Adios - part 02

    

There is no direct train to my village; I have reached the nearby town by train and boarded a bus. The ride starts on a highway and I decide to nap while the road is smooth. It will be evening by the time I reach home.

My village rātapādu is famous for arts - especially calligraphies. Most people here are calligraphers, as well as farmers. Even though I learnt calligraphy in childhood, I lost touch at later stages as I moved away from home. I can't say my adulthood was great.

However, my childhood went smoothly, and credit must be given to my elder brother. Even though I grew up without a father, my brother stood like a father figure. He has been a hard-working person since his childhood. The whole village likes him and respects him. At first, he used to be a tough-to-convince and clock-like-disciplined coach. No questioning of elders, no playing after school, no sleeping at noons. But with time, he became softer and gave me more freedom.

Being a teacher, he identifies potential in children. He made many kids join the school and attend it regularly and bore the fee all by himself. He also made Rahim join the school, who later became my best friend. We used to roam throughout the village, mess up things and irritate the villagers. When you have a big brother to back you up, it's natural that you become a little arrogant...

My nap is disturbed due to the start of bumpy roads, which indicate that the home is near. I wonder how a village that paved the path to a language is not given proper roads. With some more kilometres left to reach home, the bus stops. A few passengers are deboarded and a person with a pad and paper in hand is boarded. He starts checking the tickets and ends up in the row before mine. He looks at two teenagers sitting by the window and asks for tickets. One guy shows it immediately, while the other hesitates.

"Where is your ticket?" the man asks with a furious face.

"Sir, I just now boarded.." the kid's voice trembles.

"How dare you lie?? I am the only person who boarded here !!" Understanding that that kid does not have a ticket, he shouts "PAY THE FINE AMOUNT!!"

"I.. don't.. have any money, sir."

Come on, isn't that obvious? How can the kid pay the fine when he couldn't buy the ticket?

"Ask someone!! I don't know what you do. Pay the amount or get off the bus!!" 

Accepting the situation, he stands up. But, before he takes a step, the man shouts again - "Where are you going? huh? PAY ME THE FINE!!"

OKAYY!! That's enough. I can't watch the kid getting abused. I am about to get the money from my purse. But the other kid stops him and hands him the fine amount. The man looks at that kid and asks "Oh, do you have that much money, huh?"

"Yes, I do." The kid does have some guts. I smile at the reply.

While the man is about to say something, I interrupt him, "Can you quickly do your work and get off the bus? We got things to do." The staff growls and starts to fill out a form. The other kid turns back, nods and blinks with a smile. As I nod back, I am reminded of the person who does exactly like that.

The bus starts, and the conductor reaches the back of my row and says in a low voice - "In the old days, people who did not possess tickets were taken to the magistrate; he would then sentence them to imprisonment or leave with a penalty. These kids are lucky as they are just being asked to get off the bus. I think it's better to stick to the old system, otherwise, these fellows continue behaving recklessly." 

After some time, the bus stops near home. As I get down, I tell the conductor "The old system was changed because it hurts more than it changes. We need a different approach to change the present generation of reckless fellows, sir."

I am not the only person who deboards the bus - the kid who helped the other kid also gets down. Surprisingly, we start walking in the same direction - the road opposite the stop. The kid is tall and well-built. He is walking quickly.

"Hi!" I say as I catch up to him.

"Hi!" he slows down.

I ask for his name, and he replies "Datta."

"My name is Vijay." I say, "You live nearby?"

"Yes", we approach a T-junction. 

Datta says, "have to go to the right."

"Oh, I should go to the left. We shall meet another time."

"Yeah, sure. You can find me in the nearby studio."

"Studio? Photo studio you mean?"

He smiles, "No, it's a different one. We produce calligraphic fonts. My mother started it recently."

"Calligraphy! That sounds great!" I pause for a moment and ask, "Can I know your mother's name?"

"S.."

"Hey, Datta!" says Rahim, coming from the right. Even though he has a bigger tummy now, his large face over the small body remained the same.

"Hey Rahim!" 

"Sorry, I thought to come and receive but was stuck with some work," Rahim tells me.

"Thank God that you have arrived! Otherwise, how could I have reached home?"

Rahim laughs, "How are you doing, man!", we go for a tight hug.

"Yeah, good. You?"

"As always, great!"

Rahim looks at Datta, "We have to go, bye!"

"Bye, Rahim!"

As we walk home, I stop Rahim, "Hey, wait..."

"What happened?"

"Is she here?"

He takes a pause. "No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

***

"Welcome home! Finally, after many years!" wishes my uncle as I enter the gate. He is the one who called at my office on the other day. "Hey, take the bag," he says to a kid nearby; I smile at the kid and signal not to come. I wash the legs at the hand pump.

Uncle comes near me, "He is in..."

"Where is Amma?" I ask. 

"In her room only, as usual," he says, surprised.

I nod and go inside the house. Our home has a central open area surrounded by rooms. Most furniture is built with wood. It has two floors above the ground level and each level has eight rooms. My mother's room is on the ground floor, the second to the right after entering the front entrance.

I enter her room; She now has completely white hair and uses the lumbar belt. She does not see me and is reading something, sitting on a chair with a table in front. I stand in front of her.

"Oh, you still remembered me!" she talks without lifting her head.

"I told you to come and stay with me. You did not budge. You chose him over me."

She takes the walking stick beside her and hits me. "Ouch! Ma, that hurts!" I say and sit on my knees. She looks at me and smiles. "How are you doing?", she asks as she rubs her hand on my cheek.

"Better. How are you doing? How's the knee pain?"

"We can talk later, Vijju. Go and see him."

I roll my eyes. "Will do it later. First, you say." 

"Fine. Don't go to him. Just sit with me here." 

"Okay, okay. I go now; We will talk later. I have to talk to you."

"We have brought him down. Two rooms next to this."

I enter his room. The room resembles a hospital in sight and smell. There he is, without movement, covered with wires, surrounded by machines, lying on a bed, eyes closed. His wife, Meena, is sitting next to him. I walk up to him and she stands.

"How are you doing?" I ask her.

"Fine."

"How is he..?" I pause.

"The condition is unstable. He can't respond to us. But he can hear. A few days before he asked for you. That's the last time he spoke." I nod.

"Well, I will leave it to you two." she walks and stops at the door, "He is not what he used to be. He has changed." She leaves the room as I sit in the chair next to him.

"How's your day, Vijju? Did you learn anything new?" he used to ask in the evenings after school. That's what he cared about, whether I learnt anything new. The burden was on me to report him something. If I had learnt multiple things in a day, I would split to use it across multiple days.

One evening, I ran out of things to tell so I confessed a truth "I learnt how to forge a signature."

He was shocked. But, he maintained his composure and asked softly "Mm... Whose signature did you forge?"

"that of Rahim's father." I was partly relieved to speak the truth.

"Why so?"

"Well, he did not get good marks in a subject; He feared his father would beat him. So I signed it." I was trying to calculate my moves. Where was the stick that used to be there beside him? Which objects near him were of potential to thrash me? 

But, to my surprise, he asked "Ohh, is it? Progress cards arrived today? Give me, I will sign yours."

"Well... no need of it, actually."

"What?"

"I have to be sure I can forge right? So..." with the confidence that his stick was missing, I said, "I first forged your signature and the result was perfect!"

"Is it? That's very nice", he said with a smile which quickly turned to anger as he rose, "How dare you forge my signature!?" and picked up the stick from behind. 

I learnt that one shouldn't flex one's talents everywhere. The next day, I saw him talking to Rahim's father. Since then, I have not forged again.

You have no idea how happy I felt on the day the stick was broken. I smile as I remember those days and look at my brother. Illness has the potential to undo all the good things we do for our bodies; It takes away all the peace we enjoy without acknowledging it. His face is now barely recognizable, and tough to look at for a longer time.

I move closer to him, "So, here I am, as you asked. Mm... Tough, right? These sounds, these wires. Let's start the talk the usual way. Let me ask the question on your behalf.", I try to imitate his bass-voice, "What did you learn today?" (I hope he does not get offended), I continue, "Well, my dear brother, the world is harsh, but also there is a place for hope. Our uncle is still the same guy - sticky and obsessive; did you write in your will that he gets a share of the assets? Our village got a studio! That really sounds interesting. Do you know about it? Who started it? The kid was about to say but Rahim interrupted us. Yeah, I will check the studio tomorrow."

My brother's right index finger starts moving. I call out my sister-in-law, she comes inside and says he does that whenever he identifies familiar people. "I hope he feels a bit soothed now. Thanks for coming,"  she says.

"No no, no need to thank; I think I am done for today," I tell her and she nods.

"Take care, brother," I say to him and turn to her, "If there's any emergency or any help you need, please reach out to me - I will be taking the room after that of my mother, or you can call me. You have my number right?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, for taking care of him. We all owe you." she looks exhausted but manages to smile.

***

I wake up to the alarm clock. It is the clock I used to wake up to - I am happy that it still works with the same precision and loudness. I brush and prepare for a morning walk. I grab the backpack with the water bottle, put on the shoes, reach the ground floor and see my Uncle. 

"Oh, why's that backpack? Going to school?" 

I laugh, "It has a water bottle, and no, I am not going to school; just going out for a little walk."

"Oh, exercise huh? Why do you roam and waste time? You can help with housework."

"Sure I will help. This thing is just a habit. But if you keep talking to me like this, I am afraid that your time gets wasted."

"Fine." He goes inside with a disappointed face. We can ignore him, he is forever disappointed in me.

The mornings in villages take you to zen mode - no noises, just the sounds of birds you listen to; there won't be gadgets, but people you look at. I start on the route that covers the street Datta pointed out yesterday. As I walk, I greet the people and have a small talk.

Finally, I arrive at the street. I start to look at both sides for a banner or board that tells about any studio and recognize one after crossing half the street. I walk close to a building that has a board on it. It reads "Pradira studios". There is something written down below, I go closer and see what that is, and I stop.

    After I crossed the teenage, my brother's wedding happened. I had to take care of the guests; as usual, the elders explored me as much as possible. On the wedding day, I had no idea of the passage of time. Post meals, my mother called and asked me to freshen up - only then I realized I was looking like a bag of rags.

On my way to the changing room, there was a strong scent of sweets in the nearby kitchen. I sneaked into the room and saw trays of various sweets and snacks; No one was observing me (at least, that's what I thought), so I took a piece of laddoo and was about to eat. 

"Heyy! What are you doing? Don't touch them!"

I heard a girl saying, and I turned towards the direction of the voice. A tall girl with a dusky skin tone, wearing a green half-saree, and braided hair up to the waist, was looking at me seriously. She turned to the other side when someone called her, "Sarojini!"

**end of part 02**