X is for Xia

 

 

She knew she could not live with him anymore. Not when he told her in the third month of her pregnancy. “It has to be a boy. There is still time. Let`s do the sex-determination test. I know a doc who will do it unofficially for us. It will save us from heart break later if it turns out to be a girl…”

She knew then that they had no future together.

***

It was time. She dialed the clinic. "My water just broke Doc.”

“Come now. Take a cab please. Don`t drive.”

“Yes.”

“You are almost there. What took you so long,” chided the doctor as they wheeled her in the delivery room.

In a few minutes she was holding on to a miracle. She kissed her little Xia.

"Xia? Unusual. What does it mean?" asked the doctor

“Sunrise.” she smiled weakly.

A new beginning.

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S is for Shyamali

 

The maalishwali maushi smiled at her tenderly. “Don`t worry. It is just a matter of few months. I will massage and polish her skin. Besan and malai does wonders.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

Ma said sternly, “You better show results. You said so for Meeta`s daughter too. She is still dusky! I am not paying you for just applying malai.”

“Don`t worry. This time I will use chana dal that I will personally grind and bring.”

“And you,” she pointed at her, “you better choose another name for her. Call her Saloni. No Shweta-that means fair. Names have vibrations too.”

She nodded. She was willing to do whatever it would take to lighten the skin of her month-old daughter.

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Bindu

 

“Priya is dead. They killed her.” Sarita was shaking like a leaf as she ran up to her daughter

Bindu`s eyes widened with fear and her heart thumped against her chest. “What? How? Who killed her?” she squeaked.

“They did. I always told both of you to follow the traditions. You can`t do such things. Falling in love, taking your own decisions etc.   You have to stop meeting Amit.”

“But I haven’t seen him since last week and Ma he is a Hindu…”

“That doesn’t matter. He is a Chamar.”

“Ma please. You can talk some sense into them. Caste doesn’t matter. We love each other.”

“It matters”. Sarita muttered stonily. “I listened to my brothers and lived and you have to do the same…” She snatched Bindu`s phone. “I want at least one of my daughters to live. You cannot deny me that by falling in love with a Chamar.”

“Ma please! He is educated. We can live in Delhi or Mumbai or maybe Hyderabad. No one needs to know” Bindu pleaded.

“Priya thought the same didn’t she. And now she`s dead. But you are alive and I won`t let you die.”

The next day the headlines claimed-Prominent politicians newly-married daughter dies in a road accident.

Hordes of mourners crowded at their bungalow in the morning, expressing sorrow at the tragic death of their beloved Priya.

Bindu screamed and pleaded and howled. For days. And nights. And months. But she lived. They ensured she did.  

 

Chamar- a dalit community in India

 

 

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Zeenia

Z is for Zeenia

Pappa has been gone for a week now. Silloo called from Toronto last night.

"Zeenia go and check the old house. See if you find the property papers there.We will need to settle . Did you find a will ?"

"No I don`t think he made a will Silloo.  He didn`t even know who he was , where he was. How would he make a will?"

"I have no option but to trust you.Check his cupboard will you ? I will call you next week again," said Silloo.

Zeenia opened Pappa`s rickety wooden cupboard. His faded white shirts were folded neatly next to a few old stained Payjamas.  She yearned for his presence when the sweet sickly smell of Ponds Talcum powder that he kept at the top shelf , hidden from plain sight, filled her entire being.She rummaged through the drawer, pushing aside a few rusted coins, dirty crumpled notes till she found the small wooden box. It creaked softly as she opened it and found what she was looking for. A huge big rusted key. The key to their house in the old mohalla.

She clasped the key and held it close to her heart as she slipped back to that terrifying day 30 years back. Mummy had collapsed and then Pappa had gone with her to the hospital in an ambulance. Silloo had shut the door and both the sisters sat huddled in a corner.Waiting. Soon it was dark and the lone bulb could do little to dispel the darkness in the house. 

"Silloo, I am hungry," Zeenia had whispered.

"There is milk." 

"Nothing to eat?"

"Maybe a slice of bread. Let me check."

"No bread also. There is a packet of parle-g. We can share."

Zeenia lips trembled as she tried to suppress the hunger gnawing her stomach.

"Dolly," Silloo whispered, Pappa will be home soon."

Tears ran down her cheeks. Silloo never called her Dolly. Only Pappa did. She knew right then that  something terrible was going to happen.

Silloo gave her 6 biscuits and a full cup of milk. But it was not enough. Never enough. She was always hungry.She wanted so much more.She finally fell off to sleep on the lumpy mattress, clutching Siloo`s hand for comfort.

It was still dark when the sweet sickly smell of Ponds talcum filled her whole body. She squinted her sleepy eyes as Pappa picked her up. She heard Silloo ask him, "Mummy is gone forever?"

"Shhshh we need to go Silloo. Hold my hand, "he whispered.

She could feel her body flap across Pappa`s shoulders as he locked the main door. 

30 years and not once did they go back. And now Silloo wanted her to go there for some property papers. How dare she ask me to face it all alone? But there was not much she could do. She shut the cupboard and walked to the window. She needed to breathe. And then she spotted Pappa`s rocking chair. She sat on it holding the key close to her heart and finally wept as she realised she was no longer Dolly. Only Zeenia.

You can read more about this family in my A2Z Challenge posts Aala and Eddie

Dear Readers..It has been a fun ride this month.I resumed blogging after a long hiatus and  enjoyed the challenge. Thank you for reading and appreciating. I will be seeing you all around. Take Care

Quasarbi

Q is for Quasarbi

"Quasarbi," called out Sandhya.

"Why are you screaming? Who is dead?"

"Quasarbi please help me. Just this last time" sobbed Sandhya. 

"That h****** has come home drunk again?"

Sandhya sniffed, "for the last time."

"He has been telling you that since 16 years. And you still believe him."

"This time I managed Quasarbi" she whispered.

Quasarbi`s eyes widened in horror 

"Just as you had told me. Smashed his head with the bat. He was so sloshed he did not fight back." 

Quasarbi took a deep breath. She had managed to do the same with Kadar. She could handle this.

She embraced Sandhya,"Just do as I say.Come we need to clean him. And place him on the floor.Cover him with a sheet and then we  beat our chests and weep."

Sandhya wiped the blood that had trickled on the side of his face. Then dragged him to a clean spot and covered him with a sheet. The whole neighbourhood had gathered and some whispered. "He was not so bad. Only if he was not a drunkard."

 

Tears blinded Qusarbi`s eyes as she looked at Sandhya sobbing inconsolably. There is only so much one should take she thought to herself as she wiped her tears and enveloped Sandhya in her arms.

Francesca

F is for Francesca

Fanny straightened her knee length skirt and tucked her blouse and slid her feet into the black sandals. Much as she loved to strut in her pencil-heel shoes, she knew that it was these flat broad strapped sandals that would support her comfortably through the day. She opened the zipper of her sturdy black bag and checked if her wallet, pencil case and keys were in place. This was a routine every morning after had forgotten her keys twice in a row. She could not open her locker and had to manage her class without her copy of grade 4 Maths book.

“Mummy I will see you for lunch.”

 She bent and kissed her mother lying listlessly in bed.

“Ayah will come by 9. Don`t trouble her. And eat your breakfast and fruit Ok?”

 Her mother grunted.

  

"I better rush, its nearly 7:35 a.m."

Fanny walked briskly to school. She was nearly breathless, still she increased her pace as her tiny wristwatch inched to 7:45 a.m. She had to catch hold of the peon before he left with the muster at 7:55 a.m. and placed it in Miss Girty D`souza`s room. How she hated Girty!  Just yesterday she had berated Fanny in a high-pitched voice.

“Ms Benedict. Surely you know that the reporting time is 7.50 a.m. I have told Ganga Prasad to get the muster in my office only at 7:55. I give full 5 minutes of grace period. And still I see you hovering around my office at least once a week.”

“Sorry Miss Girty”, she had apologized in a small voice. “Ayah has not been coming and I have to help Mummy..”

“Miss Benedict, we all have problems.”

“Yes Miss Girty” replied Fanny as she hung her head in shame.

“Good morning Miss,” chirped a little girl.

“Good morning,” Fanny smiled vaguely and continued her hurried pace. Thank God for giving her the wisdom to keep away from her pencil heels. She would have never made it on time she thought as she entered the staff room at 7:51 a.m. breathing heavily. Ganga Prasad was already there waiting to clutch the muster and run to Miss Girty`s room. She gave him a triumphant smile, 

“Ganga Prasad, Good morning.”

“Good morning Missji", he mumbled. He hated it when all teachers reached in time and signed the musters. He would feel as if he had lost a match!

As Fanny walked towards her locker, she noticed the white sticker with her name F. Benedict had started to peel. I will replace it today she made a mental note. She kept her over-stuffed bag and pulled out her plastic tiffin-box and took a big bite of the jam sandwich and gobbled it down hungrily.She had a class in the first period and would get to sip tea only after that. She picked her math book, pencil case and the big wooden ruler as she shut the locker and pulled the key out and kept it safely in her pencil case. She walked out to the ground for the morning assembly.

“Hi Fans. Looking good,” leered Derek his eyes moving appreciatively from her face to her legs. 

She gave him a disgusted look as she continued walking.

“You coming for the mass this Sunday?”

She looked straight ahead and kept walking till she nearly bumped into Mr Britto.

“Hey Francesca, how are you this morning?” he gave her a big smile.

He was the only one who called her Francesca and this was the only time when she felt glamorous. Else she was content being Fanny. She felt her legs go all wobbly and clumsy and her tongue was thick as she tried hard to muster a cool off hand, "Fine."

 Dennis Britto was a charmer and knew the effect he had on the gullible Miss Francesca Benedict. He winked at Derek who scowled back. Derek hated this slimy creature. What the hell was appealing about this snake? Fanny really was daft, he muttered.

 “I will see you in the interval Francesca. Keep one jam sandwich for me, will you?”

Fanny was delirious. How would she plod through the next four periods she wondered? She wanted to kick herself for not wearing her pencil heels. From tomorrow I am going to get up early so I have enough time to walk in my heels to school, she pledged silently.

Eddi

                                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.