Maha is a tad dark and with her protruding nose she doesn't make a great picture at first. Though not very attractive, Maha doesn’t definitely look her age, 30. But for some people though, Maha is one of the few beautiful people they will ever see.
Before 11-12 years Maha was the usual high school girl of my town, trying earnestly to enter a medical college and Jai came to her life. Jai had to quit school at a very early age, courtesy his father who to date hasn't found a permanent job and he started working as an electrician. Maha is from a middle class family, her father works in a government office and her mother a house wife. Jai was the only son of a careless father and a faithful house wife, a lower middle class family.
It was around that time that they started seeing each other. I have no idea how he met her, but from what I have heard, it was a good three months and a loss of business before Jai could make a mark with Maha.
Soon I was seeing them smile at me every time I saw them together in the barren land behind my house. Jai was never a keen sportsman, his younger days were lost in work, but he was always present at the cricket field during our twilight games. When Maha was around he always pretended he knew the game and Maha seemed proud every time the ball hit his bat and he repaid us with something that night.
Jai was going through probably the greenest patch of his life. After years of working under someone, he started working on his own and sometimes hiring people under him. He was soon setting up the electric systems of whole buildings; a long way for someone who had started with rewinding motors. And of course he had Maha; sometimes he even attributed his career turn around to her, though he always ended up in a free-for-all when he said that with his friends around.
Jai’s parents were aware of the two getting along but Maha’s never knew or pretended they did not. Maha did not seem to care and but Jai was concerned.
Interestingly Maha did not get an admission to a medical college, not even an engineering college, which was then an automatic second choice. She joined a local college and stayed closer to home and Jai.
It was during one of those days that Jai passed away doing what he did all his life, setting up an electric connection. He had accidentally come in contact with a transmission line while working on a newly built house.
10 years since, Maha hasn't married yet. Talks of marriage only bring a mad rage in to her and no one talks about it these days, not her parents and not Jai's friends.
She doesn't want to let it go, like Jai is always there some where behind those barren lands, some where under a tree near the cricket field, somewhere...
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Love Story - I
I liked Maha the first time I saw her, she was pretty, she was shrewd and I enjoyed her company, her humour to be precise. After spending only a few minutes the first time I saw her, I was longing to see her again. Only her being one of my best friends Jai's girl did not help my cause.
My friend had first seen her from some 'Learn English' school and his language skills never got any better. Soon Jai was in love with her and she had responded in green. It was good to see them together.
Having brought up in a family that never gave the, as she often said, warmth that she expected, her possessiveness wasn't a surprise. Somewhere along the course I noticed she was losing her nerve too soon and that she preferred speaking to listening, every time. The one thing that I once liked in her, possessiveness was also to a disastrous extreme. Our common friends seemed to share similar thoughts. I never tried to suppress my feelings about her with Jai, he was in no mood to listen; sometimes he even said, I was jealous. Was I? I don't know.
These instances never dented the liking I had for the two of them, not until they were married with only the consent of Jai's parents, not until they shifted to a small but pretty house and started living themselves, not until they had two beautiful daughters and not until that day when I tried to surprise them and I was surprised myself.
I had been home after a while and visiting them was as usual on my list of priorities. I wanted my visit to be a surprise and it was in more ways than one. When I reached their house, I just heard a few indistinct noises; soon I was sure there was a fierce quarrel. She went to the extent of blaming him for spoiling her life. My face silenced them but I couldn't stay there for long; that was the last time I saw Maha.
Jai was a different man when I spoke to him the next day, he seemed to have aged more than what his years should have. Life and love after marriage had taken a 90 degree turn for him. No day had passed without a conflict of interest. He doesn't remember the last time they had a good day or a good night. I hugged him for no reason and may be for the first time in the 8-10 yrs I knew him. I only left when he seemed a little lighter; it was close to three hours. I very soon lost touch with both of them as they had shifted out to a nearby city.
I saw Jai after almost two years at a common friend's marriage; he was with his two beautiful daughters. He smiled even as his elder daughter ran towards me. The elder one is just like her mother, funny and shrewd. The younger daughter is like her father of the old times, naughty but silent. I liked them together, the three of them, they seem to have a resonance that I wouldn't expect of a single father.
The children didn't seem to miss having a mother, not even the younger one; she was barely a year old when her mother succumbed to the third degree burns she inflicted on herself.
--------------------------------------------------------
Jai is actually my brother's friend, and the above incidents are actually my brother's narration.
Despite the compulsions and requests of his family and friends, Jai hasn't married again. Jai now runs a photo studio at a nearby town, his elder daughter is in school and his younger one grows up mostly at the studio.
My friend had first seen her from some 'Learn English' school and his language skills never got any better. Soon Jai was in love with her and she had responded in green. It was good to see them together.
Having brought up in a family that never gave the, as she often said, warmth that she expected, her possessiveness wasn't a surprise. Somewhere along the course I noticed she was losing her nerve too soon and that she preferred speaking to listening, every time. The one thing that I once liked in her, possessiveness was also to a disastrous extreme. Our common friends seemed to share similar thoughts. I never tried to suppress my feelings about her with Jai, he was in no mood to listen; sometimes he even said, I was jealous. Was I? I don't know.
These instances never dented the liking I had for the two of them, not until they were married with only the consent of Jai's parents, not until they shifted to a small but pretty house and started living themselves, not until they had two beautiful daughters and not until that day when I tried to surprise them and I was surprised myself.
I had been home after a while and visiting them was as usual on my list of priorities. I wanted my visit to be a surprise and it was in more ways than one. When I reached their house, I just heard a few indistinct noises; soon I was sure there was a fierce quarrel. She went to the extent of blaming him for spoiling her life. My face silenced them but I couldn't stay there for long; that was the last time I saw Maha.
Jai was a different man when I spoke to him the next day, he seemed to have aged more than what his years should have. Life and love after marriage had taken a 90 degree turn for him. No day had passed without a conflict of interest. He doesn't remember the last time they had a good day or a good night. I hugged him for no reason and may be for the first time in the 8-10 yrs I knew him. I only left when he seemed a little lighter; it was close to three hours. I very soon lost touch with both of them as they had shifted out to a nearby city.
I saw Jai after almost two years at a common friend's marriage; he was with his two beautiful daughters. He smiled even as his elder daughter ran towards me. The elder one is just like her mother, funny and shrewd. The younger daughter is like her father of the old times, naughty but silent. I liked them together, the three of them, they seem to have a resonance that I wouldn't expect of a single father.
The children didn't seem to miss having a mother, not even the younger one; she was barely a year old when her mother succumbed to the third degree burns she inflicted on herself.
--------------------------------------------------------
Jai is actually my brother's friend, and the above incidents are actually my brother's narration.
Despite the compulsions and requests of his family and friends, Jai hasn't married again. Jai now runs a photo studio at a nearby town, his elder daughter is in school and his younger one grows up mostly at the studio.
Mary Ebenezer
The frail old man on the next bed passed away despite the last-ditch efforts of at least four doctors and even more nurses. It was hall 201, the emergency ward,
The next day morning, the doctor on duty prescribed a flurry of tests which included blood tests at three different places, a cranial CT scan and a bladder scan. The blood tests took a lot of time, there were at least 25 people at each counter, and I was almost alone amongst the mostly female queue, each of them holding at least two tubes of brick red blood.
When I reached the counter for the CT scan, the man at the counter was deep asleep on his PC's black keyboard. At least 10 minutes passed before he woke up with a yawn and asked me check out the timings for the scan with the lab. The lab is the last room inside a building that resembles a haunted house, with hanging wires, battered walls and a half lit verandah, I could hear my heart beat every time I walked to the lab alone.
A middle aged woman was lying on the floor in a night gown in front of the lab; another woman sat crouching on the floor beside her. A dark Lab attendant was howling “If you talk rules once again, you will never have your scan done". The crouching woman mumbled she had been waiting for over an hour beside her sister who needed a pelvic CT scan. A younger woman was holding a few months old child in her hands, the child's head was completely dressed on one side. Two more middle aged women sat with their teen aged children. We were asked to be at the Lab at 07.30pm that evening.
The next day morning, the post graduate student-duty doctor wanted the CT scan results, but the results were only to be available in the evening. My brother was refused the report by the same dark attendant. Armed with a written request from the doctor he went to the lab again for the scan and the reports, this time he was offered both but the report was priced at 100 rupees. When he came back he only had the scan in hand.
On the sixth day my cousin was discharged from the hospital as his legs had found some movement and more importantly there was a dearth of the available beds. I wished our neighbors a fast recovery and as I was leaving, I saw the ever smiling Ebenezer walk inside the ward for her night shift. For some reason I said "See you Madam".
"Don't ever say 'see you' when you leave a hospital, always say goodbye, Now good bye, I have people to look after" she retorted.
Before I could bid her bye she was already walking away trying to silence the noise inside the ward. For the first time in almost a week I had a smile on my face.
Smile.
My brother had called me up early that morning with the news and I prayed it was just a dream.
I have known Rajiv and his family from the time I started to remember things. We went to the same school just like my father and his father (Raghunathan sir) had in 1950s. Their family was always happy and laughing, like my mother once said, I think they even laughed in their sleep. Not that they had no problems, somehow they managed to keep smiling and made people smile.
I remember the days when his father, my father and one of their colleagues (Selvam sir) came together for a silent drink in our back yard only to get noisy after sometime. I remember when my father had a stroke in 1991, Rajiv’s family had prayed for him. When he recovered we had taken a procession to the church. I remember the times when our families were not in good terms and Raghunathan sir and Selvam sir still found the way to our backyard. My father still remembers the tiny frock he got for Raghunathan sir's daughter (she is now a mother of three children with the eldest one going to college).
It was a Sunday morning when my brother had called me up and I was not very convinced that someone I had known so well could die; Raghunathan sir was no more. I left for my good old hometown and even as I was reaching their house the place wore a festive look with crackers, music and wait, was it not supposed to be a funeral? It was a funeral and in Tamil Nadu funerals are held this way.
Raghunathan Sir still carried the smile on his face, only he was in a freezer box draped in a white shirt and dark pants. I placed the flowers I had gotten for him and if not for the crowd I would have said "Morning sir" and smiled at him as always.
For the first time in my life I saw Rajiv cry, his sisters and his mother cry. I did not say a word to Rajiv, for I did know what I was supposed to say at a funeral, this was my first. His mother hugged me with her big hands and said "Look at Daddy, can't take the smile of his face, can you? Wake him up, he's been sleeping for long", my eyes were wet, when I walked away after sometime.
My father was crying, Selvam sir was, my mother was, my brothers were, my grandma was and the whole place was. Only Raghunathan sir's seven-year-old granddaughter was running around laughing with my brother's son. They both attend the same school like their grandpas did 50 years before. When my brother and his friends, who are closer to Rajiv than I am, came in with a garland that needed two men to carry it, they were dancing like mad men. When they reached sir they did not move for a very long time, when they did, they were crying and like kids. I had not known if my brother and his friends could cry.
It was time for the procession and I helped pull the cart that carried Sir a distance I would have frowned to cycle. After the rituals were over at the cemetery, it was time to place sir inside the coffin. I held sir in my hands, his body was very cold because of the freezer box but was he dead? I don’t know but in my hands he was so much alive. May he was just sleeping, may be he was even breathing, I wanted to feel his pulse, I wanted to feel his breath and all I did was to help him inside the coffin.
Sir was still smiling when his thick glasses were removed and I was asked to loosen up his shirt. Rajiv and sir's grandsons were crying unconsolably even as the coffin was being closed. I saw sir, I saw them close the coffin and I cried.
My brothers friends were there in Rajiv's house when I went there the next day. After a cup of cofee when I left Rajiv was forcing a smile at me.
May be he will smile in a few days.
I have known Rajiv and his family from the time I started to remember things. We went to the same school just like my father and his father (Raghunathan sir) had in 1950s. Their family was always happy and laughing, like my mother once said, I think they even laughed in their sleep. Not that they had no problems, somehow they managed to keep smiling and made people smile.
I remember the days when his father, my father and one of their colleagues (Selvam sir) came together for a silent drink in our back yard only to get noisy after sometime. I remember when my father had a stroke in 1991, Rajiv’s family had prayed for him. When he recovered we had taken a procession to the church. I remember the times when our families were not in good terms and Raghunathan sir and Selvam sir still found the way to our backyard. My father still remembers the tiny frock he got for Raghunathan sir's daughter (she is now a mother of three children with the eldest one going to college).
It was a Sunday morning when my brother had called me up and I was not very convinced that someone I had known so well could die; Raghunathan sir was no more. I left for my good old hometown and even as I was reaching their house the place wore a festive look with crackers, music and wait, was it not supposed to be a funeral? It was a funeral and in Tamil Nadu funerals are held this way.
Raghunathan Sir still carried the smile on his face, only he was in a freezer box draped in a white shirt and dark pants. I placed the flowers I had gotten for him and if not for the crowd I would have said "Morning sir" and smiled at him as always.
For the first time in my life I saw Rajiv cry, his sisters and his mother cry. I did not say a word to Rajiv, for I did know what I was supposed to say at a funeral, this was my first. His mother hugged me with her big hands and said "Look at Daddy, can't take the smile of his face, can you? Wake him up, he's been sleeping for long", my eyes were wet, when I walked away after sometime.
My father was crying, Selvam sir was, my mother was, my brothers were, my grandma was and the whole place was. Only Raghunathan sir's seven-year-old granddaughter was running around laughing with my brother's son. They both attend the same school like their grandpas did 50 years before. When my brother and his friends, who are closer to Rajiv than I am, came in with a garland that needed two men to carry it, they were dancing like mad men. When they reached sir they did not move for a very long time, when they did, they were crying and like kids. I had not known if my brother and his friends could cry.
It was time for the procession and I helped pull the cart that carried Sir a distance I would have frowned to cycle. After the rituals were over at the cemetery, it was time to place sir inside the coffin. I held sir in my hands, his body was very cold because of the freezer box but was he dead? I don’t know but in my hands he was so much alive. May he was just sleeping, may be he was even breathing, I wanted to feel his pulse, I wanted to feel his breath and all I did was to help him inside the coffin.
Sir was still smiling when his thick glasses were removed and I was asked to loosen up his shirt. Rajiv and sir's grandsons were crying unconsolably even as the coffin was being closed. I saw sir, I saw them close the coffin and I cried.
My brothers friends were there in Rajiv's house when I went there the next day. After a cup of cofee when I left Rajiv was forcing a smile at me.
May be he will smile in a few days.
One..
19.11.1982 0532 hrs,
Place: Christian medical college hospital Vellore, Kamala Nehru ward.
I was born after a cesarean. I was christened Kumar.
Some time during the early 1982,
Place: An obscure village in the Vellore Dist, Tamil Nadu
My Father's brother had a Baby boy. They called my brother Arul.
1985 July
I went to school; I don't know what Arul was doing then.
1985-1993
Every year during the summer I went to the village. And every time I went, I carried some old clothes for Arul. In turn I had the taste of the village life, running around with him to steal mangoes, to swim (although I never learnt), to fish, to..
1993 June 5
I was sent to a Residential Public School today. When I had been to the village this summer, Arul wasn't available for play; I spoke to him while he sat rolling beedis (cheap cigarettes).
1994-2000
By now I was rarely going to the village as I spent most part of the year at school, although Arul came to see me whenever I went home. We were both growing up and I always was a little taller than him but somehow he looked bigger than me.
1998 May
I had my 10th standard results, I was in the village and Arul had been sent of to work at a leather factory. I made 84%.
2000 May
I had my 12th standard and my services selection board interview results. Arul was back from the factory; he again took to rolling beedis. He had worked 12-hour shifts for a meager pay and had to almost runaway from the factory. I made 64% in my higher secondary exams and failed to clear the interview.
2000 August
I joined a college in Bangalore paying up. Arul now had learned to roll enough beedis to pay up some debts of his father.
2001 August, I don’t know the date
Arul married a beautiful young girl from the nearby village, chosen by his father, a drunkard. She was very young and looked no more than 16, my sister told me because I had stopped going to the village. I had learnt to smoke, drink and flirt.
2002 March 3
I proposed a Christian girl from another state. Around the same time Arul had a baby girl and the baby was beautiful my sister told me.
2003 February
I was placed in a private firm in one of the campus interviews. Arul had another baby girl around the same time.
2005 May 7
The last time I saw my girl friend. Arul had a third girl, his parents were supposedly unhappy with Arul's wife not giving a male heir to the family, Arul stood by his wife, but things weren't smooth in the family. Arul was sending his eldest girl to an English school.
2006 March 3
I was celebrating the day I had proposed before four years, drunk inside a bar. Arul's wife and all their three children were found drowned and dead inside a well even as Arul was playing cricket with his friends. Arul was beaten up by his wife's relatives and handed over to the police.
2006 May 7, My house 1100hrs
I was looking at the newspaper clipping that carried a photo of Arul’s wife and children lying young, innocent and dead when Arul had come to my house. He was on bail. Bearded and gaunt, for the first time he looked smaller and older than me. He kept telling me he was innocent and his baby was beautiful. I could say nothing to him, I cried with him.
2006 June 1, 1230 hrs.
I am writing a cold blog about Arul. Arul probably is in the court to mark his presence in a register, as he is supposed to every alternate day at 1230hrs.
Place: Christian medical college hospital Vellore, Kamala Nehru ward.
I was born after a cesarean. I was christened Kumar.
Some time during the early 1982,
Place: An obscure village in the Vellore Dist, Tamil Nadu
My Father's brother had a Baby boy. They called my brother Arul.
1985 July
I went to school; I don't know what Arul was doing then.
1985-1993
Every year during the summer I went to the village. And every time I went, I carried some old clothes for Arul. In turn I had the taste of the village life, running around with him to steal mangoes, to swim (although I never learnt), to fish, to..
1993 June 5
I was sent to a Residential Public School today. When I had been to the village this summer, Arul wasn't available for play; I spoke to him while he sat rolling beedis (cheap cigarettes).
1994-2000
By now I was rarely going to the village as I spent most part of the year at school, although Arul came to see me whenever I went home. We were both growing up and I always was a little taller than him but somehow he looked bigger than me.
1998 May
I had my 10th standard results, I was in the village and Arul had been sent of to work at a leather factory. I made 84%.
2000 May
I had my 12th standard and my services selection board interview results. Arul was back from the factory; he again took to rolling beedis. He had worked 12-hour shifts for a meager pay and had to almost runaway from the factory. I made 64% in my higher secondary exams and failed to clear the interview.
2000 August
I joined a college in Bangalore paying up. Arul now had learned to roll enough beedis to pay up some debts of his father.
2001 August, I don’t know the date
Arul married a beautiful young girl from the nearby village, chosen by his father, a drunkard. She was very young and looked no more than 16, my sister told me because I had stopped going to the village. I had learnt to smoke, drink and flirt.
2002 March 3
I proposed a Christian girl from another state. Around the same time Arul had a baby girl and the baby was beautiful my sister told me.
2003 February
I was placed in a private firm in one of the campus interviews. Arul had another baby girl around the same time.
2005 May 7
The last time I saw my girl friend. Arul had a third girl, his parents were supposedly unhappy with Arul's wife not giving a male heir to the family, Arul stood by his wife, but things weren't smooth in the family. Arul was sending his eldest girl to an English school.
2006 March 3
I was celebrating the day I had proposed before four years, drunk inside a bar. Arul's wife and all their three children were found drowned and dead inside a well even as Arul was playing cricket with his friends. Arul was beaten up by his wife's relatives and handed over to the police.
2006 May 7, My house 1100hrs
I was looking at the newspaper clipping that carried a photo of Arul’s wife and children lying young, innocent and dead when Arul had come to my house. He was on bail. Bearded and gaunt, for the first time he looked smaller and older than me. He kept telling me he was innocent and his baby was beautiful. I could say nothing to him, I cried with him.
2006 June 1, 1230 hrs.
I am writing a cold blog about Arul. Arul probably is in the court to mark his presence in a register, as he is supposed to every alternate day at 1230hrs.
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