Amrita
Page 7
"Tell him, tell the whole world. I'm tired of it all!"
Kamala sat on the ground, rested her head on the edge of the bed and wept.
Maya looked dazed at her mother and then got down to the floor herself to hug her mother.
"Oh, I won't tell appa. You can beat me some more if you want. I won't tell anyone but please don't cry," she pleaded over and over, with trembling lips till her mother's tears subsided.
"I'm all right," Kamala said, wiping her eyes and smiling at her daughter. "Sit down."
Maya perched gingerly on the bed as if she was not convinced by her mother's assurance.
"It was my fault. I've been upset about your sister having to drop out of school and then to hear that you were causing trouble too. . . I couldn't bear it."
"I won't do it any more. I'll keep quiet even if Ram teases me.
"Good girl. Just ignore people like him."
"But tell me, why is she different? Why is she not like me?"
"She was born that way. I'm trying to make her like you but it's not easy. It will take a very long time. She's not as smart as you are."
"Why don't you send her to some other school? At least then you can spend some time with me. You are always with her, even when I come back from school. You won't play with me. . ."
"I'm too old for your hide and seek or. . ." Kamala could not think of any game. In her childhood she had played so much but those days seemed to have gone way beyond retrieval.
"See! This is what I said. You like Amrita so you spend all the time with her. You don't even want to send her to a school. You don't like me, that's why. . ."
"It is not that. You are a smart girl, you can take care of yourself but Ammu needs someone."
"Then let Revabehn take her. I don't want such a sister. You get me a brother instead. I don't like having sisters. My best friends, Hema and Ramya have brothers. In fact, Ramya has two and I don't have any, only this stupid Amrita."
Kamala forced herself to stay calm.
"I'll tell you what we can do, we can all play together. You, Ammu and I, what do you say?"
Maya shook her head impatiently. "I don't want to play with her. I told you she doesn't know anything. Either you play with me, only you and me, or I'll play alone. That's what I always do anyway."
Her face brightened. "Maybe I can practise with my catapult. . ."
She ran out before Kamala could say anything.
Kamala did not know which phase of childhood was easier to manage – Maya as a restless, naughty child or now, a strong-willed girl.
If she doesn't change soon. . . Oh, I don't want to think of what will happen to my baby. If only Ammu would improve just a little!
Amrita was still sitting in her corner looking at her. She was wary whenever her sister was around. And now, even though Maya had left she didn't feel confident enough to go to her mother.
"Come here, Ammu. . ." Kamala continued to sit on the ground near the bed and Amrita came slowly towards her with a hesitant smile.
Kamala wiped the thin line of spittle on her daughter's chin that never seemed to dry and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
"Thanks to all this drama I haven't been able to spend time with you and just look at you. Tangled hair, dirty face. . . chee! Maybe I should ask Revabehn to be with you full time. I thought she needn't spend such long hours here now that you and Maya are no longer babies. I was wrong."
Revabehn, however, had taken on work in other houses and couldn't leave them, neither could she come to look after Amrita in the evenings to enable Kamala to be with her younger daughter.
Maya gradually grew indifferent to her mother's tears. She changed in other ways as well. She argued at every step and did the opposite of whatever Kamala asked her to do. Only her father's presence could quieten her, but Raghu was hardly ever home.
***
"Gauri, were you this troublesome as a child?" Kamala auntie asked. "Of course, you didn't have an Amrita to boss over."
"Oh, more than me it was Sundar who gave my parents a tough time. Till Kittu became too ill to be disturbed, amma always complained to him about Sundar's antics. Kittu could never bring himself to beat anyone. A lecture was his maximum punishment," I laughed.
"You called your father by his name?" Kamala auntie was shocked. "If my children had dared to do such a thing Raghu would have skinned them alive."
"Thank God Kittu was different," I said. "When I was young I used to imitate amma all the time so I also began to call my father 'Kittu'. Sundar would call 'appa' or 'dad' to his face and 'old man' behind his back. I'm sure Kittu wouldn't have minded that. He was such a darling. Very lenient with everybody, more so with amma. If you had complained to him about Maya he would have said, 'She's just a child. She'll outgrow it.'"
Kamala auntie sighed. "That's what I told myself all the time but she didn't show any sign of changing her ways. I would have complained to her father but things weren't too good between Raghu and me. I didn't want him to think I couldn't handle Maya. I did try to explain things and make her understand. Why, once when her school closed for summer I had such a terrible time trying to keep her indoors. She wanted to throw stones at mango clusters instead."
"'You'll become darker,' I told her. 'Too much exposure to the sun causes. . .'"
"If I don't go now others will, then I won't get a single mango," Maya had insisted.
"Be sensible, girl. It is much too hot. No one will venture out in this heat, believe me. Go at about 6 o'clock. It won't be cooler then but at least it'll be better than now. There will be enough light for you to see the mangoes. I don't understand this craze for throwing stones. You're going to hit somebody on the head and they will come charging here."
"They won't. First, my aim is very good and second, no one will know I have thrown it. I will hide. No one will see me.
"They are not fools. Moreover, you have to study. Your marks are very low, really borderline. One or two marks the other way and you would have failed, you know?"
"Rubbish! The teachers won't dare to fail me."
"What will you do if they did?"
"Do? I will throw stones at them."
"Great, you are born to be a bully or a party worker, wanting to pounce at the slightest provocation."
"Who's a party worker?"
"A member of a political party. The smallest excuse and they start throwing stones, burning buses, calling a bandh, stopping trains. . ."
"Wow! That's what I'll be, a party worker." Maya's eyes gleamed.
"Let's think about that later. First things first. Are you going to do your maths or no?"
"No!" She glared back at her mother.
Kamala clenched her hands tightly behind her back but spoke calmly enough. "Listen to me, Maya. Be a good girl. I'll make a nice lemon sherbet. With ice cubes in it. Go upstairs. Play with your sister. . . at least for a little while. You can do your maths later."
"I won't do anything later and I won't play with that mad girl. I'm going out."
Even as she turned to leave, Kamala's composure gave way to anger. She caught her daughter by the shoulders, whirled her around and slapped her cheeks.
"Don't talk back to me. And don't talk about your sister like that!"
Maya pushed her hand away and turned to the door but Kamala was too quick for her. She caught the girl by her shoulders once again, forced her towards the steps and made her walk upstairs as if leading a prisoner to the cell. She threw open the door and shoved Maya inside.
"I don't want to hear a single word from you. You will sit quietly and finish all your work. I'll come in exactly half an hour to see how much you have done."
Kamala banged the door behind her and went downstairs.
Her hands quaked at the fury of her anger and her legs were wobbly as if they were stuffed with cotton. She took a bottle of water from the fridge and drank straight from it. The water blocked her throat and she spluttered, spraying tiny droplets into the air. It helped her a little though and
she sat heavily on the swing, making it protest with a loud and prolonged creak.
"This is too much. He's the one who uses the swing always, like some great maharaja. Can't he do this simple task? He might be a bachelor for all the care he takes of us, his family. What does he think of himself? Am I a slave to slog the whole day? All he does is to eat and sleep in. . . "Kamala's Boarding and Lodging". What do I get in return? A big ZERO. And that girl, Maya! She's got his temper and arrogance. What will happen when she grows up? If she doesn't change her ways, she's finished. I am an idiot to put up with this nonsense."
She stood on the swing and angrily squished oil on the topmost joint. The viscid machine oil spurted out, slid down the length of one rod to the connecting ring and trickled thickly down to the next rod. While getting off, she upset the container and it emptied itself sluggishly on the ground.
"Great! What have I done to deserve this?"
She cleaned the floor and sat on the swing. Fortunately it behaved itself and the silent oscillation helped to relax her.
I wonder what she's doing now. There's no sound from her. Maybe she's crying into her pillow. Should I go up and see? If I do that she'll get the upper hand. I will never be able to exercise any control on her. High time she realised that she cannot have her way always. Poor girl, I was too harsh on her. She's just a baby after all, only going to be seven years. I was such a handful myself at that age. I remember how my mother used to despair of my antics and anger. I shouldn't have over-reacted. Maybe I was tired and took it out on her. But then, it is stupid to go out in this heat. What if she gets a sunstroke? It is possible. People do die with too much exposure to the sun.
Arguments and counter arguments swirled in her mind. Finally, she rested her head on the chain despite the oil that coated it and tried to keep her mind blank. A small sound startled her. She sat up and listened. What was that? A cat? In the kitchen? That wasn't possible since she always kept the door closed. She got up and checked anyway. The door was shut. The milk she had set for curd was safe in the middle of water in a basin, keeping ants away. She went to the foot of the stairs and listened.
Just my imagination.
Kamala went back to the swing, picking up the newspaper on her way. After a few minutes of scanning the headlines, the print blurred and she yawned widely, not bothering to cover her mouth.
A noise stopped her yawn mid-way. This time it was louder. She cocked her ear. It was coming from upstairs.
Good God, what has that girl done now?
Kamala threw the paper down and rushed up the steps.
***
6
amala lifted the pleats of the sari to give greater freedom to her feet and rushed up the narrow steps. Approaching the landing she stumbled and stubbed a toe, chipping off the nail. Even that did not slow her though it did make her hold the railing as she ran.
"Take one step at a time and you won't fall," she had always cautioned Maya. "The minute or two you gain by skipping a step may cost you a leg or an arm."
At that moment, however, even the second it took to push open the door of the girls' room made her impatient.
There was no one around, not even Amrita who usually sat near the door. At the furthest corners were two beds. The foot end of Amrita's bed faced the door. Maya's lay across the room forming a 7 with her study table since she didn't want her sister to go near her books. Kamala heard a small sound, not louder than a mouse's squeak. She went round Maya's bed and gasped.
Amrita was lying on the ground in the little gap between the bed and the table. The chair was upturned, shrinking the space further. Maya was sitting on her sister's stomach. Her hands whizzed and flew through the air, hitting Amrita with agonising accuracy since her fists though small were vicious and her target so soft and big. Amrita was too busy protecting herself with a natural instinct and couldn't fight back. She had covered her face with both arms and was crying feebly every time Maya made contact, sometimes on her arms, sometimes on her chest, sometimes on her shoulders, anywhere at all.
Kamala yanked her younger daughter off.
"What are you doing?" she shouted.
Maya did not reply. Kamala tightened her grip on the girl's arm to prevent her from lunging at her sister. Amrita was still curled on the ground and whimpering.
Kamala caught Maya by her shoulders and shook her.
"Have you lost your senses? Why are you beating your sister?"
"She started it. I was lying quietly on the bed. She came to me and touched my hair, my face. I warned her not to do it, that I'm not in a good mood. I warned her so many times to leave me alone. She wouldn't listen. . ."
"So you had to thrash her like this? Haven't I told you over and over that you should treat her with greater kindness and understanding? When are you going to learn?"
"She's fooling you. There's nothing wrong with her. She is acting mad so that she can stay at home the whole day and not go to school."
"Enough, Maya, enough! If ever you raise your hand against your sister again. . ."
"That's it. Take her side. You always support her. You don't care what happens to me. Nobody likes me in this house. I'll run away and then you'll realise. . ."
"You will sit quietly in this chair and not budge till I tell you, understand?"
Kamala set the chair back on its legs, lifted the girl and seated her with a thump. She then went to Amrita and sat cross-legged beside her in that little space.
"Ammu, my little darling, look at me. Did she hurt you? Don't be angry with her. She's just a naughty girl. I have scolded her. She won't do it again. Look at me. Let me see your face. . ." Kamala's voice was soothing and persuasive.
Amrita got up slowly and sat on her haunches, arms around her knees, making herself as small as possible. Her fair skin was blotched a dull purple and pink though it was not broken. She was shivering but her forehead was beaded with sweat. Seeing her like this made Kamala want to cry in sorrow, in desperation. She had never raised her hand at her older daughter. Something had always held her back even during moments of extreme frustration when Amrita did not show any improvement after hours of parroting that made her throat feel like sandpaper. And now to think that Maya could have. . . Her heart beat faster and a rushing sound filled her ears.
Kamala wanted to turn her wrath on Maya. She hugged her hapless daughter instead, in a tight squeeze as if to quell both her own anger and the trembling in the little girl's body. She took a deep breath and held it till her chest ached. She didn't want to antagonise Maya but neither could she let her get away with it.
How do I tackle her? Fighting between siblings is common, I know. I have myself acted the peacemaker when my brothers quarrelled with one another. It wouldn't be so bad if Ammu had been normal. Then I would expect her to defend herself but now? If I keep quiet Maya might attack her sister again and again. How on earth do I make her understand?
She finally glared at Maya to which the girl responded by tightening her lips and frowning back at her mother.
I shouldn't keep these two together again! There is no guarantee about Maya. What if she grows up hating her sister? I had hoped that she would take over from us some day. What will happen to Ammu? Oh God, isn't there a way out of this?
She had to find a solution herself since Raghu had told her in definite terms that Amrita and Maya were no longer his concern.
She got the answer in her faithful Revabehn.
"If that is the case, then I will stay till evening. Anything to ensure that the little one doesn't come to any harm from that terrorist sister of hers. I will have to give up a couple of houses. Perhaps my eldest daughter, Daksha can work in those places. The girl already has a great deal to do at home," said Revabehn. "I'm training her as much as possible before her wedding or else her in-laws will blame my upbringing for her inexperience."
"I'll pay you like I did before. You needn't suffer any cut in your salary because of us. Really, Revabehn, Maya is giving me more trouble than her sister."
"I don't want to use force. She's a small girl after all. When she grows up she'll understand."
"That's what you think. Mind you, whatever happens here, I'll still leave by 6.30. If I don't go home to sleep, God knows what the children will be up to. The boys will play the whole evening and return home only when it's too dark and their bellies growl. The girls too might get ideas. This TV, kivi, teaches them all the wrong things."
"Why did you buy a TV then?"
"Otherwise they'll spend all the time at the neighbours. It's better that they sit in their own house and watch the film-vilm."
"Your husband doesn't say anything?"
"Where is he home to see what his brats are up to? He comes and goes like a dog through an open door. If he does return at night, he is so sozzled it's a miracle he does not come under the wheels of a car or a bus. By the time he reaches home, the children are fast asleep. I don't wait for him either. Those days are gone when I grew anxious if he was even slightly late or opened my legs so readily to his prodding. My blood has been cold for a long time and as for him. . ." she snorted dismissively. "He can only lift it with his hand."
Kamala hid her smile. As long as Revabehn would look after Amrita, she wasn't going to criticise the maid's language.
Just as well that it's Ammu who is with her all the time and not Maya. At least Ammu won't mimic the woman.
When Maya returned from school in the evening Kamala shed one personality and donned another. With Amrita, Kamala had to be patient, reassuring, gentle, and teach her everything over and over whether it was threading a bead, writing an alphabet or combing her hair. She talked all the time, trying to evoke some response in the girl but Amrita remained silent, occasionally attentive but mostly not understanding her mother's persistence. Maya was restless, impatient and demanded Kamala's constant attention and indulgence.
"Amma, catch the ball . . . oh no, you dropped it again. Let's play seven tiles. I'll teach you."