Now do you remember me?

“Oh Arun. My God he has grown into a well built man.” The memory of a lean child ushering a well dressed man with no manners into her classroom came to her. She smiled thinking of the notorious child. Another memory flashed by where that same child stood next to her , his body tensed and his lips shivering, when he barely managed to speak that he flunked and had to give supplementary papers.

She typed I do remember you. On a humorous note I hope you are no more taking your driver in your meetings.

Instantly the messenger beeped

“Hahahaha Ma’am I don’t. I told my children how you saved me from all that embarrassment. Ma’am can I say something?”

“Yes go ahead.”

“Ma’am do you remember when I got those 4 supplementary papers? I came to you. Ma’am I knew nobody else would help me. You were always a saviour. I still remember the entire week when I kept testing your patience by repeatedly asking the same questions and you without a speck of annoyance kept explaining. Those 10 chapters have stayed with me all my life. My kids are very eager to meet the teacher who their Dad brags about all the time. Would you please tell us where you are these days?”

She stared at the screen. He still remembers that. Her lips contoured into a smile as she typed, “ I live in the same home. Whenever you pass by bring them along.”

“I surely will ma’am. I surely will.

She hopped onto another message which was from a girl named Sheetal.

Sheetal (Active now)

9:12pm

Hello ma’am

How are you. Ma’am it took you so long to join Facebook. I searched for you so many times. Ma’am please see the picture that I have enclosed.

She clicked on the picture. It was a passport size snap of Lord Ganesha, a little worn out picture that she had given to a girl who was scared of exams.

“You still have this?”

“Obviously ma’am. I have never ever separated myself from it . It will go to my grave along with me. Over the years it has become my lucky charm. I do not go anywhere without it. I am very sure you laced it with blessings of yours. I never felt scared after keeping this with me.”

“I am glad it helped you.”

“Ma’am teachers like you are hard to find now. My kids aren’t as lucky as me. Please open a school. I’ll send my kids there only.

She typed controlling her laughter,” Sure sure.”

 Next was a message from a man she was sure she did not know.

Riten  (Active)

9:12 pm

Good evening ma’am

I am very sure you don’t know who I am but you have brought a very lasting change in me. I was student of yours for five years but I was very introvert so perhaps I never came under limelight. In your class you taught us not only our chapters but the real value of life. You may have not realized but everyday you were bringing change by telling our subconscious the power we were not aware of. I personally idealized you in my life. I was never a very bright student or a very poor performer. I was just average. If you recall once you patted my back and said that I’ll do wonders if I put my inhibitions aside. That line stuck with me ma’am and since then I never looked back.

She was overwhelmed. Her eyes had become moist. The moment she was about to reply, it started raining heavily.

“Oh my clothes are still outside”, she rushed to the balcony. She collected her clothes and bundled them on her bed. She logged out thinking she would reply tomorrow. She wanted to seize the moment. All this evening she was thinking how worthless and unappreciated a life she lived. But these simple messages unravelled the simple magic in forms of words that touched her heart and soaked her soul with love. She never realized she was changing lives all these years just by existing. She was astonished that these kids found her and took time to message her. What surprised her more was that they told their kids about her as well.

“I am of no use to them now but still somehow I reside in the memories of so many. My life has not been wasted. These kids are just a few whom I have taught.  There are many more. And who knows they still care.”

Suddenly she felt very proud and happy.

Outside it was raining hard and she still dry and comfortable in her bed was drenched in love.

In Love With Freedom

The hard hitting rain drops had changed to a soft drizzle by then. The air in the cabin felt suffocating. She pulled out her jacket and tied her hair into a high ponytail.

Outside the weather had turned into a romantic poetry. Light drizzling, sunshine finding its way in between the parting clouds, a half rainbow and a flying seagull.

She stood gaping at the sky, wondering if it was a painting. She held the bars tight and stood on her toes to see below. Crystal clear blue water, rippling through the movement of her mini ship. She could see small fishes swimming back to their home or maybe to a new place just like her.

She held out her hands and smiled to the open nature welcoming it, embracing it in all its glory.

“This is life. Calm, serene and most importantly beautiful.”

A camera adorned her neck but somehow she did not want to take a click. She wanted the scenic beauty to create the most perfect photo on her retina whose snap shall always be a part of her memory. Surprisingly the weight of the camera did not seem as much of a burden as much once the only sign of her marriage, her mangalsutra, had felt.

She did not want to think about it. Not at least now. But the reasoning of her mind lost to the memories she had in her heart. She did not realize that it had been five years, five whooping years since she left home. The home which was never her own.

She was 21 when she got married to a man who claimed to have fallen in love with her the very moment he saw her for the first time. In a matter of merely a month they were husband and wife. The first month was a bliss, a sweet never ending honeymoon that abruptly came to a halt when during a heated conversation, he slapped her for the first time. She was outraged, shocked and to an extent scared but she preferred staying silent. Her first mistake. She assumed that maybe he got very angry and he won’t repeat his mistake. How wrong she was. In a month she knew that he was controlling and abusive. But still she thought she could make things work out. Her second mistake. She took him to various therapists but to the outside world he was near perfect, well behaved, very loving husband who made a great pair for her. Every now and then he beat her for things as absurd as talking to the neighbour. She suffered but never spoke a word to anyone about it. Her pride and her crushed self esteem did not allow her to do that. Ten years, the most beautiful ten years of her youth passed by in misery. She kept finding excuses to stay and he kept abusing her in different ways. Every love has its limits, hers had been stretched way too much. They did not have kids and he shamelessly called her barren without even getting himself checked once. She was not barren, she knew it but found it unnecessary to prove. There was anyway no one who would have listened. Staying weak for so many years, she became a volcano. A volcano that was ready to erupt.
And one fine evening it did.

He came home and found that the tea had no sugar. He threw the boiling tea at her. It scathed her arms but then stirred her soul. She got up and slapped him hard. She looked deep into his eyes and told him firmly that if he dared to touch her again she’ll call the police and get him behind the bars. The very next morning she packed her bags and left. She had earned enough in those ten years to have a decent saving. She left no note, no number, no address. For him she disappeared.

“Hey Meera would you have a cup of coffee?”, yelled her captain.

“No I am fine. Thank you.”

Since that day she pursued her love for photography. She did a short course and then started travelling, meeting people, going on excursions. Not even once did she feel tired. Or bored. Life had something new and better to offer every passing day. This journey was of them.

The salty breeze of the sea hit her nose. She inhaled deeply. She was happy and more than that she knew she was respected and adored by people around. It was difficult initially for her but then had she stayed she would have never known what life could offer. For the first time in years she was applying make up because she wanted to look beautiful and not hide bruises. She could sing to her heart’s contentment without someone telling her to shut up.

Suddenly she saw a dolphin far away in the sea, jumping out of water, diving back and moving forward as if she was dancing with joy. Her synchronised movements were like lyrics of a song, a beauty. She kept looking at it. The tiny rain drops on her face, the hazy mist, the aura of mystery and her never ending thoughts.

“Freedom gives us wings. Love that shackles away that freedom is not love. You can try very hard and fail but then staying in a position that makes you feel miserable is unfair. Sometimes you have to move out, experience life in you, bubble out joy, scream , yell, laugh, and cry but the tears should of joy. Those ten years were painful. But what followed were the most beautiful days of her life. She did not regret leaving that home. The only regret she had that it took ten years for her to make a decision, as simple as being happy, too late.”

She waved to the dolphin taking a snap.

She was smiling. She felt liberated and thankful for giving life another chance.

The Right Decision

The sea was stretched as far as her eyes could see. Deep blue water shimmering like sparkle from the light of the stars that adorned the sky. The sea was quiet, just like her, there were a lot of ripples deep within but on the surface both appeared calm. The sea in all its glory resembled her in every way possible. Her blue eyes glittered in the dark most probably because a tear just made its way down her face leaving behind that little glint of its moisture. The sea just like her gave life as well as challenged life when it wanted to. She thought of her kids, her joy of life, her reason for living which life mercilessly took away from her last year. The terrorist bombing took away everything and left black smoke, hazy vision of her dying kids and bleakness in her life. Her heart ached. Her children suffered because some people wanted to prove their might over our country. But how? By killing innocent souls? She was no one to ask this question as today she had to do the same. With her children her conscious was also ruthlessly bombed that day.

The sea is a habitat for so many living things that were nurtured in its existence just like her, those days when she had a family where everyone called out to her for something or the other. But today the sea with all its calmness was prepared to avenge the destruction that humans had caused. The night before the Tsunami of 2005, the sea felt silent, a silence that shouted of the impending doom. The dark waters receded before it lunged forward to destruct everything that came in its way. Was the sea ever guilty for its revenge? No it wasn’t. But then why was she thinking so much.

She saw her jacket kept next to her bed, the clock was ticking faster now. Beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. She glanced at the clock and then at the picture of her kids. She felt a similar pain that she felt a year back. She knew how it felt to lose everything and live like a zombie.

She wore her jacket and went out.

The sun came out of the sea spreading its reddish hues in the entire sky. Red the color she hated, the color of her children’s blood that was scattered in the park that day and the color of vengeance.

If she did what she was asked to, she would cause another breed of people like her to be born. She was not ready for it. She had to die either ways but she had a choice of life above death. Her ankles were deep in the sea by now, nothing deterred her , she kept walking.

Far away in a police station there was a lot of commotion. A bomb had just blasted and that too in the sea leaving the officials baffled because no causalities were caused. None except one.

Alone yet Not Lonely

“Siya baby wake up”, she heard her mother’s voice.

She saw her mother looking beautiful wearing a spotless white cape, her dark tresses flowing, her big eyes brimming with love and her smile, which everyone said resembled hers. She raised her hand towards her smiling sheepishly. And the moment their fingers were about to touch, she vanished away.

She sat up with a jolt. It was just another dream. Dreams that showed her mother trying to reach out to her. Dreams that made no sense but yet that were everything to her. Somehow she knew she’ll never be able to get over the loss of her mother. Her mother, her best friend, her confidant, all lost battle to that disease which people called cancer and she called “her enemy”. It was hard for to get used to the fact that her mother won’t be around.

She lived with her father, her elder brother and her grandmother whom she despised. Her grandmother never liked her and held her responsible for all evil that befell on the family. And even she hated her for the reason that she constantly urged her father to remarry. Step mothers are bad, perhaps granny hasn’t read Cinderella , she often thought.

An intense pain had started to grip her past few days. She held her abdomen and gave out a shrill cry. Her father came running to her enquiring if she was fine. She looked at her father, his ashen face, his swollen eyes that gave all the lies he spoke about being fine, the clothes he wore weren’t ironed, how could they ever be, mum was not here and grandmother did nothing except chanting her verses.

“No dad I am fine. Just a little stomach ache. Can I skip school today”, she asked meekly.

“Of course sweetheart. But promise me if it worsens you’ll give me a call and you’ll be a well behaved girl behind my back. I don’t want any complaints from your Granny. Okay? “

“She’ll complain irrespective of that Dad and you know that”, she stuck her tongue out.

He kissed her forehead and went out. He knew his mother was emotionally scathing his daughter by her vicious words but then how can he leave her alone. Since the day Siya’s mother has left he felt his desire to live had dampened but he had to live for his daughter who was doing everything to fill up the void.

Since her mother’s death she had matured a lot. In her last days her mother kept talking to Siya alone maybe transferring all she knew to her. Since then she never made unjust demands, her homework was duly done, she got up on her own, dressed up for school, made food for her dad, never answered back her Grandmother. She started to fill for her mother’s place. Every evening when her father returned , she would rush to him with a glass of water asking him how his day went and narrating him each and every single event of her day. Somehow maybe she and her mother had a secret bond that nobody would know. Siya wanted to become a doctor to know what killed her mother and to stop it from killing anyone.

But today she laid in bed withering in pain. She walked to the bathroom and to her utter horror she was bleeding and that too from down. She stared in horror not understanding where the blood came from. She was just nine. She sat in the bathroom, crying.

“Why am I bleeding there? Have I also got cancer? Am I dying? Whom should I ask? Granny? Oh no she’ll never help me. Should I call dad? No No he’ll be very worried. When mum told him he broke into tears I can’t do the same. Whom should I call?”

Suddenly she remembered that her mother gave her a number to call whenever she was in a problem.

“Hello.”

“Hello Young Women Helpline. How can I help you?”

“Ummm I am bleeding and that too from down and its paining in my stomach.”

“How old are you?”

“Nine.”

“Okay hold on you are fine you just got your periods. Where is your mother ? I guess I need to talk to her.”

“ She is dead.”

“Okay. Where do you live?

“I live in Asha Apartments, second floor , 3^rd flat.”

“Okay wait we are sending help.”

After 15 minutes the doorbell rang.

Siya opened the door and found a plump woman standing there.

“Hello sweety. Let's get to your room. Okay give me an undergarment of yours.”

The lady unwrapped a white thing that stuck on her bottoms. For the next one hour she told her what happened to her and explained her how to deal with it.

“I’ll be leaving now. Next time you face a problem give us a call.”

“Thank you. “

The lady looked at the photoframe on the bedside.

“Is she your mother?”

“Yes .”

“Your mother was a beautiful human being, And you know what she was the one who initiated this helpline. I have just started working there  but I have seen many photos of her in our office. I am glad its because of her that even I was able to reach out to you. God Bless! And make your mother proud one day.”

“Dad was right. Mum could make anything alright, even when she wasn’t around”, she smiled to herself and closed the door.

Very soon I’ll be a doctor.

The Proud Daughter

She came out of the Girl’s washroom for the 5^th time in past half an hour. Anxious she walked up and down the corridor contemplating if she had taken the right decision.

“If not today, then never. This is the only way I can put to halt all these boys and girls who have made life a living hell for me. As if it was any good  but now I have to bring an end to it. I want my respect back and I want these ignorant people to know that how difficult it is for anyone to earn a living.”

“Are you giving the speech today”, asked a girl passing by.

She nodded.

“Perhaps about how to spread your legs and carry forward your legacy”, she smirked and left.

Those words stabbed her making her feel sick. Tears welled up in her eyes which she dabbed away.

“How cruel it is for people to say something so heinous so casually. What if I would have abused them? But that is not who I am. I will give all of them a prompt reply. I have to do this today.”

She went towards the podium  that stood in the middle of the stage of the school auditorium. All eyes were on her. Some mocking, some passing comments, some just smiling and a very few whom she called as her friends giving a reassuring look. Her throat felt dry. She coughed a few times and then clearing her throat a few more times she took a deep breath. The crowd was getting restless making sounds of “boooooo” and yelling at her to get off the stage. The teacher went and gave a pat on her shoulder.

“Speak my child. You are doing nothing wrong”, she whispered in her ears.

“A very Good Morning to all of you. Today I stand here infront of everyone to voice my opinion against the harassment that I have been facing for the past few months. I have never given a public speech till date so kindly bear with me. Few months back some seniors of ours visited a red light area where they saw me because that is where I live. My mother works there”, her voice quivered as she spoke.

“I was hiding this fact from everyone ever since I joined this school because I knew people will be biased and then pass lewd comments about my mother which is totally uncalled for. Yes she is a prostitute but that is her profession. Back at home when she is with me , she is same as your mother is with you. She cooks for me, she scolds me when I don’t study, she is the reason that I have a roof on my head and she is the reason that I am better human being than most of the people sitting here. My question here is that does her profession define who she is or who I am? My father died when I was two. My mother did her best to give me food but the sources of income were scarce and that is when she went into prostitution. She could not see me starving, crying and getting drenched in rain as we had no home. She succumbed to the circumstances. Many of you will question why she did not choose a more respectable job. She did try. She worked as a maid in a few homes where men gave her wolf stares and once one even tried to outrage her modesty. She changed many jobs but the truth my dear friends remains the same. Even in the corporate sectors sexual advantages are hard to ignore. Girls are pressurised into it. They work and sell their morals on the road to success. I am not saying everyone does that but when you have a hungry child back at home money becomes God. Morals couldn’t satiate to our necessities. So she chose to earn with her body. What do you think is it easy for her to be clawed by different men who belong to the upper or the respectable class of the society. Her selling her body is cheap but men feeding on that is just a social get away! How fair is that? The problem that I was facing was that since the seniors found that I was a daughter  of a prostitute , they spread this news like a wildfire in the entire school and  almost every second child started calling me “whore”, “slut” and even worse asked me if I was available for a night. Do you even understand how demeaning it is for me? Had my mother wanted to turn me into a prostitute why on the earth would she send me to a school where the kids of the most elite people study?  She wants me to study hard, get into good college and make my life worth living. She despises her life and she prays every night that I come out of college with flying colors. And you know what I am proud of my mother not because of her profession but because she is more humane than many other people. She has taught me to respect every individual and also taught me the harsh realities of this world. She not only sends me to school but also sponsors the  education of a few more girls whose mothers left them in brothels. She is a warm hearted woman who believes in God. She believes that everyone is equal. I would conclude by saying she sacrificed her life for me and I want to concentrate on my studies. Please I do not sleep around so stop asking for my rate card. No mother would want her child to enter this dark world. NEITHER AM I A PROSTITUTE.  Just like you I am a random girl searching for my dreams. Thank you for your patient listening”.

Tears fell down from her eyes. The teacher quickly came and gave her a big hug.

“I am so proud of you. You did it wonderfully”, she beamed.

Suddenly there was scraping of chairs and a commotion in the auditorium. Almost everyone was standing by now clapping loudly as if telling her that she was accepted and loved. Those who called her names hung their head in shame. The rest were applauding.

She smiled. Finally she restored her respect and got back the dignity that she thought she never had.

Later that evening

“Amma I got a prize at school today.”

“For what?”

“I got it because of you”, she hugged her mother hard who sat bewildered and confused about what her daughter just said.