The Turnabout

Synopsis: Shrishti, Vihaan’s Didi , the elder sister, his best friend for as long back as he can remember, means life to him. The flashpoint of their relationship for Vihaan is the hospitalization of Didi for the delivery of her baby. In the backdrop of this event, ‘The Turnabout’ is a journey of evolution of brother-sister’s relationship from innocence to maturity, and eventually to a harsh reality.

The train came to a rattling halt, waking up Vihaan suddenly. He sat up on the upper-berth and asked a lady sitting by the window, “What station is it?”
It was a question asked more out of curiosity than genuineness.
It was a 36-hour long journey which had started for Vihaan a few hours back. Final exams at the college, where he would be completing his MBA soon, had left him feeling tired and exhausted. In spite of being low on energy, he felt excited, excited thinking about meeting Shrishti, his Didi , who was in the final days of her pregnancy. There was a lot to share with his elder sister.
As the train rolled on, Vihaan started to feel relaxed.
15 year old memories started flashing in his mind. He was a 5-year old baby then. Didi , elder to him by ten years, would look after him when their parents would go out for a party with friends. Initially, he would cry incessantly but Didi always had tricks up her sleeve to handle the little child.
She would feed him food, sing songs to him and tell stories about the family of Sun, Moon and stars.
“Do you know that the Sun and Moon are like Mummy and Papa? And that the stars are their children?” she questioned generating much curiosity in Vihaan.
Little Vihaan, seated on his tri-cycle, would hear in admiration.
“You know Sun is big, like Papa. It works hard through the day and goes home in the evening. Moon is like Mamma. It comes out in the night along with their children, the stars!”
“But why don’t they all come out together?” Vihaan would ask.
“Oh..ho! I told you na, Sun is very big, like Papa! They are behind him. We can’t see them,” said the girl as she fed a spoon of Dal-Chaawal to him.
Vihaan would nod in amazement.
“Didi , did you know? One day I saw the Moon along with the Sun in the evening. Were they out together for shopping?”
“Yes, my sweet little brother.”
“Then where were the stars at that time?”
“Oh-ho! The stars were at home na? There was a star whose name was Vihaan and another one, his Didi , Shrishti, were hearing stories from one other.”
Vihaan was oblivious that the dinner plate was empty and that he was at the bed now.
“Where do all of them go when it rains? Do they fight with each other?” Vihaan asked innocently.
“Smart kiddo! That I would tell you later. Now close your eyes and let me sing you the rain song.”
Vihaan nodded, smiled and closed his eyes. She started humming the song. Soon after, Vihaan fell asleep.

The train running slow and steady was passing through the fields. Vihaan smiled to himself remembering those times. He thought to himself that tomorrow when he meets Didi he is going to tell the same story that she would tell him in his childhood. He had always wanted to ask her the answer to “Where do all of them go when it rains?”.
He smiled and thought that he would get to ask her very soon.
He thought of the pains that a woman undergoes during the delivery procedure. They said it’s the biggest shake-up for a woman.
He remembered those unforgettable knocks at the door of his sister’s room. She would close herself inside and cry incessantly. He would keep knocking patiently on the door saying, “Didi , please open the door. I plead! Please stop crying.”
But then this pain would follow the birth of a new-born whom he was eager to see, he told himself. He imagined playing with her. Early on in the pregnancy, he had prophesied that Didi would give birth to a baby-girl.
The train passed a kilometer-wide river and the rumbling of the wheels reverberating from the bridge reminded him of the troublesome times Didi had to undergo when deciding her life-partner.
A few years earlier, on one of the monsoon days, when the Sun appeared to shine brighter than ever, it was conveyed to Vihaan that his sister had expressed the desire to marry a close friend, Hari, with whom she went to school.
Vihaan thought high of Hari.
Shristi, a vibrant and vivacious lady, would make friends quickly wherever she would go: school, college, park or neighborhood. She was tall, talkative, healthy, wore no make-up and was one attractive woman who any man would turn around to have another look.
Many of her friends, girls and guys, visited her often. However, she would often ask Vihaan what he thought of her friends, especially boys.
“What do you think of him?” Shrishti asked Vihaan standing in the balcony, pointing out a friend who got on his motor-cycle after leaving their place.
At such juncture, Vihaan being a keen observer, would have some insight to offer.
“He is a smart fellow but there is something unusual about him.”
Shristi looked at him, puzzled.
“Hmm..Didi , It’s difficult to tell. I have a feeling that he is doing things for you because you are a girl,” he would take a pause, and continue, “That other guy, who calls you ‘Sris-ti’, is better off that way but he also seem to be hiding something.”
She laughed loudly at the imitation of ‘Sris-ti’ by Vihaan.
“He thinks women are better off as housewives,” Shristi chipped in.
“Doofus! Kick him out of your life,” he yelled.
On another occasion, she brought up the topic of another friend from pre-school. He left the town early on in her life but, after a gap of fifteen years, was back in town for employment. At that juncture, she was struggling for a direction in her career. This old friend would advise her on what skills she should possess to find a good placement.
As with every other guy in Didi ’s life, Vihaan doubted the intentions of this friend from pre-school.
“He seems to be hiding something. He is attempting to find time to meet you in absence of everyone,” Vihaan sounded definitive and sure about his assertion.
“Well, there are many things that we, as adults, can’t talk when family is around.”
The discussion ended there but Vihaan wanted the pre-school friend to stay in history and not bother Didi now.
Much later, when enormous pressure mounted on Shrishti to get married, she blurted out Hari’s name. This reached Vihaan only via his mother.
“What do you think of Hari?” his mother asked him on a day when, unlike any other day, she looked considerably relaxed.
“As in?”
“As a match for your sister.”
“It would be a ‘Perfect Match’!”
He looked away for some time and remembered his interaction with Hari. Ten years of age difference between them never hampered their conversations. Hari would never talk nonsense to Vihaan. And more than often, he would share with Vihaan events occurring at his workplace and his future plans.
After a prolonged silence, Vihaan said, “He is a self-made and an honest man. I have observed him when he visits us. He will never hurt Didi and will take good care of her.”
He continued, “Once I went to his place, he was playing with a few children. He is good with children too. I bet he would be a good father, too.”
Vihaan went a step further and predicted in excitement, “Later on in life when they will have a family, I am telling, you, as a mother-in-law would be proud of him.”
The mother blushed for a moment and felt both amused and relieved.
Vihaan’s approval was relayed to the concerned parties and the stage was set for the grand event, Shrishti’s wedding with Hari.
All through the marriage, Vihaan was elated. He felt that he was the centre of attraction during his Didi ’s marriage. He would talk to his friends about her. Didi choosing her friend of over ten years to be her husband, was something he wanted to shout out to the world.
He thought of Hari as the best partner for her. He believed that they both would be happy. Their friendship turning into a love-relationship was a thing he wanted to emulate in his life. To him, friendship and bonding were the absolute premise for love.
The train halted at the foothills of a mountain. The calmness of the valley with mountains overlooking the train, made it feel as if everything around, along with the train, had come to standstill. Vihaan mumbled to himself, “She was always checking my opinions. May be, at times, manipulating them as well.”

In his mid-teens, at a coaching institute, Vihaan felt attracted to a short, quiet, dark-complexioned girl, Pari.
All through adolescence, Vihaan’s go-to-person was Didi . Be it Math, Science, Social Studies, conflict with friends, he would go to Shrishti for help or advice. Unlike Didi , Vihaan was choosy with friends and as a result had hardly anyone with whom he would share his feelings. Didi was his best and only friend.
He brought up the topic of Pari with Didi .
“I have to share something with you, today,” he told her in amazement, “I like one girl at the evening classes. It just feels nice looking at her, being around her.”
“Just go and speak to her.”
“I don’t know. There is no reason to speak to her and I don’t want to make it obvious by going up to her and striking a meaningless conversation.”
“It’s OK. She wouldn’t think bad of you. Just ask for some notes from the previous class or may be ask her opinion on a problem in Physics,” Didi suggested as Vihaan’s eyes gleamed with happiness.
“Is she good at studies?” she enquired casually.
“I don’t know. She looks attentive in the class. She dresses in bright colours though.”
Shrishti couldn’t help laughing.
“Just go and speak to her.”
Shrishti got married and moved out of the city. Vihaan got an admit to a premier management institute. The distance, however, didn’t change one fact for Vihaan, that of Didi being his best friend.
When he got to know that Didi was pregnant and had come home for a few months for this phase of her life, he bunked college, travelled to his hometown for a couple of days with the sole purpose of meeting her.
“Wow,” is what he said when he saw Didi considerably plump from what he remembered from his past.
“Engineer from IIT or Doctor from AIIMS?” was his first question to her.
“You be his/her role-model. Focus and determination for one’s career is something one must learn from you,” she replied smiling.
Vihaan swelled in pride. He told her that he has read it that the moods, thoughts and actions of a pregnant lady have a profound effect on the attitudes and preferences of the child in her womb.
“Remember! Abhimanyu knew how to enter the Chakravyuha because he heard the story from Krishna when he was in his mother’s womb,” he asked her ecstatically but continued without really seeking a response, ”You should be reading books these days. Let me go to the market and get a few story books for you.”
Shrishti felt touched.
“May be get some academic books as well,” she told him. She was reminded of her own career, the mediocrity of it and the hardships she faced at her work because of her lack of focus.
“Oh ho! Worry not on that front! It would be a baby girl. She would be the best in her class and will go places in life. I have even thought of a name for her. She would be Sampoorna, one who is complete!”
Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew the incompleteness of Didi ’s life. The pain associated with her mediocre performance in school and the burden of expectations of the parents weighed much more than the happiness her soulmate brought to her life.
In pursuit of his career, he wasn’t much aware of the events in her life after marriage but in those two days at home, he hoped, but never made it explicit, that the to-be-born child would achieve what Didi couldn’t manage to. She would be the ideal child that the family could ever imagine.
Vihaan went to the market and brought books ranging from Amar Chitra Katha, Tintin to Marvin comic strips. He read out a few to Didi .
He spent half a day, meticulously decorating Didi ’s room with pictures of flowers and posters of cute little children.
In a matter of two days, her whole room was filled with flowers of nearly all the colours.
He spent a few hours with Didi talking positive ideas in life. He elaborated his ideas of how a beautiful life and a wonderful planet is waiting to welcome Sampoorna into this world.
The day Vihaan was leaving, he held Didi and asked her to take care of his little princess.
Shrishti couldn’t hold back. She could barely say, “I don’t have much complaints from life when I have a brother like you,” and burst out in tears.
Both hugged each other for long as the parents simply looked on.
For weeks after Vihaan and Shrishti held each other and cried, Vihaan would call her up and enquire about her well-being.

The long train journey had come to an end and Vihaan stood at the railway platform at his hometown. He switched on his phone and found out that his sister had been taken to the labour-room for the delivery of the baby.
“All is gonna go well today,” Vihaan told himself, “I will ask her the answer to ‘Where do all of them go when it rains?’ I have a lot of memories to share with Didi . I have a few secrets to tell her, too.”
As Vihaan hired an auto-rickshaw, he smiled to himself, “Today, Didi will come to know how I and Hari jijaji hatched the whole plot to convince both families for the marriage. This has been a long-kept secret between us.”
When he reached the hospital, he found a casual-looking, emotionless Hari at the entrance of the hospital.
Frantically he asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing! It’s a girl,” he replied nonchalantly.
Vihaan smiled victoriously.
“Is Didi OK?”
“Yes, perfectly fine. They gave her some painkillers and sleeping pills. She is asleep.”
“What’s the room number she is in?”
“3rd floor, Room no. 302. You carry on, I will be there just after you.”
Vihaan calmed down and proceeded. He rehearsed once again what all he had thought over this morning. He searched for a chit of paper in his pockets in which he had written a poem for Didi and the new-born. He now placed it in his breast pocket. It should be quickly accessible, he reasoned.
He entered the room and saw Didi sleeping in the bed. He sensed a desperation in him to speak to her. Next to her was the little baby sleeping peacefully. He looked at her in awe.
“Shhhh!” his mother, sitting next to the bed, whispered before Vihaan could speak.
“Are they both OK?” he enquired gently.
“Yes. Everything went perfectly,” the mom sounded composed and at peace, “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
“Undoubtedly, yes! She is my niece!” Vihaan mumbled as he observed the new-born, a first time in his life. She looked tiny to him.
As Vihaan attempted to touch the baby, Didi opened her eyes. Right in the direction of her vision stood Vihaan. She appeared drowsy and didn’t heed to Vihaan’s presence.
Gathering her senses as she tried to sit up, she closed her eyes and screamed at the top of her voice, “Haarrrriiiiiiiiii!.....it is paining!”
Hari hurried into the room calling out “Shrishti” and stepped forward to hold her. He called out for the nurse.
Vihaan stood dumbstruck, as if he had been hit by a thunderbolt. Didi had called out for someone else when he unmistakably stood right in front of her.
He stared long at Hari and then stepped aside. Walking out of the room gradually, he reached out to the chit of paper in his breast-pocket and crushed it in his palms, while Hari stroked his Didi behind him.