"That's a larri. He keeps vegetables on the handcart and takes it from house to house to sell. The fellow's a crook and charges too much. Market is the best," she advised.
"See how the monkey is jumping! It can do a lot of tricks. . ."
". . . and probably knows more than her," Maya would add if she was in a foul mood.
"That's because that fellow has taught the monkey. We haven't taught our darling girl enough!"
"Who's to be blamed for this? My parents. Don't they know that she needs to go to school? How much can we teach her?"
"Don't blame your mother. Either your sister wouldn't learn from her or she didn't find the lessons interesting. How long can anyone keep telling her the same things? It's up to you now and you refuse to spend any time with her!"
While they argued, Amrita watched the daily scene of cars, cyclists, pedestrians, animals and handcart vendors pass by. It provided her with some kind of entertainment, like a long movie with actors who changed constantly. This film had no story though, no climax and a very limited sound track. From that distance she couldn't hear the salesmen's spiel, only the sharp tring of the cycle bell of the ice or cotton candy man. These actors did nothing special except to move across her range of vision left to right or right to left. Only the very old or the very young could have watched such a monotonous show and yet, it engrossed Amrita from morning till night. Maya didn't mind leaving her to it. Those were the times when Amrita did not bother her.
One day a little boy looked up and saw her watching him and his friends. He nudged the others and as one they stood in the middle of the road to stare back at her. This was the first time someone was looking at her and it made her shy. She covered her face with both hands and looked through her fingers. Maya saw her and curiously looked out of the window. Just a few scruffy boys. She picked up a book and lay on the bed while her sister continued her new game.
"Hey!" one of the boys shouted, gesturing to Amrita to come down.
"You. . . come here!" shouted another.
She quickly moved to a side but couldn't resist the temptation to peep out once again. The boys were laughing and talking among themselves and looking up as Amrita played hide-and-seek. A few adults joined them and soon there was a group of people gazing at the window. Raghu returned from work just then. He glanced up to see what was attracting them just as Amrita peeped out. He rushed into the house, ran up the steps and slammed the window shut. Maya was still lying on the bed reading a book. He caught Amrita by her hair and hurled her to the ground, slapping her.
"Will you do it again? Will you do it? You . . . you wretched little. . ." he had gone on and on, thrashing and yelling at her while Maya watched with surprise and fear. Raghu then turned to Maya and pulled her from the bed.
"Couldn't you have stopped her? Between the two of you, you'll kill me. . ."
"But . . . I didn't do anything, appa. I was only reading a. . ." she protested.
He hadn't let her finish.
"I know what you did and what you didn't. Don't talk back to me," he said, slapping her as well.
He left the room at last. Maya heard the front door slam and soon the gate closed with a thud. Her tears dried but Amrita was still whimpering. It made her furious.
"Why did you make appa so angry? Don't you dare do it again," she said, kicking her sister viciously. "Because of you, I also got hit. I hate you, hate you, hate you more than anything or anyone else. How dare he punish me for your stupidity? I'll show him. I won't have my dinner tonight."
Maya woke up hungry in the middle of the night. The house was silent and dark. The darkness and her father's anger frightened her but her stomach would not let her sleep. It growled with little rumbles. She hugged a pillow but it did not suppress the noise or the pangs and both grew steadily worse. She sat on the bed wondering what to do.
Oh, but it's simply too dark! How will I go down? Even if I do, what will I get to eat at this time?
She decided to lie on her stomach and sleep it off. When that too failed she tried to divert her mind.
What can I think about. . . ? My friends? I don't have any. I only had Ramya and she too is in another section now. I miss her. She was such a good friend. From what she told me, her family seemed happy. . . not like mine. Her mother would cook nice things. . . pulao, kofta . . . I wonder how kofta looks . . . how it tastes. Ramya used to say that was her favourite. She was selfish. She could have brought at least one kofta for me.
The rumbling grew louder. Now her mouth was watering as well.
Maybe there's some rice left.
She sat up once again.
It's not really so dark, Maya. It only seems like that. Let your eyes get used to it and you 'll be able to see at least the shapes.
She opened her eyes wide and looked around.
Yes! I can sec the table. . . the chair. . . and there's the door.
She worked up courage and stood up from her bed. She took a few steps, stumbled and fell. Amrita was sleeping where she lay on the floor and Maya had forgotten about her. She cursed her sister, kicked her and went back to bed.
Amrita never ventured near the window again.
Maya had her own worries. She was doing very badly at school and the final exam loomed threateningly. The only comfort was that her grandmother was visiting them.
"Perhaps appa won't be very angry when paati is around. What do you think, Revabehn?" asked Maya.
"If your father gets really angry I don't think he'll bother whether anyone is watching. It'll be much better for you to study and not waste time."
"But it's all so boring. Everybody laughs the moment I open my mouth in class. I hate school, I hate everyone there!"
"Learn to fend for yourself."
"Okay, okay but tell me, what'll I do if I fail?" Maya wailed.
She did fail and bore Raghu's wrath while her mother watched. The only positive outcome of her failure was that her grandmother took her away to the village, away from her parents and sister.
***
"Have you ever been to a village, Gauri?" Maya asked. "That's another kind of life altogether. My grandmother lived in a typical Brahmin agraharam, with two lines of houses facing each other. It's such a small village no outsider will even know about it though it is on the way to Kanya Kumari, which tourists flock to see the sun rise and set at the confluence of the Indian Ocean, Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal. The houses are typical, built in a straight line so that if you stand at the entrance of any one you can see through the rooms and beyond to the backyard!" she laughed.
"I still remember when I first arrived with paati . . . I must have been about nine years old. I was wearing a frock that was just above my knees. She hinted that it might better to change to a long skirt but I didn't like the idea of confining my legs in a swathe of cloth. We got off the bus and walked along the narrow path to the village. Even as we drew closer, the children stopped playing and stared at me. A couple of men talked to her but I could see they were curious to know who I was."
"'My granddaughter, Maya. My son's daughter,' paati announced to them and to everybody along the way who stopped us or looked at us from their verandah. I was suddenly conscious of my thin legs, the shortness of the hemline though it was till the knee, the clumsiness of my gait. I wondered if my hair was too blown by the wind, if I didn't seem too dark beside my fair grandmother."
"I know. That's how I feel when I'm with. . ." I began but Maya did not hear me.
"They helped us carry our bags home, opened the door, someone brought us milk, another neighbour sent a girl to clean the house, a child came with the mail, a couple of old women hurried to tell paati the local news. There was a buzz of activity around her. She introduced me to everyone till the faces and names seemed to scorch my brain. I wanted to hide myself but I had to tolerate those searching looks, the questioning and comments. Later I realised that the curiosity helped to keep the elderly occupied, bound everybody together as if they were all part of one big family. The
little bickering or disagreements among them were quickly forgotten in some new excitement."
"Paati got me admitted to the only school there. It was at one end of the village while a temple stood at the other end. The temples of God and learning faced each other. Behind one line of houses was the river which served many purposes — to bathe, as a place to wash clothes, to meet and gossip, for young men to while away time by tossing stones into the water and ogling at the girls. A much smaller stream ran behind the other line, behind paati's house. It must have been a beautiful brook long ago but now the steps leading to it were worn down dangerously and the branches of trees hung above the surface of the water. Paati never let me go there. She said the trees were the home of ghosts. That made me yearn to meet at least one, to see if a ghost was really diaphanous and whether its feet did not touch the ground as my new friends assured me so confidently. I made many friends within a week of my arrival. All of them were girls. A boy wouldn't think of talking to a girl and if a girl ever committed that sin. . ." she shuddered.
I smiled. I wasn't going to comment if she did not want me to.
"I liked the river very much. I had not seen so much water from such close quarters. It was monsoon and the river was gushing along. Paati insisted on accompanying me. If she was too busy, I had to stay behind too. She wouldn't let me go alone or with my friends. At first I obeyed her since I didn't want to be sent back to my parents. That didn't stop me from thinking what a tyrant she was. It took me a while to realise that her restrictions were for my benefit but I learnt it, the hard way."
I raised my eyebrows in silent query. I was not going to ask too many questions and stop her from talking to me. As a child, the moment I spotted the delicate little shrub with fluffy pink flowers I rushed to touch its leaflets and watched them droop. Maya was just like this plant, retreating into herself the moment she suspected danger. This was one Mimosa pudica I wasn't going to touch in a hurry.
Fortunately, Maya wasn't waiting for me to say anything.
"She would not let me enter the water though everyone else would bathe Or swim merrily," she said. "I had to sit on the bank and watch them have fun. To make it worse, she herself could swim and what a swimmer she was! She'd tie her underskirt tightly round her chest, below the armpit and walk into the river. Then her arms would cleave the water and she would thrash her feet and take off like a little fish chased by a bigger fish. Such speed at her age! I begged her to teach me but she refused."
"'I can't let you run any risk,' she said, making me so angry."
"One day I decided to learn on my own. The moment she entered, I followed. She didn't see me but the others did. They probably shouted to me but I didn't hear anything. I was simply too thrilled to be in the cool water, to feel the waves slap against me. I stood still for a while just taking it all in. My grandmother had almost reached the other bank. Before she could turn back I had to 'swim'. I quickly walked further inside. The water came up much faster than I expected. Soon I had to jump to breathe. I couldn't shout or move my arms and legs like her. Air. I wanted air and I was breathing water."
"Suddenly, a hand caught the nape of my neck and pushed me out of the water. It dragged me along. I could not see where I was going. I stumbled over the stones on the bed of the river. My panic-stricken mind couldn't accept what my feet felt. Water had entered my nose, ears, mouth, everywhere. I gulped in air deeply and coughed at the same time. Someone pummelled me on the back and I recovered slowly."
"No marks, Gauri, for guessing the identity of my saviour!" Maya laughed. "Yes, it was paati who had hauled me to safety. One or two children sniggered at me but others at the river continued to swim, bathe or wash their clothes as if drowning was an everyday affair."
"I was quaking not so much with cold as with fear. Appa's anger used to terrify me. I didn't know how angry his mother could get. She didn't say a word. No lecture, no scolding, nothing. She took a towel and dried my head vigorously. Then she caught me by the nape once again and rushed me home, to get me into dry clothes. I didn't disobey her in anything after that day, let me tell you. Some months later, she offered to teach me swimming but I refused. I'd had enough of the river. From then on I sat on the bank and watch the moods of nature and play of people. The ripples on the water, the leaves and flowers floating lazily, children catching little guppies in their towels and, above all, the expertise of my grandmother as she swam . . . all these I admired from the distant safety of the bank."
"Paati taught me lots of things without making me realise that I was learning anything. I didn't even know that I was changing – in degrees. While staying with my parents I used to return home like a hurricane. Most evenings I'd be in a foul mood, ready to fight with anyone who crossed my path but at paati's, anger was furthest in my mind. I washed my feet as soon as I came from school, ate whatever she gave me, finished my homework, lit the lamp and said a few prayers. I then helped her clear up the kitchen and listened to her stories and songs as we lay on our reed mats. It was a similar pattern in the morning. I no longer complained about going to school. I didn't have the time for it really. After drawing water from the well, sweeping the floor and doing a number of little chores I'd get ready for school and wait impatiently for my friends. School was a few metres from home but we went in a group, taking as much time as we could so that we could talk."
"I wonder where they are now," Maya sighed. "I had so many good friends there. You know, Gauri, one of the reasons why I want to be with my in-laws? So that my child, when I have one, can have the company of her grandparents, grow up with other children, have fun, study and play together. Bonding with only the parents is not enough. I want her to be loved by others in the family and love them in turn. This can happen only if she's with them all the time, not if we go there once or twice a year. What do you say, Gauri?"
Nothing. Didn't she want her child to know Kamala, the maternal grandmother? I let her carry on with her story.
"I was happy for the first time in my life," said Maya. "In a way I never thought would be possible. There was no reason for me to get angry. I made friends with children who did not laugh at me. I was doing well in school and my teachers praised me in front of the whole class. I was not made to feel responsible for anyone. It was as if my sufferings were over at last. I was wrong."
"My grandmother was already old when she visited us. I did not think of asking her why her skin was wrinkled or why the flesh of her upper arms sagged. I just accepted those as part of her. In any case, a woman who could swim so well was surely a healthy woman. But she lived only for another three years, just long enough to show me what happiness was and then she died. Appa came to do her last rites and took me back with him."
"Nothing had changed at home. Amma was as sullen as ever, appa was hardly around and Amrita was back in her corner, sucking her thumb, arms around her knees, rocking endlessly on her haunches. I might not have left at all."
***
16
nough of this nonsense. Get up. Don't you dare do this again," Maya shouted, hauling Amrita to her feet. The suddenness of her voice made her sister cringe and hide her face.
Revabehn tried to intervene.
"What else will she do, the poor thing?"
"She's worse than before. Why have all of you left her alone like this?"
"We tried but she wouldn't learn anything. She can be more stubborn than a donkey. She wouldn't even do the usual chores always. Perhaps she missed you. Look at her now. . ."
Amrita was touching Maya's face with the tips of her fingers. The fear that had lurked in her eyes just moments ago had vanished. In its place was an excitement that the girl could not hide.
Maya let go of her sister's hands. She couldn't look at Amrita in the face. Her eyes fell on the dull red streaks her fingers had made just above the wrist. She wanted to rub that mark away. She wanted to say sorry. She wanted to cry. She turned to Revabehn instead.
"At least somebody is happy to see me. With paati gone, I thou
ght I'd lost the only person who had some affection for me. Apparently my sister does, even though I've not always been nice to her."
"You can make up for that," said the maid. "Now that you're back, teach her. She might listen to you. She certainly didn't want to obey us."
Maya smiled at Amrita, making her look at the floor in embarrassment.
"You're still so shy! I'll change that too. I have to go to the school but I'll teach you as much as I learn there, okay?"
She waited for a reply.
"Come on. Say something. If you don't want to study I won't bother. Tell me what you want to do."
Once again Amrita smiled and did not reply.
"Ofo! You still won't talk? Revabehn, I know she's not dumb. Why doesn't she say anything?"
"I suppose it's because she has been alone for too long, ever since you left. Our presence did not matter to her."
"That's absurd. . . ." Maya began and realised that Revabehn was right. They might live under one roof but Amrita had always been alone.
"I'm also to be blamed. It's true I went away with paati but when I was here I could have talked to you instead of only shouting at you," Maya said, taking Amrita's hand into hers once again and looking at her sister's face as if seeing her for the first time.
Revabehn was not convinced that Maya had truly changed towards Amrita. She kept checking on the girls till climbing the steps to reach their room became too painful. Her suspicion did not stop Maya from becoming her sister's tutor from the day she arrived till she left her parental home with her husband, years later.
"I'll teach you how to read and write," she said, taking a sheet of paper and pencil. "You can then spend your time reading books while I'm at school."
She drew a flower and asked, "What's this? You know?"
The older girl smiled hesitantly.
"Fla. . ver. Say it. No . . . wait. I'll show you a flower."
She ran to the front yard and looked around. It was bare except for a few drying weeds.
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