|
Hurrah!
I was free! For two glorious months I wouldn't have to see
school again or have nightmares about Miss Lal's notorious cane.
Visions of cool glasses of lemonade, exciting books, endless
games of cricket and dadi's long storytelling sessions began to
fill my head with delight. I reached home with a huge smile and
a terribly dusty uniform. Dadi was there waiting for me as she
normally did in the drawing room, busy knitting. My dadi never
really stops knitting. It doesn't bother her whether its summer
or winter. Most of the time she just sits in a corner, muttering
to her self with her knitting under her nose. It is best to
avoid her when she's muttering with a small frown on her
forehead, because she's usually reciting the hanuman chalisa.
dadi prays a lot; especially since mummapapa died. As an
unwritten rule in the house, mummapapa are not mentioned. At
least not if she can help it. Anyway, when dadi saw my uniform,
she gave an exasperated sigh and started off with a very
different kind of muttering, "Like father, like son! Can't you
ever stay clean? Your father used to be the same way....always
off to some place, catching frogs in the rain, playing
Chor-Police.." and she rambled away into her secret magic world
of memories, that I only got tiny glimpses of.
|
|
You see I
never really knew my mummapapa, they died in a plane
crash when I was two and I've been living with my dadi
ever since. I wish I could ask her more about them but I
know it makes her sad, so I don't. But no matter how
hard I try to forget, the gnawing feeling in my heart
keeps growing bigger and bigger. Today I went to Ravi's
house and stared at his photographs again. His folks
have photographs in their drawing room. All of them are
laughing into the camera, their eyes shining and their
arms around each other. A curious sense of longing
filled my tummy.
And I
found myself trying to fit myself in there somewhere in
a little corner of the photograph. But no matter how
hard I tried, there just wasn't enough space for me. But
on my way back home, I suddenly remembered. With my
heart hammering against my chest I ran the whole way and
shut the door behind me. I knew it! I had my own family
photograph too.
|
I thought of a picture of a little baby with a loving mumma
papa smiling into the camera. But then my smile did not live
very long. "Oh no!" I thought "it's in the attic!?
the attic was a horrendously, horribly petrifying place. It
was full of old discarded things that had lived out their days
of glory in the house. Now the only things keeping them company
were rats, spiders and cockroaches and other creepy crawlies.
I let out an involuntary shudder. But I needed my photograph.
My family. I squared
my shoulders with determination. With a heavy heart I went to
dadi's mandir and peeked under the carpet. Coins and coins lay
there. I knew dadi had been saving up to buy a new mandir and
she almost had enough. I took the money carefully and filled
it into my soon bulging pockets.
I went to the Aggarwal store and bought chocolates with all
the coins. I hated to see dadi sad. But a mans' got to do what
a mans got to do. I couldn't bring myself to eat them so I gave
them to Ravi who then told everyone that I was his best friend
in the whole world, but I wasn't even paying attention. I knew
back home dadi would be waiting. She asked me, "Do you
know where my mandir money is?" "Yes dadi!" I
said "I took it because I wanted chocolates and you never
give me any money. All you care about is your stupid mandir!
I hate you!" I was very shocked at myself but I hoped that
I had done enough. dadi didn't look angry or even upset. She
just suddenly looked very, very old. She quietly asked me to
follow her to the attic. I knew she would lock me up there for
atleast an hour. If today was any other day, I would have begged
and pleaded for her to forgive me. But today I was a man on
a mission. I just walked in bravely and heard dadi lock the
door behind me and walk away.
|
|
Soon my eyes adjusted to
the dark and I could see rats scuttling to and fro. I
tried to ignore them. I got down to work. I opened the
huge drum and with my small flashlight began my quest. I
was about to reach the end of the drum. I had given up
hope of ever finding my family photograph, when suddenly
I actually saw it. The familiar silver photo frame. I
pulled it out with awe. I used my grubby hands to clean
it. My eyes grew wide with disbelief when I saw that it
was empty. Slowly my tears fell down onto the empty
frame and my sobs filled the attic with despair. Below
the attic in the drawing room, dadi sat as usual with
her knitting and her hanuman chalisa.
|
She opened the hanuman chalisa and peered down
at the photograph nestling comfortably between its pages. A tear
drop trickled down her cheek and made its way to the little baby
smiling up at his loving parents. "My family", thought dadi and
quietly wiped the tear away.
Contributing Story Teller::
Kanika
Mehrotra, just an
sometimes inspired and often disillusioned 22 year old, I love
to write and connect with thoughts and ideas that I cannot
connect with in any other way.
zazu.me@gmail.com
For more short
stories, visit Content
Writing Services India Liked
this short story? Share your comments - info@writershideout.net
|
|
