Posted:
Author' note -
This piece is a little whimsical something that just came to me out of nowhere.
Have no idea, of how, why or anything but I had to write it just because.
Not proofread
Author' note -
This piece is a little whimsical something that just came to me out of nowhere.
Have no idea, of how, why or anything but I had to write it just because.
Not proofread
Tie No Weights To My Ankles
"Forgiving isn't something you do for someone
else. It's something you do for yourself. It's saying, 'You're not important
enough to have a stranglehold on me.' It's saying, 'You don't get to trap me in
the past. I am worthy of a future."
Jodi
Picoult, The Storyteller
"Was it
the act of giving birth that made you a mother? Did you lose that label when
you relinquished your child? If people were measured by their deeds, on the one
hand, I had a woman who had chosen to give me up; on the other, I had a woman
who'd sat up with me at night when I was sick as a child, who'd cried with me
over boyfriends, who'd clapped fiercely at my law school graduation. Which acts
made you more of a mother?
Both, I realized. Being a parent wasn't just
about bearing a child. It was about bearing witness to its life."
Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care
He closes his eyes, standing waist-deep in the holy Ganges as his hands empty the earthen pot of their ashes.
Its takes him a while as little by little the pot empties, much like his heart did, of his love for her.
He does not realize it when it happens, when the pot empties entirely, similar to his feelings for her and until the hand of the pandit guides him, touching his shoulder gently, he is unaware of the fact.
Upon the realization, he lets go of the emptied earthenware, watching it as it ebbs and flows under the influence of the current, finally immersing in the river to be gone from his sight. The pandit guides him through the rest of the rituals and he performs them diligently, quietly without a trace of any emotion.
He bids farewell to the woman who was once his world, the person he loved the most and does not have a single tear to shed for her as he does so.
It occurs to him he should perhaps say something, feel something, do something but nothing and absolutely nothing comes to his mind. When he thinks of her now, the pages of his memory filled with the events of the past are so overwrought that he finds there are no words left in his heart for her. There is nothing there at all - no love, no anger and no hatred, there is just nothing at all there, for her in his heart, his mind, him for her.
It is on his way back to home, when he is mid-air, that it strikes him - the nagging feeling that persistently bugged him, that would not stop annoying him, what it was. Yes, he should have perhaps asked Ruhi to accompany him, asked her if she wanted to be there for the last rites but he forgot to ask it of her when the news came.
But it occurs to him, it was just as well that he didn't do so, Ruhi might have accepted to accompany him not out of obligation towards the woman who was no longer with them, but out of her love for him.
She would have held his hand to quietly accompany him to the ends of the earth should he have asked her of it.
No it was just as well, he didn't ask her.
It all happened so soon, too soon.
He was relaxing after a long hard day in London, when the call came and before he knew it his tickets were booked on the next flight home and he was on his way to India.
He had to pack immediately and that had meant minimum luggage with the essentials.
He had arrived in the dead of the night to a chilly, almost foggy Delhi and had been not surprised to see even then, his dad there to greet him. How his father managed to make him feel like a little boy and a grownup all at once was a riddle he still had no answer too, nevertheless he cannot say he did not like it.
He liked it. A lot.
Watching his dad be there for him had made him feel warm and loved and he was not surprised to admit or accept that he still craved that feeling. Some things perhaps are never meant to change.
On their way home, his dad had filled him in on the details.
He had learned the where, the when and the how; all without asking a single question regarding the same.
Next he knew, he was home - just like that and though it was the oddest of times to be back, it felt good to him nonetheless and given the reception he got, the feelings were mutual. The hugs he received were warm and genuine, filled with so much love that he had the hardest time letting go. The laughs real and so were the tears, of joy, that shed on his arrival.
However, most of all were the complaints, of the youngsters who were not aware of the reason of his arrival and therefore disappointed with him that he did not bring them any gifts.
After being hugged and kissed, fretted and pampered, it was heartening just as much to be scolded and annoyed at as well.
Because all these things spoke of love, real love and he would not trade them for the world.
In those moments, he realized it, how much he had missed these things, these people over the past two years that he had been living in UK. Suddenly, the prospect of returning soon to Cambridge did not seem so bright.
Even though he had come to enjoy Cambridge , love it and revel in the independence, the possibilities of the place, of his life there, he knew without the shot of a doubt he wanted to be back home soon.
That meant, he needed to sort something's out in Cambridge as soon as possible. He would have to take a life altering decision at the earliest.
"Tired?"
He had briefly closed his eyes and rested when his uncle spoke.
"No Mamu, I am fine."
He lied through his teeth.
"Right, that's why you don't realize you have forgotten to zip your fly after using the washroom."
Horrified and mortified, his eyes widened as he looked down and checked on himself.
To his delight, he had not embarrassed himself, to his horror, his uncle laughed.
"Sorry Adi was just pulling your leg."
"Mamu, that was so juvenile!"
"Sorry, really sorry. I am guilty as charged."
He made a face at his Mamu and then found himself shaking his head and laughing along softly.
He was about to speak up when his uncle beat him to it,
"Actually I just wanted to bring to your attention, your Mami' patience and tolerance have given out and she is grilling your girl over there."
His attention turned towards his right and true to Mamu' words he saw two women chatting away. His Mami and Natasha, his half Indian-half Caucasian girlfriend, their dark heads bent as they spoke softly about something that his Mami was pointing to on Natasha' iPad.
An involuntary smile crept up on his face as he saw his Mami laugh on something that Natasha spoke and could not help but notice from the corner of his eye, his Mamu too approved of her, if his small smile and pleased eyes were anything to go by.
He never knew two years back when he decided to apply to The University of Cambridge, to pursue his MBA that his life would change so much in the coming two years. Not only would he be coming onto his own with the exposure the change would allow him but also find love, in her, his silly, goofy girlfriend, his silent pillar of strength.
She had been in Mumbai, India to attend a cousin' wedding and was about to head back to London when his call changed her plans and despite his protests that she need not take trouble. He should have known better than to ask it of her, but he had received her call and found himself answering her questions one by one.
Next, he knew, she was in Delhi by the time he reached there and had booked a ticket on the same flight as him to Varanasi. She didn't come to the funeral, didn't attend the prayer meeting held in the memory of his mother on the fourth day as is the custom but met him daily at the hotel she had been staying in and supported him through the times.
On the fifth she surprised him, not to mention Mihir Mamu and Mihika Mami, who were accompanying him for Shagun Mama' last rites when she walked up to him and hugged him, announcing she was coming with him.
In hindsight, she had been surprised too, he had forgotten to inform her he would not be going alone to Varanasi and by the time, he got around to saying that, his Mama had coughed and his Mami had downright asked him, won't he introduce them to his friend.
They were standing right behind her back when he mentioned,
"Natz, I was going with Mihir Mamu and Mihika Mami."
He had made the introductions, and then silently prayed to god to help him.
For once in his life, his prayers were answered immediately. The announcement to board the flight came through the speakers and his pleading eyes got his Mama to ask Mami to tame her curiosity even if only for a few hours.
They had been silent through the flight to Varanasi, even during the short drive to the hotel, reserved for them. The only change was instead of Mama and Mami sharing a room, while he bunked in the other one; he was the one sharing one with Mama, while Mami and Natasha shared the other one.
They had changed and headed off to do what they came for.
The hotel' car had taken them to Ganga Ghat and within half an hour, his Mama had secured a pandit for the ceremony.
Once done with the rites, there was no need to stay on any longer and hence they headed back to the hotel.
A bath and lunch later, they were off to the airport to catch their flight back to Delhi.
Looking at Natasha and Mihika Mami now, he could not help but feel that it felt so right to have her here. She belonged here, with him and he would not have it any other way.
"Don't worry Mamu, she will hold her fort."
Clearly impressed with the statement, Mihir Arora' brows rose as he looked at his nephew.
"You do know we are talking about your Mami here? She may seem like she is laughing with her but she is grilling her, I can feel it in my bones."
He gave a smile and held onto the hand of the man who accompanied him. The man who was another victim, another casualty of his mother' actions and yet, yet had always tried to guide her onto the right path, though it was always futile. He saw the man who had his share of obstacles and became one of his constants.
"Mamu, like I said don't worry. But to ease your mind, let me tell you she has approval."
"Huh?"
Though age added a few lines to his uncle' face, he still looked boyish in his late forties and as his uncle' brows furrowed together he could not help but recall the young man who after his father was his role model.
"Ishimaa and Ruhi have already met her and approved."
"What? When? How? Why don't I know of this? Does anyone know of this? Does Raman Bhai know?"
"Relax Mamu; relax, one at a time please."
The volley of questions his uncle threw his way had him surprised but realizing how they had attracted the attention of their fellow passengers because of his uncle' unmanly squeaking and volume they ducked their heads.
Once they were sure no one was looking at them anymore, Aditya Bhalla spoke to his uncle how he met Natasha in London one night at a friend' birthday party two months after he moved there. He spoke of their friendship as well as how six months later he asked her out on their first date.
He let his Mamu know that it was over the New Year' celebration a year back that Ruhi and Ishimaa had came to know about Natasha though Papa was still not aware of her. It was sheer luck; his Papa was to take a flight to London from New York and not from India, like his mother and sister, which prevented that from happening.
How Ruhi had wanted to surprise him and bumped into Natasha. The truth that his sister had walked in on Natasha and him as they kissed was not something he would want his uncle or anyone to know. The moment certainly is not one of his fondest memories.
Neither is the following extortion that even Ishimaa is unaware of, he thinks, which he suffers at the hands of his sister to date.
He never knew bloody shoes could cost so much.
Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo, Prada, Gucci, Burberry, Christian Louboutin; his sister never failed to send him lists of the latest must-haves.
His sister had to take after their birth-mother when it came to being a shopaholic.
Mamu had been surprised at the revelation and smiled on.
"If Ishita Bhabhi approves I don't see a reason for Raman Bhai to object, why not tell him then?"
"Mamu I didn't want dad to think that I am err...distracted while I should be studying that's all. It is why I requested Ishimaa and Ruhi not to tell him. Don't worry I would do it myself."
"Ah."
The one word had all been his uncle said, nodding his head.
"Ishimaa really liked her and they got along well, in fact, she is studying medicine; pediatrics to be precise and they frequently chat too."
"No wonder. Birds of a feather huh?"
They had shared a quiet laugh looking at the women they loved when his Mamu spoke next,
"Now I understand. Hmmm, makes sense."
"What?"
"How come Ruhi is getting so many gifts sent to her from her Adi Bhaiyya."
He had the good grace to blush because of the comment.
"Adi."
Suddenly the tone of the conversation changed with the way uncle said his name.
"Yeah Mamu, what is it?"
He could see the struggle, the reluctance on the face of the older man before the resolution to go ahead forged in his mind.
"Don't, don't think I am trying to intrude or anything here, but I have to ask."
"Go ahead Mamu, you can say, ask anything, you know that."
After a brief silence, his uncle quietly spoke,
"I see you two are quite serious and if you have Ishita Bhabhi' approval, you know she speaks for the family but I wanted to ask, does Natasha, do her parents know ...you know...everything?"
"She does and so do they."
He understood what his uncle meant - are Natasha and her parents; aware of his family, his mother, his parents, the tangled web of relations woven around him.
He softly said the words after what seemed like an eternity. The last words exchanged between nephew and uncle on the flight as their thoughts took over.
He closed his eyes and sat back thinking back on his life, unable to help himself reflect upon everything. His uncle' words making him take a trip down memory lane.
His parent' divorce, a new home, a new father.
The years he spent in a boarding school.
Being homeless, unwanted by the man he considered as his father.
His return to his home, his family; the acceptance and love he found there.
The revelation his mother never cared for him.
The struggle he had with self-worth, the suicidal thoughts.
Ruhi' return at last as Ishimaa and Papa won back her custody.
His slow and steady progress of finding a mother in Ishita aunty; the woman he saw just as his father' wife initially and Ruhi' Ishimaa.
His journey with his Ishimaa and how, with her love and support he came close to his dad once again.
The love he always longed for finally found by him.
The news of Rinki bua' death in a plane crash when her plane' engine malfunctioned midair.
Mihir Mamu married Mihika Chitti, two years later on the insistence of their families.
The new arrivals in their family when he became an elder brother to his cousins - Romi chachu' and Sarika chachi' daughter Khushi as well as Vandu Periamma and Bala Periappa' daughter Naina, not to mention Shravu along with Mihir Mamu and Mihika Mami' twins - Mohit and Mansi, as well as Simi Bua and Mani Phuppaji' son Chirag and Ananya.
However, most of all becoming a brother to his little stepbrother- the little devil, wrongly named as Rishi. Having missed a chance to play with Ruhi, he hadn't known what it was like to be an elder sibling until the little devil came along.
Between him and Ruhi, Rishi was spoilt. The brat was a confluence of his parents traits completely - not only did his name have the amalgamation of their names - he was as stubborn as a mule like his father, as easily angered too; but just like Ishimaa knew how to wrap everyone around his little finger without the least efforts and was dotted on by everybody.
The thoughts of his family; the family he had with his father and his Ishimaa, brought along a smile on his face.
Invariably, the thoughts, which he could not help, turned to his mother, who died recently after overdosing on sleeping pills hurt his heart.
His mother, who gained all the luxuries in the world, the things she strived for most by marrying another time - this time - a wealthy old man well past his prime who did not survive two years after tying the knot with her.
He heard and knew of the rumor about his second stepfather' death too.
His mother had ridden him well past the point of stressing out the old geyser. She had ridden him to his death, a heart attack induced when they were in the throes of passion.
She had gained access to everything she needed and more but still was alone when death came for her.
She had indulged in shopping and travelling, spent on luxuries and fitness. When she needed a companion hired boytoys and occasionally even women.
How odd was it that then she died all alone in a mansion, filled with servants who called his uncle the moment she was discovered.
How odd was it she was gone and so was his first stepfather too, who died of cancer a few years back.
When they arrived in Delhi, he knew what he had to do.
He held Natasha' hand and asked her to accompany him home.
"Are you sure?"
She asked him wide-eyed.
"Absolutely, I think it's about time you meet my dad and the rest of the family."
She had agreed and after a moment' thought spoken up.
"Ruhi would have liked a warning. Her next shopping list had just arrived."
"We can shop for her when we return."
They were waiting for their luggage to arrive when Natasha had squeezed his hand and softly spoke.
"Adi, you have been so quiet. I am sorry if you didn't like that I suddenly came here, I didn't know you weren't going alone."
"It's ok. You don't need to be sorry."
"Are you sure?"
"I am."
"You must really miss your mom."
She spoke suddenly and then realized what she blurted out, an apology was on the tip of her tongue when she noticed Adi smiling,
"No, not really. In fact, I am going home to her now. Or should I say, we are going home to her."
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