Many decades ago, in a coastal village in Somnath, Gujarat, a wealthy goldsmith built a grand house for his family. Since everyone lived in a joint family then, he planned for the future and had accordingly asked the architect to ensure that the house had eight rooms, a big hall, kitchen and courtyard. He named it “Vaikunth”, dedicated to Lord Vishnu. The house was always filled with laughter and the sound of cheerful people celebrating joyous occasions. The house witnessed marriages, engagements, baby showers and the eventual destination of life too. Death.
The goldsmith died and left the house to his two sons. His wife too died soon after. The sons lived in harmony and, as was the norm then, had many children. Tragedy struck again when five years later, the younger son, his wife and three children passed away in a train crash. And now, the eldest son, his wife named Nabi Ben and six children were the only people living in that magnificent house. They had four sons and two daughters, all happily married. The daughters had settled abroad in Dubai. The eldest son had moved to Mumbai. Nabi Ben, let other families of the village hold their festivities and celebrations there. In those times, wedding halls or party halls were unheard of.
Ten years later, the house witnessed another death. Nabi Ben’s husband passed away. After the funeral and rituals were completed, the issue of ownership of Vaikunth was brought up. The four sons claimed ownership as legal heirs. Nabi Ben objected to it. She said she was the wife of the deceased and the house belonged to her. In those days, women of the house were never considered as legal successors, though the law had made provisions for them. The sons told her that they will take care of her and the house will still be hers. But Nabi Ben had seen how children behaved with their parents in old age. The scenario of being helpless in her own house scared her. She not only refused to budge but also declared that her daughters too had a share in the house. If the ownership was to be shared then it was only fair that the daughters receive their share. The sons argued that their sisters had been given 3 kilos of gold each during their marriage. To which Nabi Ben replied that the wives of the four sons had also been given 3 kilos gold each. The matter got heated and eventually they filed a case in civil court, claiming ownership. The court, in all its wisdom, declared Vaikunth a disputed property. Vaikunth was sealed.
One of her sons moved to Junagadh with his family and the other two sons moved to Ahmedabad. Life must go on and they all had families to look after and feed. Nabi Ben was now homeless and helpless. She had never needed to work in her life and due to her old age, she wasn't given any work either. Her savings started dwindling. She would stay at her relatives' houses for three months and as soon as she sensed that she wasn't welcome, she would leave. Eventually, she lived in the yards of Vagheshwari temple in Somnath. She would look after the temple and happily accept the “dakshina” given in return. Destiny took a turn for the worse again when there was a theft in the temple and all fingers pointed at Nabi Ben. According to the people, she was the only one in dire need of money and had access to the temple throughout the day. She pleaded but to no avail. She was asked to vacate the premises immediately. Despite all this, Nabi Ben refused to compromise with her sons and stubbornly held her ground. Initially, Nabi Ben's family and cousins persuaded her to let go of her claim. But later on, they were worried that they might end up having to look after her as none of her sons will accommodate her anymore. Not that Nabi Ben would have agreed to them anyway. She often passed Vaikunth and would stare at it with tears in her eyes.
The discord in the family kept getting bitter. The eldest son’s daughter was getting married in Mumbai. He sent out invitations to his brothers and went to see his mother to invite her. After all, the first grandchild of the family was getting married. Nabi Ben refused to meet him. Sadly, the son went back and got his daughter married. The whispers among the guests that the bride's paternal relatives were nowhere to be seen, reached the son. He somehow felt very dejected and sad. He wrote to his mother and siblings that he forfeited his share of the house. He didn't want anything to do with the family who couldn't be there for him in his joyous moments.
Two years later, the second son who lived in Ahmedabad passed away due to heart failure. His wife was angry at Nabi Ben and blamed her for this death. She didn't allow her to come for the funeral and forfeited her husband's share. Nabi Ben was saddened. Saddened but not softened. She refused to forfeit her claim. Her daughters, however, were moved by everything that was unfolding in the family. They requested their mother and brothers to sort it out and both forfeited their claim. With four people forfeiting their claim, the succession was contested among three survivors.
Oh! You might be wondering what happened to the court case. As is the norm with civil cases, the court kept giving out fresh dates for hearing. Each claimant was hopeful of a decision in their favour. But it also started taking a toll on her fourth son's health. Things went so bad that his in-laws asked him to move in with them for his peace of mind. They put forth a condition though that he will forgo his claim on Vaikunth and work with them in Rajkot. They assured him that his family lives in comfort. Thinking of the hardships that he had put his wife and children under, he gave up the fight for the house. Two claimants left.
And finally, after 18 years, the court reached a decision. Nabi Ben was the legal and rightful successor of her husband and hence, Vaikunth belonged to her. Nabi Ben's happiness knew no bounds. Having spent a huge portion of her savings on lawyers, discord and disrespect from the children that she gave birth to, years spent like a nomad… Nabi Ben thought of the huge price she had to pay for owning Vaikunth.
The door to the house was opened. Nabi Ben went through each room of the house and stared at the courtyard lovingly. She sat on the swing and closed her eyes to see her children running around and playing, her husband sitting beside her, the maid bringing in the tea. She heard the cacophony of children, the melodious birds, the drums being played, the women singing songs. She opened her eyes again. There was dust of time and dry leaves of memories scattered everywhere. She closed her eyes again and… never opened them again.
