Last Rites

He cursed himself for setting Google map for direction; had I asked someone for direction, perhaps, I would have reached it by now, he thought out loudly.

The traffic on Kanakapura Road, outskirts of Bangalore was heavier than usual.

He was lost in thought and missed the left turn. He braked and took the car to the edge of the road, waited for nearly two minutes to make the u turn and took the dirt road.

He had to travel almost 4 kilo meters to reach the Ashram.

The old age home was basically an old farm house, duly modified. The rough Iron Gate was open and he could take his car inside and park under the tree where a hand written board proclaimed “Parking”.

He sat in the car and steadied his nerves.

It has been nearly three years that he started searching for his grandmother. Finally he found out that she had been lodged in this old age home.

He knew that he cannot risk going and meeting her directly. She will not meet nor would talk to him, he had been told.

He planned this visit almost a month ago.

First he sent donation to the old age home and after couple of interaction with the resident Manager, he asked whether he can meet some of the inmates.

The manager gladly welcomed him and when he sat on the chair in one of the rooms converted to office, he could see through the open window, lots of old men and women sitting on chairs on the lawn or under the tree or just strolling around.

His eyes searched for the old lady; the only photograph he had seen was nearly 20 years old. Has she changed drastically? Can I recognize her? He was in deep thought and couldn’t understand what the manager was asking.

“Sorry. I was thinking. Tell me sir? You were asking me something?”

The manager who himself had crossed 70 years looked at the young man. The boy was hardly had crossed 20, he thought. The young man had a very bright face and cheerful voice. He was just adorable, thought the old man.

The manager asked again. “Are you looking for someone? Your eyes are continuously looking out as if you are searching somebody.”

The boy looked at the old man and thought; the old man’s eyes missed nothing. He cleared his throat and spoke.

“No sir. Today actually is my birth day and have brought cake and some sweets and was wondering where to start. I hope I can distribute it myself to the inmates?”

The manger relaxed and spoke. “Oh? Birthday? Happy birthday by the way, how old are you? In fact, one of our old inmates’ birthday happens to be today. Let me see.” He looked around and squinted his eyes and then waved his hand. “Look. The lady with green shawl who is sitting alone under that tree towards the gate? It’s her birthday today. Go ahead, distribute sweets and if I may, please start with that lady. “

The boy looked at the lady sitting under the tree and showing mock surprise, nodded his head. He knew it was her birthday today, alright (it took lots of persuasion to find her birthday from grandfather). 

He opened the first box of sweets and offering to the manager, took the large bag containing sweets, got up and walked towards the old woman.

The long white hair had covered her face; as he went close, she lifted her hand, brushed the hair from her face and looked up.

The boy stopped, kept the bag down and slowly sat down in front of the old woman and looked at her.

She looked exactly like the photograph (which he stumbled upon by accident while searching for some documents in his father's room), he thought; the aristocratic nose, long eye lashes and bright grey eyes and of course, the sparkling diamond studded ear rings. She had no other jewelry.

Her eyes squinted as she studied the boy and raised her bushy eyebrows.

“Good morning mam. Today is my birthday and I thought the best way to celebrate it is with you guys on the Ashram. Can I offer you some sweets? I will be delighted if you could accept it.”

He spoke the rehearsed sentences in one breath.

She laughed out loudly. He could see that the laugh was genuine and her eyes reciprocated the laugh.

She extended her slender hand towards the boy and he shook it. He was surprised by the grip.

“Happy birthday darling. Oh, sorry. Tell me you name please.”

The boy replied immediately. “Gaurav Gupta mam.”

She released her hands and squinted her eyes and looked at him again. She appeared to be weighing something before speaking. Suddenly, she brushed her hair again as if she was brushing her thoughts in the mind as well and spoke.

“What a lovely name. Gaurav. Happy birthday, Gaurav. Are you coming to the Ashram for the first time? I don’t appear to have seen you before?”

The boy steadied his nerves and avoided looking directly at the old lady as he spoke.

“Yes mam. Coming for the first time though I have been interacting with the manager and learning about the Ashram for quite some time now. How long you have been here, Mam?”

The old lady did not reply.

She opened the sweet box given by the boy. The box contained assorted sweets. There was a dry jamoon, her favorite, took it in her hands and before the boy could say anything, she put it in his mouth.

The boy, though pleased by her action, never expected it.

With food in his mouth, he spoke. “So kind of you mam. By the way, I was told by the Manager that today happens to be your birthday too. Can I…..” Taking another piece of jamoon in his hand, the boy put it in her mouth.

The old woman ate the jamoon and studied the boy. 

He was nervous still. His hands were fiddling with the bag and eyes avoided looking at her.

Without any expression on her face, she asked him. “Where do you live? In Bangalore? And who are all there in the family? You seem to have come alone here? 

The boy again avoided looking at the old lady as he lied.

“Mam, I live in Bangalore but actually, I hail from Delhi where my mother and grandparents live.

“Oh? And what do you do in Bangalore?” The old lady still looking at the boy spoke in a tone as if she did not believe one word.

The boy suddenly got up, grabbed the bag and bending to shake the old lady’s hand once again spoke. “Happy birthday to you mam. I need to meet other inmates so if you would excuse me. I will come back again, hopefully.

The boy moved and spoke to all other inmates and offered sweet boxes even as the old lady saw him go.

There were deep lines on her face. She moved slowly towards her room, closed the door and pulled out her suitcase from under the bed.

She slowly sifted through her clothes and papers and then she found it!

She removed the old worn out thick brown coloured envelope, sat on the bed and pulled out several sheets of paper and several passport sized photos. 

She held the one which showed a young boy of around 12 in a school uniform.

Her eyes started welling up with tears and even as she kept the photo on the bed, few drops of water fell on the black and white photograph.

The boy in the picture looked very much like the young man who offered her sweets few minutes ago.

The young Gaurav looked around but couldn’t find the old lady.

He sighed and waving his hands at the Manager who was still sitting in his cabin, walked towards his car. He appeared happy after a long time and whistled softly as he drove his car back home.

It was not until another 15 days that Gaurav could find time to go to Ashram.

This time, the old lady was chatting with another lady and did not see Gaurav come and stand near.

Gaurav overhead few things; they were just chatting generally.

After few minutes, he moved close and old lady looked up and smiled.

“Hi Gaurav. What a surprise? I thought you will come back only for your next birthday.” A mischievous smile crossed her face and Gaurav laughed out loudly.

“No mam. Actually, I wanted to come last week but was held up because of work. So, how are you doing? Can I sit here for some time, if you don’t mind?”

“Why are so horribly formal, Gaurav? We hardly get people coming here. Come darling. Please sit and for god’s sake, please speak normally.”

Gaurav sat cross legged on the lawn and observed the old lady even as she spoke to other lady who showed signs of leaving.

As soon the other lady left. The old lady held Gaurav’s hand and squeezed gently and spoke.

“Last time you seemed to be in a hurry. Hope we can spend some time talking, yes?”

Gaurav smiled. “I will be very happy to spend time talking to you, mam.”

“So, you were to tell me something about your family; they live in Delhi, right?”

Gaurav looked at the friendly old lady and thought. 

Why were they telling me obnoxious things about grandma? She does not display any hatred, as they said she would.

“My mother and grandfather live in Kolkata. My grandpa has family business and mother is housewife. I lost my father last year.” Gaurav was watching the old lady’s face closely as he spoke in a steady voice, for the first time.

The old lady gasped and turned her face away.

Gaurav knew her eyes were welled up and she did her best to control her tears.

After a long pause she asked, still looking away.

“What happened to your father? From your looks, she appears too young to die?”

“He was suffering from cancer for quite some time. Doctor’s had given up hope and had told us to be ready. Only the end came earlier than expected.”

Gaurav’s voice had no emotion; he spoke in matter of fact tone.

The old lady turned suddenly and looked directly in to Gaurav’s eyes.

“Your voice, Gaurav, tells me something. Why? You did not like your father? There was no pain when you said he passed away.”

Gaurav held the old lady’s hand and spoke.

“May be he deserved to die”

There was no change of expression on the old lady’s face.

She did not speak for a while.

“You can’ be speaking like that about father, Gaurav. “

“I think I should stop this drama right now. Sorry, grandma. I just couldn’t control my anger; not after what he has done to you.”

Gaurav held the old lady’s hand wept.

The old lady made Gaurav sleep on her lap and looked at his face.

He is a replica of his father. There were no tears in her eyes.

Gaurav sat down and spoke.

“Everyone at home, grandpa and mother discouraged any talk about you. When father was alive, he too never spoke about you.

I have only seen your pictures. For years everyone said you were dead.

What happened? Please tell me. I have never heard entire family shunning a lady. They said, that you will not even speak to me. That’s why I tried to be someone else. You knew when I met you for the first time, right?”

The old lady led Gaurav to her room.

As soon as they entered, Gaurav’s eyes started watering remembering the palatial building in which he, his mother and grandpa lived, in Kolkata.

The room was, though very clean, was hardly about 10 feet by 10. There was a bed and a small table with a chair. Attached bathroom door was closed and small mirror adored the wall above a small wash basin.

He sat on the edge of the bed while the old lady bent down and pulled an old metal trunk. 

She removed the large envelope and emptied the contents on the bed.

Gaurav sifted through the old papers and photos and picked up newspaper cutting; he sat between his parents while his grandfather stood behind smiling. He was too small, may be around 6. The picture was taken for grandfather's 60th birthday party.

“What actually happened grandma? Please, tell me? How can a son discard his own mother just like that? We have so much money and wealth….” Gaurav started crying.

The old lady put her hand around Gaurav and consoled him. “Gaurav, the time has come to tell everything. God knows I have done no wrong. You are a big lad now and mature enough to judge the right from the wrong. But please, you have to wait for few more days. You will learn everything. One last thing; please don’t tell the manager or any other inmates about our relationship.”

Gaurav looked up and saw his grandmother, her head held high looking outside the window with a faraway look.

Gaurav knew that it is better to give in to the old lady’s wish, for the time being. I have waited all these years, few more days shouldn’t be a problem, he thought.

Gaurav got busy and could not go towards Ashram as he had to travel to Kolkata for work. 

Despite begging, grandmother refused to take the mobile he had bought for her.

So, when he got a call from the manager he was surprised.

The manager said that the old lady to whom he gave birthday present wanted to talk to him.

Manager handed over the phone to the old lady and walked out.

Gaurav felt happy to hear his grandma’s voice; the voice was barely audible as if she was sick.

“Gaurav, you must be surprised to hear my voice. I am feeling very tired and believe that time has come for me to depart.

I have one last request…. “Gaurav heard incessant coughing.

“Grandma? Oh God. Grandma, I am in Kolkata. I will catch the first available flight and come right away. 

The he heard the feeble voice once again.

“No Gaurav. Please listen to me. I don’t want you to come here….. But you have more important task to complete….. I want you to perform the ‘last rites’ …….”

Gaurav heard the sound of someone falling.

The Manager rushed in and spoke “Gaurav? The old lady has fallen down. I am rushing her to the doctor.”

Manager was standing near the gate and made Gaurav sit and he too pulled a chair and sat down.

“Gaurav, I don’t know what to say or how to say. Do you remember that you have come several times and spent time with that old lady whose birthday you shared?”

Gaurav, his heart beating faster, looked up to the manager and spoke.

“Yes, sir. I know her, what happened? Is she alright? She fell down while talking to me”

Manager got up and pacing up down the small room, looked out of the window and spoke.

“She died two days ago. As per our laid down rules, for all those inmates who don’t have any known relatives, we complete the last rites ourselves.

She suffered massive heart attack. She was barely conscious when we admitted her to hospital. She sent a message to me and when I went, she handed over me this….” The manager gave Gaurav an envelope marked with his name on it.

“I am really sorry we could not notify you earlier as we were busy with the last rites and I had misplaced the vising card you gave me. Only today morning I found it.”

Gaurav said nothing; he was fighting very hard not to cry out loudly.

He took the envelope and walked towards the car. 

He sat and cried loudly; I was told to do the last rites but I failed in my duty. He felt the rage about his dead father and thought, ‘ I should have told everyone in the Ashram that she was my grandmother.’

He drove the car a few kilometer, stopped it under a tree on the side road and opened the envelope.

Two things fell out; one a small folded letter and the other was the glittering diamond ear rings.

He opened the letter and started reading.

My dear Gaurav

The minute you walked in to the Ashram, I knew it was you.

The unmistakable glint in your brown eyes, your aristocratic nose, not to forget the dimple on your left chin, they are replica of your father’s look.

I believe my end is near. By the time you read this letter, I would be no more. I have severe pain in my chest.

You must have wondered a million times as to why this old lady has been discarded and put in to old age home when the rest of family is living lavishly.

Every sentence, word or phrase in this letter is absolute truth. 

But still, I would leave it your good judgement to decide what to do; I have one last request for you to do.

My life’s story is full of turbulence and pitfalls; I lost my parents at a very early age and my maternal uncle brought me up.

I studied college and was above average student and was dreaming of becoming a doctor. But we were poor. When an alliance came from a wealthy family, my uncle was very happy; he had his own children to take care of. 

As fate would have it, the bridegroom’s father died on the date of our engagement and their family thought I was the reason!

The boy was in love with me and wouldn’t let his family interfere.

The marriage fell through and I married the man whom you now call, grandfather.

Even before the rituals began, I told the man that I have a baby in my stomach and who the father was!

He said, he wouldn’t mind. I later I found out the real reason; he couldn’t sire a child!

God knows, Gaurav I was forced to the marriage which I fought vehemently, but no one listened. Once your father reached the age of 10 I fought with my husband that we should tell the truth; but he refused and behaved as if he was the real father.

Life went on well till your father became a teen ager and found out that he was born out of wedlock. 

He didn’t speak one word after that day and once he finished his studies and took over the family business, without consulting any one, he moved me to a separate rented house away from Kolkata and did not even give me money for my survival with a stern warning that I should never see them again.

I did all kinds of odd job just to survive.

The man whom I was supposed to marry found out and started supporting me financially despite my protests.

Your father found out and came to see me and threatened to kill me if I took any more help!

I was fed up and tried many times to commit suicide.

In one such attempt an old man saw my plight and admitted me to the old age home where I live even now.

I don’t carry any grudge against any one.

I learnt about my son’s death; it was in newspaper.

Here is what I want you to do. 

Yesterday I got the news that your grandfather – the real grandfather, has died. 

His body is kept waiting for cremation as he does not have any one to call his family, except, you!

Will you please perform his last rites?

This will be the best tribute you can pay for me.

With lots of love