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Rated: · Short Story · Other · #1413551
real childhood memories which changed her life...
The sound of the telephone echoed through the dark house. She wondered... "Who would be calling her now?" She looked at her digital watch; it blinked 1:15 am. As the phone rang for the fifth time Maya hurried towards the drawing room. After answering the call, she sat still, staring into space.
I went near her and told her how didi pushed me out of the bed while sleeping, "Ma can I sleep with you?"... She looked at me as if registering my presence and then said, "Of course beta!"
I tried opening my sleepy eyes after I realized that I was sitting on a chair and someone was tying my shoelaces...of my blue shoes...hmm...how I wanted the red ones!... but these were not my school shoes, and it was still dark outside the window and what was Rishi mama doing next to me?... I thought I was dreaming ... but then he asked me to go and sit in the jeep parked outside the house. Vrinda was already sitting in the jeep in her Tweety sweat shirt and blue pyjamas. Good. Even she didn't get to sleep.
Her long face with big eyes held an expression of confusion and curiosity, "What do you think all the uncles and aunties of our unit are doing here and where are we going?" she asked.
I looked outside, some were quite and some were talking to mom. I had never seen them so serious before. I was more used to their cheerful faces winking and smiling at me in our get-together parties. It was strange, "I don't know... what do you think is babaji's age?"
"I think he is eighty three years old."
"He has been sick in the past few days, hasn't he?" she didn't reply, thought the rough texture of the seat was more interesting than my question.
The night was still dark; the street light was flickering...
Mom came and sat next to me; she was pale and tensed, "Ma, where are we going?"
"Bhaiya, Defence colony!" The driver started the engine and soon we were travelling through the empty roads of Meerut cantonment area.
The night was silent and so were we.


Everyone was awake in Nani's house also. It is a big house unlike the defence quarters we lived in, with its own veranda, terrace and a garden. The first thing which I did was peeked inside Babaji's room; he was there... on his big wooden bed, his eyes closed and mouth wide open. He was snoring, so I gave a sigh of relief.
He was the eldest person in the family. He was old and crooked but pleasant and warm. He was so old that he wore two spectacles, one to read newspaper and the other to look at people walking on the road.
All uncles along with the aunties came in their cars. Nani asked Vrinda and me to go in the middle room, "You both will not come out till the time you are asked to."
"But Nani, what happened?" I asked.
She went out of the room without answering my question. Vrinda started crying, she said, "I overheard Mama telling Nani that papa has been shot and he is in the hospital."
"What? ... But then, he will be fine, right?" Of course! He had been admitted in the hospital before, when he was down with jaundice. Was that a reason enough to cry...?
The night was still silent...
Standing behind the door next to the drawing room, I looked at my mother sitting on a huge bed-cum-sofa, clad in a simple light-blue cotton suit without a dupatta. Her large forehead had a frown, her dark brown eyes motionless, her hair tied into a pony-tail and her lips reticent. Her gaze shifted to Rishi mama as he entered the room, he stood at the entrance looking at her, and then shook his head in disappointment. I didn't know what it meant, something...that broke my mother's silence and made her cry.
I went back to the middle room crying for an unknown reason. Lying next to my fast asleep sister, my thoughts were flooded with sweet memories of my father. As I observed the rotary motion of the fan, my thoughts made my lips twitch into a smile. It was only two months back from that day when he came home for holidays; he had been as lively as ever. My father was taller than my mother, fair, broad-shouldered and in good shape. He was good at everything. From swimming to making paranthas and from driving a car to making my assignment charts. He was good in Mathematics also but never had the patience to teach me BODMAS...I planned to perfect myself in it before he came home the next time. He had a moustache, neither too long nor too short, which he never allowed me to touch, would bite my finger to punish me for having such evil thoughts. Hair on his head was like bushes around an empty land. He told me he lost them because once he wore someone else's cap. Still I loved the way he used to comb them with utmost care. I fell in love with him the day I saw him walking towards me in his Army uniform, through the school corridor on Parents and Teachers Meeting. His smile touched his eyes and everyone's heart. He had a hearty laugh which Vrinda and I could hear even when he was one block away from home, in a party in Menon uncle's house. Oh! How he loved socializing. Yet behind his dynamism was his gentleness, which showed in the way he carried me around on his shoulders and the way he played with my fingers when he held my hand....
I woke up with a start, disappointed... I was holding my sister's hand as my head rested on her lap. We were on the backseat of a white Tata Sumo which belonged to Arun Chacha. Through the window I could see the trees passing by at the crack of dawn. As I straightened my back to get a proper view of my surroundings, the current of air unsettled my uncombed hair over my face. That's why I never liked them short. Mom would cut them as soon as they started touching my shoulders. She was sitting on the middle seat along with Nani and Rishi Mama. I couldn't see her face because she had covered her head with her dupatta, something she always did whenever she met my father's family members. Arun chacha was on the driver's seat with a very grim expression on his face. I questioned myself whether I should greet him in my usual cheerful manner, and then decided against it as everyone chose to be serious about the whole issue. He responded to it with a nod.
I was curious,
"Where are we going? Aren't we supposed to go to school?" I asked my sister in whispers.
"We are going to Delhi. Mom said it's ok if we don't go to school today."
"But I have my science unit test today. The teacher will not take it again!!"
"Shut up! We have reached Modinagar, in another one hour we will be in Delhi. Stop bugging me and please go back to sleep."
I would have been happier missing my Mathematics paper instead of Science. That was the subject I studied most for. Helplessly I looked outside... the roads were empty, maybe because it was still 5 ‘o' clock in the morning. All the shops were closed except for few Dhabas with Pepsi and Coca-cola hoardings around them. I so badly wanted one but didn't dare ask anyone. Instead I just asked for water and went back to sleep after drinking it.
We reached Delhi around 6:00 am. Dadi's house is in Mahipalpur opposite Indira Gandhi airport. As we were driving on the highway, one airplane took off and went right over our heads. I had always been fascinated by them because of the amount of noise they made. In another five minutes we entered the small lanes we always took to reach the house. These lanes are not meant for claustrophobics. Only three people could walk abreast at a time, and even then they would have to be careful to avoid stepping into the small, open gutters on either side. I had always admired Arun chacha for his driving skills because if I was in his place I might have got stuck on the first turn.
All our relatives were already there in dadi's house, waiting for our arrival. As soon as we entered, Vrinda and I were showered with kisses and hugs but somehow they were more out of concern than fondness.
The house was huge, with a veranda in the centre surrounded by the main part of the house which had two rooms at the ground level and one room on the top, another room, a kitchen and a bathroom. As soon as we entered our room, I asked my mom, "Ma! What's happened?"
"Beta, papa has been shot while fighting with the militants. He is in the hospital. His operation is going on."
"But is he fine? Why can't the doctor take out the bullet and put a white bandage on it?"
"Yes, he is fine. Still we are enquiring if it is anything serious."
"Does this mean he will come home on leave till the time he gets better?"
"...I don't know..."
Of course! He would come, I thought. And then I would have taken care of him like he did when I had viral fever.
As the day progressed, no news came about my father's operation. My sister had gone with our cousins to their home in the neighbourhood. I didn't go because I didn't feel like leaving mother alone between so many people, especially the ones who came and talked about my father being immortal. There were also others who were not happy about the fact that my father had only two daughters. I just sat by my mother as people came one by one, cried and showed grief over such a mishap. But my mother was quiet, maybe because she knew that he was fine. Maybe she was too tired to tell them.
Another day passed by and still I had no idea of what was going on.
The next morning, as Vrinda and I were eating breakfast, Mom called us in the room. I felt a knot in my stomach. How did she come to know? So the brat went and told her. I knew I shouldn't have slapped my cousin Sameer, but he asked for it.
The night before that day, Sameer and I were sleeping with Dadi in her room. As Dadi started snoring, he asked me in whispers, "Dolly didi, now you, Vrinda didi and Taiji will come and stay with us in Delhi?"
I laughed at the absurdity of his question, "Why will we do that when we have our home in Meerut?"
"But now that Tauji has gone to God's home, where will you go?"
"Stop talking crap! He is not going anywhere because he is coming home on medical leave. Now please go to sleep."
"No he isn't, because he is dead!"
In the darkness of the room, I aimed at his cheek and slapped him hard. Dadi stopped snoring but didn't wake up. I had enough time to react as Sameer always cried in a step-by-step manner. First, he would close his eyes tightly. Then, his mouth would open and finally, came the cry, increasing in decibels per second. So I gagged his mouth with my hand before he woke the whole household. I pleaded desperately, "Shh...Shh...Sorry! Sorry! Please don't cry. What do you want...? I will buy you a Frooti tomorrow." My bribe did the trick as no wailing sound came from his throat. He kept on sobbing for the next five minutes after which he went to sleep. I just hoped that he wouldn't complain about me to my mom.
But he did. And now I had to go through one hour of moral lecture on ‘How to behave with your cousins!'
Vrinda and I entered the room. Mom was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front. I went and sat on her left side as Vrinda sat on the right. I was ready to accept my fault and say sorry when suddenly Mom started talking, slowly and carefully, it seemed she had practised it many times before,
"Vrinda, Jyoti... the night before yesterday, I received a call from your father's unit in Kupwara. An officer told me that your father was shot in an encounter with the militants after which he died. I didn't believe them and hoped maybe it was someone else. So I asked them to confirm it."
"So, what did they say?" Vrinda asked watchfully.
Mom continued, "Yesterday, Colonel Guman called me. He confirmed it... which means that your father is now dead."
I was too stunned to react as the last word registered my mind. I looked at my sister; her big eyes were fixed on my mother's face as if waiting for her to say something more. Her eyes became red as big tears rolled down her cheek without her blinking them away. She was shocked. She started shaking her head in denial, "No...No, No Mom, No!"
Mom didn't say anything. She just hugged her as she cried out her grief. Even I cried this time, not because I was supposed to but because I realized that the person I used to wait for in my holidays, will not come to see me anymore. I cried because this wasn't supposed to happen to my family. I cried because I never felt like crying like this before...
After a short while, we went to the airport to receive my father's body. Three of us were waiting for its arrival in a dingy room, which had no furniture other than three chairs for us to sit on.
Suddenly, out of nowhere some people with a video-camera and mike entered the room. They were from Zee News. I didn't expect all this. Before I could overcome my shock, someone blinded me with white flash. Then I heard a voice in the background question my mother, "How do you feel right now?" I felt offended. How dare this voice ask something which even I wouldn't have asked my mom. I stared at my feet as my mother answered all the necessary questions. Dadaji came in time to rescue us from the blinding flashes.
He led us to an open area, where everyone including other officers from my father's unit waited to pay respect to him. The sky was cloudy and showed no sign of sunshine. The Army band played its drums and trumpets as four officers in uniform, carried my father's coffin on their shoulders, and marched towards the centre of the open space. The wooden coffin was closed. I couldn't imagine my father inside it. Because inside the coffin was a person who played hide and seek with me only to be found in his own cupboard...
They wrapped the coffin with the national flag, shot bullets in the air and saluted him. So did I.
I looked at my grandfather. I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I had never seen him cry before. I looked away while he brushed the offending cheek with his hand. I still couldn't imagine it was his son inside that wooden coffin...
Before cremation, I had put a garland on his body, I took it as an excuse to touch his moustache, and I almost thought that he will bite my finger. But he was lying in front of me, his face was cold, eyes closed and it held no glow to make me feel his warmth. When he was cremated, I realized I lost a precious jewel, I lost a friend, I lost a wonderful companion, I lost an officer, I lost my mother's husband, but most of all I lost... MY FATHER!!


Didi: referring to elder sister.
Mama: referring to mother's brother.
Babaji: referring to mother's grandfather.
Nani: referring to mother's mother.
Chacha: referring to father's brother.
Dadi: referring to father's mother.
Taiji: referring to father's elder sister-in-law.
Tauji: referring to father's elder brother.
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