E is for Eddi (pronounced Ed-di)
Eddi picked up the frayed diary and flipped through the
pages. He couldn`t remember why he had picked up the diary. What was he
looking for? He frowned. Maybe someone`s number? But whose? He paused and looked
around in confusion. Maybe he had to look up someone`s address? But why? Did he
have to visit someone? Or maybe write a letter? He shook his head trying to
jiggle and get his memory back in its rightful slot. Nothing. He still couldn`t
recall. He sat down on the wooden armchair with the diary still in his hand.
This time he flipped slowly and spotted an old photograph. Eddie looked at the
black and white faded image with white patches. He fumbled for his glasses
hanging from a thick white string around his neck and peered at the picture. He
couldn’t read. He wiped the glasses with his vest and tried again. This time he
could read “Eddie and Aala, June 1, 1956.”
Pappa , shu karu thu ? Dolly called out.
“Nothing. Just was …”, he stopped. What was he doing?
Dolly walked up,”Where did you find this picture? Your
wedding day.”
“Is it?” He looked at her questioningly.
“Yes. You look good Pappa.” She plonked a kiss on his
forehead and slipped the picture back into the diary. She picked up the chipped
tea cup from the table. God knows why Pappa wanted tea only in this cup. Most
days he lived in a haze yet he cribbed if she got him tea in another cup.
Eddie looked out of the window desperately trying to
remember his wedding day but nothing would come. Not even one fragment. He
sighed. There was no point. He got up and walked to his cupboard and pulled out
a shirt.
“Pappa what are you doing?”
Eddi did not reply as he silently slipped on the faded blue
shirt. Dolly walked in the room holding a pan, “You think I won`t know
when you open the cupboard. Come on. Sit here.” She pushed him on the bed.
“You
know you can`t go alone. The doctor has said no.”
“What does the doctor know? I am fine”
“I will take you later. Let me finish my cooking.” Dolly
said sternly.
Eddi glared at her but did not protest. He sat quietly for a
few minutes. He heard the cooker blow whistles and then heard the tap running. Dolly would
be washing utensils and this was his opportunity. He slipped out of the door
silently and walked briskly. Even at 82 he was agile. He could even sprint a
bit if he tried. Only Dolly believed he was incapable of doing anything without
supervision. Some days she even insisted on feeding him, specially a curry or
dal.
‘You will drop it all over the place Pappa.”
But the days she urgently
needed milk or eggs or bread, she conveniently
forgot the doctors instructions .She is just like her mother. Aala. He stopped
in his tracks. The picture flashed in his mind. Aala. His wife! How could he have forgotten
her? The witch. He kept walking as memories came flooding back, a
kaleidoscope of images nearly blinding him. He slowed his pace as he recalled
sitting in his tiny one room flat in Khorshed Bagh.
“Eedu, just think about it. Her father has 22 properties in
this city only. And some in Bahruch also. He will divide his property among the 3 daughters. At least 7 she will get.”
Mamma was always good
with numbers. Eddie sighed. Mummy was right. He must overlook bow legs, big
bulbous nose, bulging hips. All of it. Aala could be his ticket to prosperity. The wedding was a
simple affair. Mr Sooi was old and in a wheelchair. He wanted a court marriage
for his daughter. “Whatever expenses we save I will give you in cash”. Aala was
happy to get a husband and Eddi didn`t mind the cash. He wore his only suit for
the wedding while Aala struggled to look pleasant in a beautiful ivory saree
with multi coloured rossettes. They clicked that picture after the registration at the local
studio.
The first couple of years were alright. They were blessed with 2
daughters. But soon after that Mr Sooi passed away. Without a will. And then
began the tussle for his properties, house and bank locker. The 3 sisters filed
cases of forgery and cheating against each other. The court battle started and
dragged on with claims and counter claims. Aala would spend hours searching for
papers, statements, property deeds and wait outside lawyers office trying hard
to understand their gibberish. Eddie took over cooking and cleaning which had
never been his forte and slowly life crumbled. The house was soon a stinky hole
with dirty, sticky jam and ketchup bottles,
stale bread and soggy biscuits. Every morning Eddi would buy 4 eggs and one
packet of milk. He would meticulously place one egg on the wooden table for
Aala and 2 eggs for his daughters near the stove. The milk packet would lie in
the empty fridge till it was slit open to make ovaltine for the girls and milky tea for himself. The cobwebs in the
house increased and the fine layer of dust soon became a thick blanket covering
every corner of the house. Aala continued with the paperwork as Eddi struggled
to plod through the days. Later Taadi became his beloved partner and most
evenings he would lie sloshed in bed, too dazed to even eat the scraps of food
Aala placed on the table. He couldn’t recall why they fought, but most evenings he would stumble out of the
house and Aala would scream, "Arrey ******** ! You have spoiled my life.”
The two girls Dolly and? And ? He wracked his brains. He couldn’t remember the other
girl. He had hit a wall again. He looked around. He was in the
middle of a huge garden. Eddi saw a wooden bench nearby and went and sat there.
He could hear the faint siren of the ambulance and he remembered climbing in
the van holding on to someone`s hand. Who was that? He squinted his eyes and
tried hard to concentrate. He was tired. He just didn’t want to push
himself to remember. Maybe some things were best forgotten.
8 comments:
Nicely written piece. I’m unfamiliar with your theme, but I’ll go and check out your previous posts when I have some time.
www.nooranandchawla.com
Oh...Partly I recalled the notebook..My absolute favourite...Also a book on dementia I once read..Just can't recall the name
You evoked so many emotions.
This must be true for so many seniors suffering with Dementia/Alzheimer. Happened with my Nani, she walked out and sat crying outside a mandir. Thank God someone recognized her and got her home...
@ Thank you Noor. I am trying to post one short story everyday.
@ Sonia Dementia can be a blessing for some...I wanted to look at that aspect. Thank you for your appreciation
@Nisha.. yeah It is terrible not only for the patient but also the caregivers
Strong narrative. His confusion is palpable.
Is this Aala the same one as your other story character? Your narrations are too good :)
@ Ekta Thanks:-)
@ Ira yes same Aala
@Ira Thank you :-)
Post a Comment