A Love Like That

It was half-past twelve in noon, but there was no dash of sun. The sky was enclosed with dark grey shades of clouds. The rain had stopped moments ago but the water was still dripping from the terrace onto the window sill. There were no hustling of winds, God wasn’t playing with hues in the sky, birds were silent in-spite of tranquil weather, frogs weren’t hopping into the pond, and nature wasn’t clicking any picture of humans from up there. It felt as if the universe too, was mourning with Anahita, while she was going through the harshest phase of her life, feeling her pain and trying to offer its shoulder to her. After a couple of minutes, she looked out of the window and observed the thick black clouds floating above her head. 

Black was her confidante. It never left her. It always was with her in the form of her tees, laptop, phone, nail paints, gadgets and whatnot. Given a chance, she would have preferred black blood instead of red! The time from dusk to dawn was her desire. She would sit all night and write until the jet black sky converted itself into tangy orange. However, presently, she had started loathing black, and night since the demise of her nani a year ago.

Today was her first death anniversary and Anahita was finding it hard to witness her in a 10x12 wooden frame. She wasn’t able to picture herself without her nani. 365 days couldn’t do much to give her an idea of life without her first parent. The moment she tried to think about it, her heartfelt heftier. Her thought process took a halt at that very moment. Honestly, she wasn’t ready to move near the epilogue of her story for her nani was the one who welcomed her character onto the screen of this world.

Her mum instructed her to keep the picture on the table which was decorated with light pink petals of rose and white hibiscus for these were her favourite flowers. Also, the petals were in contrast with the saree worn by her nani in that photograph. Cotton sarees made her look resplendent and worth gazing at! It was during that very moment that Anahita noted that this was probably only the second occasion when she was going to witness her Nani's image without her maternal father. The first one was when it was his death anniversary, three years back. To her, the two of them symbolised the love she used to read about. 

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Back story

Anahita lived with her maternal parents for her mother used to work all day, only to return when the sun took its dispensation. The relationship with her dad wasn’t something she liked to talk about. She knew that someone she could call ‘papa’ existed but it was nothing more than this. However, she never felt as if she was missing anything in her story because of her maternal mum who was her chronicler and guide. 

She was the one who was the earliest one to take her in her arms and gave her her name; her index finger was the first one which was furled by Anahita’s tiny pinkies; she was the one who used to wake up all night just to make sure that Anahita was sleeping comfortably in her lap; her wobbling hands were the firm supporter when Anahita started writing for the first time and they helped her until she became a pro in holding a pencil; she was the one to cook funny stories along with brinjals, carrots, cabbages and spinach, so that Anahita will remember the flavour of the stories and not the veggies; she was the one to cure her innumerable diseases with turmeric milk; she played the role of a friend, scholar, teacher, mother, and guardian with élan.

Their days started together and ended on the same note.

 

It was during those minutes when she used to notice the way with which her nani used to wait to hear from her nanu as he used to come late. She would keep the newspaper alongside the steel jug covered with a wooden lid, on the table. The lights of his room remained on from 5 pm as he had this opinion that lights of the house shouldn’t be off after the sunset. She would organize the bed-sheet and his book shelf neatly. She would look after everything – from his pen to shirt – before his onset.

Nanu, on the other hand, made sure to bring jalebis along with the things she would tell  him to. He knew her love for sweets especially jalebis. He had been doing so for fifty five years. Apart from this, he never made a face when he was served brinjals. He had some serious tiff with the purple coloured vegetable. But he gulped it whenever it was prepared by nani. 

He wasn’t a dramatic husband. He never shied away from doing the house chores which men loathed to do back then. He would clean and wash the floor, do the dishes when nani wasn’t well, iron his clothes and polish his shoes. He was very particular about hygiene. And so was nani – the only similar quality they had!

To Anahita, her nanu was not even close to handsome. She had told him numerous times. But, he was intelligent and her second favourite human. The first one surely was her nani. She had heard about him from her. The way she narrated about him, made Anahita feel as if he was the best creation of God. Every time she heard her nani narrate anecdotes from her fifty five year old marriage, she would close her eyes in prayers, asking God for a story like theirs. The way they used to believe in mending and forgiving; how they had full faith in their love and the way they never gave up in-spite of abundant tough times; how he tried his best to earn as much as he could and how she made it seem enough even if it wasn’t; how she would wait for four months at a stretch to receive his news and didn’t utter a single word in complaint; how they never ever mumbled ‘I love you’ but their actions meant it; the way with which they never shied away from taunting, teasing and fighting; that their love wasn’t limited to gadgets, it was real and trustworthy. 

Each time she saw them together – in pictures or in real – she felt as if she was sent a little late. However, she always wished for them to be together. She was rest assured that they didn’t need her prayers but she did it for her assurance from almighty. God never ignored her wishes as they were heartfelt and honest. Also, she only disturbed him when she had to offer her gratitude or while asking something for her favourite members.

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With each passing day, the three of them were happily growing together. Life was smiling at them until her nanu met with an accident on her twelfth birthday. He was admitted for the next two months as his backbone was injured and he had a number of bruises all around his left side and his head. Because of the injury, he had started forgetting things. He couldn’t stay conscious for too long. The doctor declared that he was going to be on the bed from then on.

Everybody stumbled at his words except nani. She sat in the same ambulance with him when he was discharged and welcomed him the same way she used to do before. Her eyes were not devoid of light. 

From then and for the next ten years, she looked after him as if she was his mother – washing his clothes and bed sheets twice a day, helping him in eating and cleansing, looking after his toilet routines, cleaning his room, making food prescribed by the doctor every two hours, and giving him medicines on time – she did it all without crinkling her nose and feeling sorry for doing the same. On countless occasions, nanu would shout and throw up things but she never raised her voice. She would go and put it at its place silently. Anahita used to get irritated because of his demeanour. During those moments, her nani would tell her that he was behaving like that because of his pain. He didn’t mean to be like that.

Maybe, she knew that she too was going to live that pain a couple of years later after his death. Maybe, she knew that he had her; but she wasn’t going to have him. Maybe, she was aware of god’s plans… the reason why she was composed all through those ten years and even after he left her.

Yes, she missed him. But didn’t utter the same until her last day.

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20th March, 2016

Anahita was in a hurry as she had to go out with her friend for attending her coaching classes. Her mum advised her to not go because of her nani’s ill health. Anahita made a face and left in a jiffy.

At 7:30 pm, she got a call from her mum that her nani’s health was deteriorating and she must come as soon as she could. Anahita was already on her way home . She reached at 8 pm and sat next to her nani who wasn’t breathing normally. Without wasting a second, she clutched her fingers. Her palms were colder. Her eyes looked stagnant and weren’t moving properly. Her mum was crying repeatedly. However, Anahita was calm. She was rubbing her palms in spite of noticing that her whole body was cold. The thought that she could leave her any minute didn’t cross her mind. All she was thinking about that very second was that she had to gift the card she had made for nani’s birthday which was on 25th March. 

Just like nanu, her nani too met with an accident while returning from a temple in 2010. As luck was supposed to have it, she too was injured the same way as him. However, she started walking after a couple of years later because of the way both Anahita and her mother looked after her. But that couldn’t happen for too long and the injury in her backbone came up again. She couldn’t get up on her own after that. 

Each day, Anahita would feed her in the morning and at noon, apart from looking after the house chores and her studies. She would sit near her all day to make her drink water every hour. She would talk to her and bring up stories, just like nani used to do when she was a kid. She learnt to make dishes nani loved eating. She would wash her clothes, helped her in sitting and never let her alone. 

They would share apples, laughter, and secrets. Anahita made sure that her nani doesn’t feel depressed. She would make nani shout at her when Anahita pretended to sleep during the day-time. She won’t eat her breakfast so that nani complained about it to her mum. She would do anything and everything she could to make her laugh. It was the laughter and tantrums that she realised that nani wanted her to be a name and a home for someone. She blessed her each day for she knew how much Anahita was doing for her. She wasn’t educated but was aware that the bond they shared was divine and that someday, she had to depart. She could see it. At 8:30 pm, everybody decided to admit her to a hospital. Anahita however, didn’t wish to leave her hands. She too wanted to go with them but her mother insisted her to stay at home. 

As always, she sat in the temple with folded hands, with a lot of hope that her nani will return unlike her nanu. Strangely, she started crying while praying. Her tears weren’t stopping. She was like that until she heard from her mother in the morning that her nani was no more.

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(Present day)

The priest was chanting some mantras, doing prayers and performing holy rites. After every couple of minutes, he was offering flowers and oblations to God. On numerous occasions, he was looking around at the sobbing faces and teary eyes. Though, there weren’t many but enough to gain his attention. One such soul amongst them was Anahita. Her hands weren’t able to lift themselves up for wiping her tears. She was amused at the fact that how nature had a habit of converting a human into a frame. 

In spite of the happenings around her, all that was going in her mind was the time she spent with her during the last six years. She saw a different lady during those months – a helpless one. She could feel what her nani was going through when she couldn’t lift her hands for quenching her thirst; when she couldn’t move her body all by herself; how helpless she might have felt when she had no one to talk to – though, that happened rarely but happened; the lady who bathed twice a day couldn’t bathe for two or three days at a stretch because her body didn’t permit her to; saree draped her since her marriage but she had to ditch the same during those days; what she would have been going through when she wasn’t able to recognise the faces surrounding her and her tastebuds bid her adieu; how she forgot incidents related to her married life; why she avoided meeting people and going out during those days… there were days when Anahita cried her heart out when she glanced at her nani. She never ever wished to see her like that. 

“Anahita, go and offer your condolences to nani.” Her mother’s voice brought her back from her aching reminiscences.

She got up and offered the flowers in front of the picture. Her eyes were closed and there was an image of her nanu and nani together. It was the photo which she saw for the first time. She silently murmured: I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop. She knew that all she was left with was – their memories. She knew that she wasn’t going to get her remedial smile and caressing touch anymore. That she was never going to hear her name in her tone. That she was never going to get her wishes before her exams. Her celebrations, triumphs and vital days were going to be incomplete from now on.

But, she was assured that nani was going to be happy in the other world if she would laugh in this world. She couldn’t feel her tears after this thought.