Broken Strings of Sitar
Created | Updated Oct 13, 2010
“Hey, hey you slow minded slug, stop right there…what in the heavens did you think you were doing when you took out this thing from the attic? Who asked you to get it out? Don’t you follow any instructions around here in this house? …Answer me!”
The poor fellow stood silently and ran a furtive glance toward Mali, Bua’s younger daughter in law.
“What’s wrong Bua?” I came out of the study and enquired.
“Here, look at this…it’s an oil painting of your uncle’s from his younger days. The frame was loose so I had it kept away on the attic hoping to get it fixed the next time there was woodwork in the house.
Well, this careless fool ruined it. Look at his fingers smudged all over the color…oh my goodness what am I going to do now…?” Bua was on the verge of tears now as she continued, choking between her sentences, “it was a nine days ordeal…the artiste was especially invited from Calcutta and day in and day out your uncle would get up in the morning, dress up in the same attire put on the same jewelries and sit for hours at a stretch on his divan, and this fellow would move his brush ever so neatly on the canvas…”
“And when it was complete, your uncle’s father proudly hung it in his study above the fireplace and made sure that not one guest would leave without praising this beautiful portrait of his son in the study.”
Her eyes were misty as she looked at the remains of the portrait still in her hands. She bent down and sat on the floor, her lips pursed and she cried silently.
The servant looked at me, frightened and then sad as he saw Bua cry. But he couldn’t say what he wanted to.
Mali, who had been watching the entire time from the kitchen window walked to the kitchen door and advised loudly, “I sent him to fetch the old utensils from the attic, the Brass plates and all…had no idea you would have put the portrait there…and you don’t expect this guy to know the value of an oil painting, do you?”
“It’s damaged, but it’s not all gone after all?” …and she moved back into getting things done for lunch inside the kitchen.
I took Bua by her other hand and helped her stand up. “Wow, this is so beautiful…he was gorgeous…don’t you feel lucky? …all the girls of the town must be chasing him all the time? …Bua, he definitely was a heartbreaker…don’t you agree?”
Bua finally smiled shyly. I was relieved.
It was the festive season of Diwali. The house must be cleaned and painted inside out. So a week before the main festival laborers come in and get the stuff outside one room at a time and then paint that room and get the stuff back and organize the room.
It is in the air this morning. The slightly cool October morning, Sun is out but not too warm…I can smell fried veggies on the trailer stalls as my train slows down to stop at the platform. And as it does, the clamor of vendors, and relatives and friends there to receive their own, fills the atmosphere.
I heard a lot of things have changed in the last ten years in this area. But I can see the railway station is still the same, the same kind of skin all around. Albeit, everyone seems to carry cell phones now, a lot of the faces busy talking.
I wait for Jagat Ji to find my compartment, I cannot locate him in the crowd outside at the platform. And my phone rings, “Ji Hansa Ji, which tier, is it AC One after the pantry car?” ..”Yes, I am right where you can see the Press Bookstore and the blue railway canteen door…”
He has someone else with him, a younger fellow to carry my luggage.
“Ji, Hansa Ji, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you to be traveling to this town…I know you were here as a child for some years but things change when one moves to bigger places…we don’t have similar facilities…and this train is not very punctual…”
“It has been fine Jagat Ji…don’t worry….”, there was so much to see and I didn’t want to miss the picture for his words.
“Ji, we have the taxi ready for you outside, this way madam”
“Do you still have Tonga running here?”
“Yes madam, but not too many… the taxis and tampo have taken away the business…but there must be a few on that corner…if you don’t mind walking…”
We walked through the taxi stand and reached the corner, when he said, “could you please wait here, these fellows they hike their fare the moment they see people from outside…I will go finalize it…”
I stood there and checked out the surrounding area…the roads look newer and wider the roadsides more crowded and more colorful...DVD and Video shops, restaurants, juice corners, and mobile phone agencies.
The Tonga swerved and the clink-clank from the horseshoes slowly faded in the background as the horse trotted through the streets that looked the same except for the new makeovers here and there and some new additions few and far between.
Some of the faces along the streets were the same, some of them morphed into graying versions of themselves, but the eyes as they followed an outsider riding in a Tonga, gave out their familiarity.
The Tonga wobbled to stop in front of the house, now neatly refurbished into a three storey with what looked like a garage on the left.
Jagat Ji rang the bell, the same nightingale music filled the air…and in a minute there appeared a young girl opening the door to me.
“I had never thought I would be back here in front to this house again. But, as it is, I have made up my mind not to let the past peer out and disturb me at all. If it did, I am confident, I can hold myself, if I couldn’t after all, I’d let myself be, after all these people don’t affect my life anymore.”
“Hello there!”, I smiled as broad as I could.
“Hansa Aunty…please come in, mother was coming out herself but the phone rang at the same moment…please come in…Prabhu will get your luggage.”
“You must be sister Mali’s daughter?...do you remember me? You were so little almost a year when I saw you last…”, I said as I entered the fenced lawn and she led me to the guestroom on the right.
“Yes, mother calls me Nikku”, she giggled.
Mali was already in the guestroom waiting and smiling economically as before but rounder in her entirety, adorning two heavy gold chains in the neck and gold rings in each of her fingers, an large emerald ring in her right pinky.
“Hello there….it’s been a lifetime…I heard so much about you of and on from the magazines and TV, but it’s so good you could come visit you old home…isn’t it?”…she suffixed a routine laughter at the end of he sentences. I kept waiting to say something.
‘Umm…do you want to use the bathroom? It must be a long journey for you…everyone should be back in an hour, and Bua is in her temple for morning Puja, she is dying to see you, hasn’t stopped talking about you since she heard you were coming…”
“I will get the breakfast going in the kitchen…why don’t you make yourself comfortable?...Nikku? go show aunty the way to the new bathroom…ya the other ones are old style but this one is English commode and telephone showers and all…I am sure you’d prefer those now…wouldn’t you”, she gave another laugh.
The bathroom was indeed pretty modern.
Bua waited outside the bathroom, “are you done yet, do you have enough hot water there? You need to switch on the geyser if the water is not hot enough.”
“I am ok Bua…give me just a minute.”, I spoke back aloud fixing my new Bandhej Kurta (shirt) and Chunni.
And as I opened the door, Bua turned to me with her arms wide open and I ran to her for a cuddle.
“Look at her…she looks like a queen…she was always my queen hmmm…?” and she kissed on my forehead still looking at me in admiration.
“Bua, yourself…you look twenty years younger to your age…what are you anyway…let me guess…a 100 yrs already?…well you look about 80”, I added with a wink.
“Ah don’t mention that…I feel like a tree ready to dry up and fall down…I have seen everything there was to see…”
“Anyway…lets go to my room…there is so much to talk…Prabhu? Would you bring the tea and breakfast in my room for us?”
Past the corridor, Bua walked with me still holding my hand and smiling.
“I moved to this room, it’s closer to the bathroom, more convenient in this age…remember you used to study here at nights? …I use your study table to keep my medicines in its drawer”
“Well not sit down here on the bed…make yourself comfortable…”
“Is the breakfast ready yet…she hollered from the door…this new one is a sluggard…Mali is of age too…she can supervise…but these little chores…she cannot do those anymore…” she said matter-of-factly as she came back to the bed where I sat now.
“How have you been my dear…? Did you find a mate yet? …I know these days kids find their own mates…have you already?...no need to be shy with me…you know me…don’t you?”, she said nudging my chin.
“Ah Bua…I am so busy with so much work all around me…I hardly find any time…” and as I struggled to discontinue the subject the breakfast arrived. Mali came in smiling ear to ear, “ I got some of you favorites made…, try the ginger role and the lentil fries…what would you like for lunch…whatever you want…just let me know …feel free…this is your own house, isn’t it Bua?”
Bua picked up her cup of tea and smiled at me.
After the breakfast, Bua took her medicine from the drawer and as we lied down on her bed and tried in turns to catch up on everything and anything that had passed in the last ten years, she drifted into sleep slightly snoring while her one hand still in mine.
It is the same room. I looked at the ceiling …the corner where there used to be some plaster hanging loose, I could hear myself breathe…it has never been like that ever since…my ears drummed and my heart raced…as I quickly pulled myself away and put myself back in the moment…Bua was still snoring gently…I pulled myself out of the bed and tip toed to the library across the corridor…
College was routine. The girls met in the common rooms by the staff office, had their lunches and talked about guys.
By the end of the main road to the college, guys stood by their bikes and made comments or compliments toward girls passing by.
During the lecture, guys sat in separate rows, girls toward the front, in the first few rows.
“Hansa?...”, I was surprised to hear the voice from my behind…I turned back…. “Hey….”
“Hey…”
“Sorry I am late…I thought of joining you for lunch here…lots of work and then I had to drive to reach here on time…”
“So anyway…how is life…? I keep hearing about you…you are indeed famous…much to my envy…”, he laughed and I looked on in a pleasant shock, unable to detach myself from the moment that just slipped by I kept nodding speechlessly.
“Ah it’s more of hype than the truth…you know the media…”, I attempted modesty, still just looking at his face.
The corners of his eyes go a bit crinkly now when he smiles, his face is slightly broader and hair neatly set. And that is all that has changed.
“You look the same.”
“You however have changed a lot. You look …very different…”
“Different?...good different or bad?”, I said laughingly.
“Of course good different…remember your two heavily oiled plaits with those blue ribbons? And the starched plain cotton shirts…? You can tell yourself…!”
Prabhu came in to inform lunch was ready.
“So how do you find your work in the region? Do you still love administration?”, I tried to continue with a more formal subject while we walked to the dining room.
“Well, after a while, it’s all the same… set in stone…some things never change some keep changing too often to keep track of…it’s all a lot of politics and diplomacy…not as simple and idealistic as it used to appear from outside back in the prep days…”
“But you appreciate the power and the mullah…don’t you?” I interjected.
“Hmm…as long as you know what works and what doesn’t…you know…the horse sense…you are fine and you do well…but not the same as we used to think it is….”
The “we” in his sentence put a flutter in my heart. I sat down in the corner chair of the table and waited for him to settle down.
“Mali Di… I will just have a couple Chapattis and some soup…I have to head back to work and I don’t wont to fall asleep on the steering…”
“And you? Are you too on a diet? … I have so many items still to come from the kitchen… what a waste? You kids…” Mali shook her head while she opened the Lentil soup container.
“So what’ s your plan for the day and for that matter…for the stay here…two days is it…or could you stay longer at all…?”
“Hmm I have things on my mind…need to go to the college to pick up my degree certificate…it’s been a decade…”
“Oh you don’t need to go there for just that…I will send someone to pick it up for you… not a problem!”
“Actually I wanted to see Prof. Zakari as well, we had a few emails exchanged when I planned to come here.”
“Oh I see, then it’s different.”
“By the way, he is announcing retirement next session.”
“Yeah, he is old. Has a great-grandson”.
“Yeah… so you know.”
“How do you like the Chapattis? It’s the same gram and wheat mix for you…do you find these in your place now?” Mali interrupted our hitherto drab formal conversation.
“Oh these are delicious…I try to imitate you in my cooking as close as I can, but Di, it’s all still imitation…I miss your food.”, I was generously expressing my appreciation to clear off the air of emptiness I had already begun to feel.
He would leave after this. And in less than a day and a half now, I will be gone again for another lifetime to return or may be never.
“It’s all me again.” I silently chided myself.
Bua hollered from her room, “hey is this Anu I hear over there? ...would you come sit down with me after your meal…?”
“Sure Dadi …I was coming to you anyway after this.”
“Excuse me!”, He arose from his chair and left to wash his hands before he walked into Bua’s room.
My eyes kept following his tall figure briskly moving to the other end of the corridor.
“Ah Mali Di…do you want to join me?”
“Oh it’s my fast today…I am keeping these for Nikkei’s exams.”
“Oh… yes I am done anyway already…”, I smiled back.
“How is Manik Bhai?”
“He so wanted to come see you…but he is so busy…it’s this season… he couldn’t travel back here in time.”
“That’s OK Di…convey my regards.”
“But you will come again sooner next, wouldn’t you? At least for some family functions?”
I looked up and she whispered.
“See Anu might finally like this girl, his brother has found for him… at least he seems to have been talking to her on the phone…it was so difficult earlier to even convince him for that…”
I forced a smile on my face and pushed a lump in my throat.
“So I see… sure… don’t forget to send me the invite when it’s finalized.”, I chuckled with my template sentences hurriedly put together in response.
I sprang up from the chair, “Di I need to rush before the college office closes for the day.”
Jagat Ji was ready with his car, another rented one, since he guessed I chose Tonga over the taxi because I didn’t like that car.
“You will find this one more comfy… I insisted with the manager to give me this one for you…”
“Thank you Jagat Ji, I appreciate your efforts!”
On the way up to the college, the sandy riverbank stretch on the right kept bothering me.
“There are so many small shops and these little houses by the riverbank now…? …it used to be a beauty….and now look at it…I can hardly see the water…”
“Yes madam…the government sold the area by the road in small plots that these people from the other states built their houses on. Not our people.”
As the car swiftly moved on the road, my eyes briefly searched for a big pointed one among the rocks by the river. “Oh there it is.”, I almost exclaimed. And the next moment, I forced myself to look at the other side.
At the professor’s place, the entire family gathered around me, questions after questions about what it was like to be me - in the limelight, facing arc lights and cameras.
By evening, I was ready to go to bed. An extra bed was already put nicely in the corner of Bua’s room.
After dinner she and I went back to her room and had some pillow talk before she put the lights off.
“Did he talk to you? When he came for lunch?”
“Huh… what do you mean…? We talked yes…”
“No… I mean did he sound like he still has feelings?”
“Bua…what are you trying to say?”
“You know what I mean… I still think he does.”
“Bua… it’s been a long time… and besides…there never was anything of that nature… you just kept imagining it.”
“OK, I will take your word for it… that’s OK”.
And she put the lights off both of us silently awake for a long time before we fell asleep.
The next morning, I had to leave in the afternoon. I wanted to leave earlier though.
Bua was busy in her room getting Prabhu to climb up in the attic for something and I sat in the study smiling at the generously colored inset pictures of reporters and locals alike all over the daily newspaper. It used to be mostly black and white ten years ago.
“Here, darling… are you done with your tea there?”
“Yes Bua. What do you have for me…? You got some gold coins, some emeralds for me there ….?” I laughed leaping back into her room.
She waited for me to enter her room and said patiently, “this is more precious than those to me… it’s not gold coins or emeralds…but I know no one else can appreciate its value except you…. So I had it in my mind the moment I heard you were to come…now don’t say no…you’d break this old woman’s heart…”
“Here…”, she dusted the already dusted old Sitar in the corner.
“Oh so is this what you were saving in the attic for me?”, I touched the pegs and the slipped my fingers on the back of its smooth body.
“You know… I even tried to learn it from your uncle…when I was still young and he was alive… but I don’t have a single bone that could make music…”
“And these kids, they are so busy with these little computer machine… ah what do you call those?”
“Video games?”
“Yes video games… they are so busy…they look at this and make faces…”
I giggled.
“They say as the wood grows older, the sound gets better…rich and fuller…”
“See what I mean?... you know these things…”
“You could put it on an auction…” I suggested.
“They pay fortunes for old musical instruments in some city auctions…I could try for you once I get back to my place…”
“I don’t need money… what life do I have left with me to spend it? …I want you to take it with you and keep in my memory.”
“Bua…you are not going away…”
“Well… you don’t want to take it do you?”
“You could always get it repaired. Some of the strings broke over time in neglect. But those are replaceable.”, she tried earnestly.
“Umm the only problem I have is how to carry it to my place…. You know it’s so difficult to get here in trains and taxis and tonga and what not…how will I carry it over to my place safely?”
“Hmm …if that’s the issue…let me figure it out.”
I felt relieved, at least for the time being the matter was postponed and hopefully she would forget about it soon.
I ran my fingers one more time between the strings and it strummed against my fingers. An untitled tune volunteered to come to life before I stopped.
“Come on, let it go…play some for me…it’s been years…”, Bua urged intently.
“I don’t remember much. I am not sure…”
“Now don’t tell me that… I know you can make music even in your sleep…”
“Yes but this is a different…”, I stopped in between my insistence and my fingers began to run back and forth on the strings…stringing here and nipping there and strumming and going up and down…carefully ignoring and making for the missing strings.
Bua sat on her bed and listened. When I opened my eyes, everyone was in the room… except for him.
I put the Sitar down gently and rose up, “ I better hurry up Bua, I need to catch this train at 4.”
“Don’t forget to pack the dinner I had Prabhu prepare for you for the journey.” Mali added from the door.
“Sure Di. Thanks so much!”
The family came out to say goodbye, once again but this time it was a respectful farewell.
Jagat Ji held the car door open for me and I sat in the car waving my hand to Bua, who wiped her tears looking on from her window.
I had wanted to please her but I thought it would be hard on me to look at the instrument everyday in my apartment. Especially at those broken strings.
The car started to move and Mali waved from the main door. I waved back to her and the daughter.
“Could you stop by the riverbank for a minute on the way?”
“Sure Madam, I know you like the river.”, Jagat Ji laughed.
“Near those rocks would be fine. I will sit down for a few minutes and have some fresh air.”
My feet wouldn’t lift up on their own on the sand…I struggled to move forward…I kept halting to see how far I still had to go…
And then there it was…the pointed tall rock…the tallest amongst the rocks lying here on the bank…
I knelt down and tried to feel inside the crack at the bottom…the sharp metal string rolled in a garland with white and brown shells hand-beaded around it…I slowly slipped it out and spread it in my palm …tears dropped one by one and I stood up and turned to leave…the garland clenched in my fist…
“You will miss your train…”
There was an infinite pause…as I helplessly kept looking back at the rock to assure he could not find out what I was there for.
“I was coming home for Diwali anyway so it didn’t make a sense to go back and then come back again after a day.”, he offered an explanation for his presence there.
“Ah… I just thought of taking a walk before I boarded the train…”, I squinted at the sun to avoid meeting his eyes and perhaps also to explain the moistness in them…
My phone rang…”oh hi Ahmed…yes, I am about to leave here…was just chatting with a friend…let me call you when I am on my way”…
I flipped the phone back and looked back. He stood closer to me now, looking closely at the beaded garland now in his hand… and then he looked up at me and said, “Did Dadi offer you her old Sitar?”
The poor fellow stood silently and ran a furtive glance toward Mali, Bua’s younger daughter in law.
“What’s wrong Bua?” I came out of the study and enquired.
“Here, look at this…it’s an oil painting of your uncle’s from his younger days. The frame was loose so I had it kept away on the attic hoping to get it fixed the next time there was woodwork in the house.
Well, this careless fool ruined it. Look at his fingers smudged all over the color…oh my goodness what am I going to do now…?” Bua was on the verge of tears now as she continued, choking between her sentences, “it was a nine days ordeal…the artiste was especially invited from Calcutta and day in and day out your uncle would get up in the morning, dress up in the same attire put on the same jewelries and sit for hours at a stretch on his divan, and this fellow would move his brush ever so neatly on the canvas…”
“And when it was complete, your uncle’s father proudly hung it in his study above the fireplace and made sure that not one guest would leave without praising this beautiful portrait of his son in the study.”
Her eyes were misty as she looked at the remains of the portrait still in her hands. She bent down and sat on the floor, her lips pursed and she cried silently.
The servant looked at me, frightened and then sad as he saw Bua cry. But he couldn’t say what he wanted to.
Mali, who had been watching the entire time from the kitchen window walked to the kitchen door and advised loudly, “I sent him to fetch the old utensils from the attic, the Brass plates and all…had no idea you would have put the portrait there…and you don’t expect this guy to know the value of an oil painting, do you?”
“It’s damaged, but it’s not all gone after all?” …and she moved back into getting things done for lunch inside the kitchen.
I took Bua by her other hand and helped her stand up. “Wow, this is so beautiful…he was gorgeous…don’t you feel lucky? …all the girls of the town must be chasing him all the time? …Bua, he definitely was a heartbreaker…don’t you agree?”
Bua finally smiled shyly. I was relieved.
It was the festive season of Diwali. The house must be cleaned and painted inside out. So a week before the main festival laborers come in and get the stuff outside one room at a time and then paint that room and get the stuff back and organize the room.
It is in the air this morning. The slightly cool October morning, Sun is out but not too warm…I can smell fried veggies on the trailer stalls as my train slows down to stop at the platform. And as it does, the clamor of vendors, and relatives and friends there to receive their own, fills the atmosphere.
I heard a lot of things have changed in the last ten years in this area. But I can see the railway station is still the same, the same kind of skin all around. Albeit, everyone seems to carry cell phones now, a lot of the faces busy talking.
I wait for Jagat Ji to find my compartment, I cannot locate him in the crowd outside at the platform. And my phone rings, “Ji Hansa Ji, which tier, is it AC One after the pantry car?” ..”Yes, I am right where you can see the Press Bookstore and the blue railway canteen door…”
He has someone else with him, a younger fellow to carry my luggage.
“Ji, Hansa Ji, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you to be traveling to this town…I know you were here as a child for some years but things change when one moves to bigger places…we don’t have similar facilities…and this train is not very punctual…”
“It has been fine Jagat Ji…don’t worry….”, there was so much to see and I didn’t want to miss the picture for his words.
“Ji, we have the taxi ready for you outside, this way madam”
“Do you still have Tonga running here?”
“Yes madam, but not too many… the taxis and tampo have taken away the business…but there must be a few on that corner…if you don’t mind walking…”
We walked through the taxi stand and reached the corner, when he said, “could you please wait here, these fellows they hike their fare the moment they see people from outside…I will go finalize it…”
I stood there and checked out the surrounding area…the roads look newer and wider the roadsides more crowded and more colorful...DVD and Video shops, restaurants, juice corners, and mobile phone agencies.
The Tonga swerved and the clink-clank from the horseshoes slowly faded in the background as the horse trotted through the streets that looked the same except for the new makeovers here and there and some new additions few and far between.
Some of the faces along the streets were the same, some of them morphed into graying versions of themselves, but the eyes as they followed an outsider riding in a Tonga, gave out their familiarity.
The Tonga wobbled to stop in front of the house, now neatly refurbished into a three storey with what looked like a garage on the left.
Jagat Ji rang the bell, the same nightingale music filled the air…and in a minute there appeared a young girl opening the door to me.
“I had never thought I would be back here in front to this house again. But, as it is, I have made up my mind not to let the past peer out and disturb me at all. If it did, I am confident, I can hold myself, if I couldn’t after all, I’d let myself be, after all these people don’t affect my life anymore.”
“Hello there!”, I smiled as broad as I could.
“Hansa Aunty…please come in, mother was coming out herself but the phone rang at the same moment…please come in…Prabhu will get your luggage.”
“You must be sister Mali’s daughter?...do you remember me? You were so little almost a year when I saw you last…”, I said as I entered the fenced lawn and she led me to the guestroom on the right.
“Yes, mother calls me Nikku”, she giggled.
Mali was already in the guestroom waiting and smiling economically as before but rounder in her entirety, adorning two heavy gold chains in the neck and gold rings in each of her fingers, an large emerald ring in her right pinky.
“Hello there….it’s been a lifetime…I heard so much about you of and on from the magazines and TV, but it’s so good you could come visit you old home…isn’t it?”…she suffixed a routine laughter at the end of he sentences. I kept waiting to say something.
‘Umm…do you want to use the bathroom? It must be a long journey for you…everyone should be back in an hour, and Bua is in her temple for morning Puja, she is dying to see you, hasn’t stopped talking about you since she heard you were coming…”
“I will get the breakfast going in the kitchen…why don’t you make yourself comfortable?...Nikku? go show aunty the way to the new bathroom…ya the other ones are old style but this one is English commode and telephone showers and all…I am sure you’d prefer those now…wouldn’t you”, she gave another laugh.
The bathroom was indeed pretty modern.
Bua waited outside the bathroom, “are you done yet, do you have enough hot water there? You need to switch on the geyser if the water is not hot enough.”
“I am ok Bua…give me just a minute.”, I spoke back aloud fixing my new Bandhej Kurta (shirt) and Chunni.
And as I opened the door, Bua turned to me with her arms wide open and I ran to her for a cuddle.
“Look at her…she looks like a queen…she was always my queen hmmm…?” and she kissed on my forehead still looking at me in admiration.
“Bua, yourself…you look twenty years younger to your age…what are you anyway…let me guess…a 100 yrs already?…well you look about 80”, I added with a wink.
“Ah don’t mention that…I feel like a tree ready to dry up and fall down…I have seen everything there was to see…”
“Anyway…lets go to my room…there is so much to talk…Prabhu? Would you bring the tea and breakfast in my room for us?”
Past the corridor, Bua walked with me still holding my hand and smiling.
“I moved to this room, it’s closer to the bathroom, more convenient in this age…remember you used to study here at nights? …I use your study table to keep my medicines in its drawer”
“Well not sit down here on the bed…make yourself comfortable…”
“Is the breakfast ready yet…she hollered from the door…this new one is a sluggard…Mali is of age too…she can supervise…but these little chores…she cannot do those anymore…” she said matter-of-factly as she came back to the bed where I sat now.
“How have you been my dear…? Did you find a mate yet? …I know these days kids find their own mates…have you already?...no need to be shy with me…you know me…don’t you?”, she said nudging my chin.
“Ah Bua…I am so busy with so much work all around me…I hardly find any time…” and as I struggled to discontinue the subject the breakfast arrived. Mali came in smiling ear to ear, “ I got some of you favorites made…, try the ginger role and the lentil fries…what would you like for lunch…whatever you want…just let me know …feel free…this is your own house, isn’t it Bua?”
Bua picked up her cup of tea and smiled at me.
After the breakfast, Bua took her medicine from the drawer and as we lied down on her bed and tried in turns to catch up on everything and anything that had passed in the last ten years, she drifted into sleep slightly snoring while her one hand still in mine.
It is the same room. I looked at the ceiling …the corner where there used to be some plaster hanging loose, I could hear myself breathe…it has never been like that ever since…my ears drummed and my heart raced…as I quickly pulled myself away and put myself back in the moment…Bua was still snoring gently…I pulled myself out of the bed and tip toed to the library across the corridor…
College was routine. The girls met in the common rooms by the staff office, had their lunches and talked about guys.
By the end of the main road to the college, guys stood by their bikes and made comments or compliments toward girls passing by.
During the lecture, guys sat in separate rows, girls toward the front, in the first few rows.
“Hansa?...”, I was surprised to hear the voice from my behind…I turned back…. “Hey….”
“Hey…”
“Sorry I am late…I thought of joining you for lunch here…lots of work and then I had to drive to reach here on time…”
“So anyway…how is life…? I keep hearing about you…you are indeed famous…much to my envy…”, he laughed and I looked on in a pleasant shock, unable to detach myself from the moment that just slipped by I kept nodding speechlessly.
“Ah it’s more of hype than the truth…you know the media…”, I attempted modesty, still just looking at his face.
The corners of his eyes go a bit crinkly now when he smiles, his face is slightly broader and hair neatly set. And that is all that has changed.
“You look the same.”
“You however have changed a lot. You look …very different…”
“Different?...good different or bad?”, I said laughingly.
“Of course good different…remember your two heavily oiled plaits with those blue ribbons? And the starched plain cotton shirts…? You can tell yourself…!”
Prabhu came in to inform lunch was ready.
“So how do you find your work in the region? Do you still love administration?”, I tried to continue with a more formal subject while we walked to the dining room.
“Well, after a while, it’s all the same… set in stone…some things never change some keep changing too often to keep track of…it’s all a lot of politics and diplomacy…not as simple and idealistic as it used to appear from outside back in the prep days…”
“But you appreciate the power and the mullah…don’t you?” I interjected.
“Hmm…as long as you know what works and what doesn’t…you know…the horse sense…you are fine and you do well…but not the same as we used to think it is….”
The “we” in his sentence put a flutter in my heart. I sat down in the corner chair of the table and waited for him to settle down.
“Mali Di… I will just have a couple Chapattis and some soup…I have to head back to work and I don’t wont to fall asleep on the steering…”
“And you? Are you too on a diet? … I have so many items still to come from the kitchen… what a waste? You kids…” Mali shook her head while she opened the Lentil soup container.
“So what’ s your plan for the day and for that matter…for the stay here…two days is it…or could you stay longer at all…?”
“Hmm I have things on my mind…need to go to the college to pick up my degree certificate…it’s been a decade…”
“Oh you don’t need to go there for just that…I will send someone to pick it up for you… not a problem!”
“Actually I wanted to see Prof. Zakari as well, we had a few emails exchanged when I planned to come here.”
“Oh I see, then it’s different.”
“By the way, he is announcing retirement next session.”
“Yeah, he is old. Has a great-grandson”.
“Yeah… so you know.”
“How do you like the Chapattis? It’s the same gram and wheat mix for you…do you find these in your place now?” Mali interrupted our hitherto drab formal conversation.
“Oh these are delicious…I try to imitate you in my cooking as close as I can, but Di, it’s all still imitation…I miss your food.”, I was generously expressing my appreciation to clear off the air of emptiness I had already begun to feel.
He would leave after this. And in less than a day and a half now, I will be gone again for another lifetime to return or may be never.
“It’s all me again.” I silently chided myself.
Bua hollered from her room, “hey is this Anu I hear over there? ...would you come sit down with me after your meal…?”
“Sure Dadi …I was coming to you anyway after this.”
“Excuse me!”, He arose from his chair and left to wash his hands before he walked into Bua’s room.
My eyes kept following his tall figure briskly moving to the other end of the corridor.
“Ah Mali Di…do you want to join me?”
“Oh it’s my fast today…I am keeping these for Nikkei’s exams.”
“Oh… yes I am done anyway already…”, I smiled back.
“How is Manik Bhai?”
“He so wanted to come see you…but he is so busy…it’s this season… he couldn’t travel back here in time.”
“That’s OK Di…convey my regards.”
“But you will come again sooner next, wouldn’t you? At least for some family functions?”
I looked up and she whispered.
“See Anu might finally like this girl, his brother has found for him… at least he seems to have been talking to her on the phone…it was so difficult earlier to even convince him for that…”
I forced a smile on my face and pushed a lump in my throat.
“So I see… sure… don’t forget to send me the invite when it’s finalized.”, I chuckled with my template sentences hurriedly put together in response.
I sprang up from the chair, “Di I need to rush before the college office closes for the day.”
Jagat Ji was ready with his car, another rented one, since he guessed I chose Tonga over the taxi because I didn’t like that car.
“You will find this one more comfy… I insisted with the manager to give me this one for you…”
“Thank you Jagat Ji, I appreciate your efforts!”
On the way up to the college, the sandy riverbank stretch on the right kept bothering me.
“There are so many small shops and these little houses by the riverbank now…? …it used to be a beauty….and now look at it…I can hardly see the water…”
“Yes madam…the government sold the area by the road in small plots that these people from the other states built their houses on. Not our people.”
As the car swiftly moved on the road, my eyes briefly searched for a big pointed one among the rocks by the river. “Oh there it is.”, I almost exclaimed. And the next moment, I forced myself to look at the other side.
At the professor’s place, the entire family gathered around me, questions after questions about what it was like to be me - in the limelight, facing arc lights and cameras.
By evening, I was ready to go to bed. An extra bed was already put nicely in the corner of Bua’s room.
After dinner she and I went back to her room and had some pillow talk before she put the lights off.
“Did he talk to you? When he came for lunch?”
“Huh… what do you mean…? We talked yes…”
“No… I mean did he sound like he still has feelings?”
“Bua…what are you trying to say?”
“You know what I mean… I still think he does.”
“Bua… it’s been a long time… and besides…there never was anything of that nature… you just kept imagining it.”
“OK, I will take your word for it… that’s OK”.
And she put the lights off both of us silently awake for a long time before we fell asleep.
The next morning, I had to leave in the afternoon. I wanted to leave earlier though.
Bua was busy in her room getting Prabhu to climb up in the attic for something and I sat in the study smiling at the generously colored inset pictures of reporters and locals alike all over the daily newspaper. It used to be mostly black and white ten years ago.
“Here, darling… are you done with your tea there?”
“Yes Bua. What do you have for me…? You got some gold coins, some emeralds for me there ….?” I laughed leaping back into her room.
She waited for me to enter her room and said patiently, “this is more precious than those to me… it’s not gold coins or emeralds…but I know no one else can appreciate its value except you…. So I had it in my mind the moment I heard you were to come…now don’t say no…you’d break this old woman’s heart…”
“Here…”, she dusted the already dusted old Sitar in the corner.
“Oh so is this what you were saving in the attic for me?”, I touched the pegs and the slipped my fingers on the back of its smooth body.
“You know… I even tried to learn it from your uncle…when I was still young and he was alive… but I don’t have a single bone that could make music…”
“And these kids, they are so busy with these little computer machine… ah what do you call those?”
“Video games?”
“Yes video games… they are so busy…they look at this and make faces…”
I giggled.
“They say as the wood grows older, the sound gets better…rich and fuller…”
“See what I mean?... you know these things…”
“You could put it on an auction…” I suggested.
“They pay fortunes for old musical instruments in some city auctions…I could try for you once I get back to my place…”
“I don’t need money… what life do I have left with me to spend it? …I want you to take it with you and keep in my memory.”
“Bua…you are not going away…”
“Well… you don’t want to take it do you?”
“You could always get it repaired. Some of the strings broke over time in neglect. But those are replaceable.”, she tried earnestly.
“Umm the only problem I have is how to carry it to my place…. You know it’s so difficult to get here in trains and taxis and tonga and what not…how will I carry it over to my place safely?”
“Hmm …if that’s the issue…let me figure it out.”
I felt relieved, at least for the time being the matter was postponed and hopefully she would forget about it soon.
I ran my fingers one more time between the strings and it strummed against my fingers. An untitled tune volunteered to come to life before I stopped.
“Come on, let it go…play some for me…it’s been years…”, Bua urged intently.
“I don’t remember much. I am not sure…”
“Now don’t tell me that… I know you can make music even in your sleep…”
“Yes but this is a different…”, I stopped in between my insistence and my fingers began to run back and forth on the strings…stringing here and nipping there and strumming and going up and down…carefully ignoring and making for the missing strings.
Bua sat on her bed and listened. When I opened my eyes, everyone was in the room… except for him.
I put the Sitar down gently and rose up, “ I better hurry up Bua, I need to catch this train at 4.”
“Don’t forget to pack the dinner I had Prabhu prepare for you for the journey.” Mali added from the door.
“Sure Di. Thanks so much!”
The family came out to say goodbye, once again but this time it was a respectful farewell.
Jagat Ji held the car door open for me and I sat in the car waving my hand to Bua, who wiped her tears looking on from her window.
I had wanted to please her but I thought it would be hard on me to look at the instrument everyday in my apartment. Especially at those broken strings.
The car started to move and Mali waved from the main door. I waved back to her and the daughter.
“Could you stop by the riverbank for a minute on the way?”
“Sure Madam, I know you like the river.”, Jagat Ji laughed.
“Near those rocks would be fine. I will sit down for a few minutes and have some fresh air.”
My feet wouldn’t lift up on their own on the sand…I struggled to move forward…I kept halting to see how far I still had to go…
And then there it was…the pointed tall rock…the tallest amongst the rocks lying here on the bank…
I knelt down and tried to feel inside the crack at the bottom…the sharp metal string rolled in a garland with white and brown shells hand-beaded around it…I slowly slipped it out and spread it in my palm …tears dropped one by one and I stood up and turned to leave…the garland clenched in my fist…
“You will miss your train…”
There was an infinite pause…as I helplessly kept looking back at the rock to assure he could not find out what I was there for.
“I was coming home for Diwali anyway so it didn’t make a sense to go back and then come back again after a day.”, he offered an explanation for his presence there.
“Ah… I just thought of taking a walk before I boarded the train…”, I squinted at the sun to avoid meeting his eyes and perhaps also to explain the moistness in them…
My phone rang…”oh hi Ahmed…yes, I am about to leave here…was just chatting with a friend…let me call you when I am on my way”…
I flipped the phone back and looked back. He stood closer to me now, looking closely at the beaded garland now in his hand… and then he looked up at me and said, “Did Dadi offer you her old Sitar?”
