And The House Belongs To...

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.

Why don't you write anymore?

 

“Keep writing like so.”

“Why?”

“Whenever you write I feel as if you are trying to convey your own emotions, something that you might want to say directly but can’t.”

“Nothing like that.”

“So you're telling me that the characters in your story aren’t used by you to express yourself?”

“They are just characters in my story with their own opinions and thoughts. They reflect emotions which are generally felt by people anyway. Don’t think too much of it.” He lit his cigarette, sending a puff of smoke in the air as he smoked … blurring Meera’s face. She smiled and said “Whenever I read your stories I feel as if I know something more about you.”

“That’s what you think and what you think is a misconception.” He stood up and said “Just read what I write, don’t read into what I write. Don’t analyse. You might start thinking of things that don’t even exist.”

That was six months ago. He kept writing, she kept reading his work. Only, she stopped commenting and giving her feedback. And then he didn’t publish anything for four months. Such quietness from someone abuzz made her wonder if everything was right with him. She went to his home that evening.

“I thought you forgot where I lived.”

“Oh shut up! I was just going past and thought …”

“For heaven’s sake Meera!” He laughed out loud “What do you mean by “just going past”? My home isn’t in the middle of a market nor does any of your acquaintances live anywhere near here. Your excuses are just as badly cooked as your food.”

She made a face and said “I just came to look up and see if you’re ok. You haven’t written for some time …”

“Because you read me a lot and I want to save something for myself. If I am left with nothing then you will leave me. Just like we discard a plate when there’s nothing left in it.”

Friend?

Frothy waves of the sea ... teasing the shore and scampering back. Reminded me of my childhood when I used to ring my neighbour’s doorbell and run away before anyone could open the door. All its mightiness and yet the sea did behave like an impish child at times.

We were building sandcastles by the sea. Aryan and I. I was making a horrible house while he was making a fine fort. Awful attempt of mine, earnest effort of his.

“Aryan! I can’t seem to get the walls right. It isn’t fair that your fort is coming out so well. Help me with my home.”

Without looking up, he said “No.”

“You heartless cold creature!”

“Thanks!”

“Why do you take pride in being called an iceberg?”

“Saves me from unnecessary drama. The less you care, the less you are hurt. An attitude that you really need to adopt.”

I just sat helplessly and stuck my tongue out at him.

Sensing it somehow, he said “Yes, see! That child inside you isn’t letting you build your sand house properly.”

In what I hoped was a sad voice, I said “You won’t help me? Is that what friends are for?”

He looked up at me. “Friends? Is that ... Is that just what we are? Wow!” And he continued with his fort.

“Ummm ... But then what are we?”

I don’t know why and how but the moment just paused in the air. I couldn’t pin it. His hands were busy and yet I could sense his mind being busy elsewhere. I didn’t say anything further. After nearly half an hour, we both had finished our architectural attempts with the sea sand. And we were now perhaps thinking of appropriate words to break the uneasy silence. What could be said that wouldn’t be ... and a dog came and scrambled our thoughts. I mean the ‘sandcastles’! We both broke up in laughter! An hour of handwork all ruined in a few seconds.

I smiled and said “Ok Aryan, I had better get going. “

“Sure. Take care. See you.”

And we parted ways.

Aryan and I had got acquainted with each other on a social networking site. From sharing opinions to jokes, discussing current affairs and occasionally some gossip as well, our chats never restricted themselves to any particular topic. What I liked most about his was his practical nature, nonchalant attitude and the most remarkable, his wit. Over time, the jokes shared between us got raunchier and ever so slowly the curtain that keeps the formal separate from the candid slipped off. I now discussed almost everything with him. All my worries, beau troubles. He listened patiently and somehow that made all the difference. Telling him my troubles made them vanish from my mind. He too shared his work schedules, his girlfriend and family matters with me. And then one day, we met. At a cafe.

He was the tall, dark and handsome guy of any girl’s dreams. For all his wit and talk, he was even better in person. I thought of all the personal things I had shared with him and my face coloured, much to his amusement. We talked and laughed and enjoyed our time together. Each time that he spoke of his girlfriend his eyes twinkled up and each time that his eyes twinkled up they touched my heart. I don’t know why. As if his smile was a candle flame and my heart was a mirror. I told him of my boyfriend, his fickle childish nature and he laughed, though I don’t know if at me or at my boyfriend.

Over the span of a few months, circumstances had changed. He was still with his girl while I had broken my heart, nursed it back and was moving on with life. And we met a few more times. Like today. But today was different. I couldn’t answer him. He was more than a friend. But then what do you call someone who is more than a friend? Given all its words, the vocabulary failed me.

I reached home and kept my handbag on the table. The mobile buzzed and I picked it. Aryan had messaged me. And as usual, as ever, as always, his message brought a smile on my lips.

I don’t know whether you will agree with him or not but his message read “Accomplice? :P” 

Sent by God

“I am sorry but what can I do?” Lorna spread her arms in the air, looking helpless. “I have to go. Peter cannot pick up Sylvia from the school and I have to pick her up”.

“Yes Lorna, I understand but you had promised ... How am I ever to finish all this by myself?”

She just shook her head and said “I am sorry but I have to go. I will make up for this after the Christmas holidays. Merry Christmas love!”

I just sighed and then smiled at her. “Merry Christmas Lorna! My love to Peter and Sylvia. And don’t worry I’ll finish it off here.”

She beamed her lovely smile at me and left.

I was staring at the paperwork and my computer. I was supposed to leave by 3:00 but I was lucky if I could leave the office before 4:00. Might as well get to the task at hand. I picked up the list of the people whom a personalised message had to be sent by the company ... and I heard Stefan’s cough.

“Why haven’t you left Stefan?”

“Waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to. Look, you won’t be paid overtime for just waiting.”

“No! No! I no do this for money. I wait for you. We leave together. See I already sign my timesheet for 3:00.”

Stefan was a cheerful cheeky Polish immigrant who worked as an office help, though he was mostly assigned menial tasks. He had come to London 6 months back and spoke broken English.

“Stefan! Just leave! Go home!” I said and got back to sending e-mails. Most of them done, now to contact the suppliers ... the clocked ticked away mercilessly ... A few more calls to make ... And it had now started to rain. Drab London weather. It was as if the skies always cried. No wonder many people here suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder...

“You want tea?”

“Stefan! I thought I had asked you to leave!”

“Ya! You want tea?”

“Stefan! Leave right now or else I will have you fired!”

I turned around and got back to putting files and folders away. At 4:15, I looked around the office. Everything done, no work left pending. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but knew that far much more hectic activity awaited me beyond these office doors. I put on my coat, took my bag and umbrella and locked the office door. Will be back after a week of Christmas holidays. I had to renew my travelcard, pick up medicines from the chemist, had to buy some extra gift paper, some groceries ... he had invited his friends yet again for a pre-Xmas dinner ... had to go home and cook ... and I had to face the rush hour commute on the Northern Line .. and my frozen shoulder was playing up very badly. Some holiday it was going to be with all those guests being invited over almost everyday ... I forgot when I had any time for myself ... Giving everyone else no chance to complain and completely neglecting myself ... I craved some time to myself ...

“Ah! You finish!”

“Stefan! You almost gave me a shock there! Why are you still here?” I asked as I was fidgeting with my brolly. He took it from my hand and opened it in a snap. And then handed it back to me.

“Er ... I want to give you something.”

“What Stefan?”

He came close and hugged me ... the hug of a friend. And suddenly I just started crying. Sobbing at first but then warm tears just kept rolling off my cheeks. Stefan just patted me as if I were a small child. “It is okay. You cry, you feel better”.

I felt slightly lighter but foolish too. Stefan gave me his handkerchief. “You better now?”

“Yes. Thank you Stefan. I don’t know what came over me. I was ...”

“No! No! You no explain. I understand. I see your eyes. I know you sad.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t get you”.

“See, when you smile in office only lips smile. Your eyes no smile. No twinkle in eye.”

I just blinked away. I didn’t realise I could be read so easily.

“Stefan, when I asked you to leave so many times, and quite rudely too, why did you stay behind?”

His answer has stayed with me even after all these years. “Ahh that! My mama tell me ‘when someone sad ask you to go away, you never go away. That person need you most. If that person then share his or her sadness, believe my child that the Lord himself send you as an angel to that person. You are blessed by the Lord himself’. I do this for myself ... and see you feel better, no?”

I smiled. I had tears in my eyes but I smiled. The warmth of human compassion which was lost to me had lit a candle inside me. Stefan smiled back. I hugged him and said “God bless you!”

“Ah! Thank you. You take care and Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Stefan! Have a safe trip to Poland and give my love to your mama!”

We parted our ways ... He probably feeling as angelic as he was and I ... I was feeling quite light in my heart. Yes I had troubles and responsibilities but to know that God was looking out for me and had sent his angel – the thought cheered me up immensely. I promised to myself that I too would try and be “an angel sent by God” to a person in need of basic human warmth, love and compassion. 

Yes, Stefan’s answer has stayed with me even after all these years.

Are you now feeling better, my child?

I sat on the bench, waiting for him to come. I had reached earlier than our agreed time. Maybe because I had a mind full of questions that needed answers and unless I got them, my life was going around in circles. It had lost its sense of direction. And as far as I thought he was duty bound to answer me. We hadn’t talked to each other for 3 months now. Or rather it was me who was avoiding him. The mere mention of his name felt like pieces of broken promises ... scattered all over ... for me to walk barefoot on. Oh! How they stung! I refuse to believe that he was unaware of my agony. But I finally decided to let him clear things for once and all.

The air was quite chilly and I rubbed my hands ... And suddenly I felt warmth. I knew he was beside me. His luminous presence hardly went unnoticed. I stiffened. Refused to look at him. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. Tears brimming up my eyes. A dam burst somewhere inside me. A dam full of murky hurt, fluid sorrow, drowning loss. Flowed out ... overwhelming me. I sought for tangible pieces of grief but all that I tasted was the salt of my own tears.

He sat down beside me. “Are you all right my child?”

“As if you care!”

He flinched at my words. “I do care for you. I listen to you always, even when you don’t address your words to me. I keep an eye on you always, whichever path you choose. That you don’t believe this is what we are here to resolve today.”

“Really? If you cared then you wouldn’t have taken my mother away from me so brutally. She was the one person who cared for me the most, who loved me the most, who selflessly wished the best for me. Now thanks to you I have no shoulder to cry upon, no hands to pat and console me, no lap in which I can rest my head. That night I had called out to you with all my heart and soul. I reprimanded those who said I was keeping false hopes. I cried inconsolably and not once did you to choose to stand by me. Those calls ... Those prayers ... All for nothing. Not only did I lose my mother that night, I also lost all faith in you.”

I sniffed and continued “There are people who are living their life with each foot in the threshold of either world. But you spare them. People who harm others and do not think twice before committing a heinous crime, say unkind words, see and yet ignore evil, are selfish and rotten to the core. Yet you spare them. People who are living but are unaware of life for it is nothing more than a punishment for them and their body is nothing more than a vegetable. But of course you spare them. So then why didn’t you spare my mother? She had known nothing else but to love her family, help those in need and had refrained from the common evils practised by many. Why? Why didn’t you answer me?”

And I sobbed ... For it was the only thing I did ever since my mother passed away.

His hand was still on my shoulder. “Don’t cry my child. Your mother is watching you and you are hurting her soul by grieving continuously. She loves you. Each one of you. I had to take her away. Believe me, it would have taken an enormous amount of strength for you to see her suffer physically. For each time that you prayed to me I gave her a minute more. But I myself cannot go against the very laws of nature that have been made by me.”

He ran his hand over my head. “I cannot reveal the future to you but you must believe me when I tell you that a chapter had to be ended in order for a new chapter to start. I had to change the course of the stream of all your lives – you and your siblings. And in order to achieve this I had to do what was necessary.”

“There is nothing wrong with our lives. Why mend what is not broken?”

“That is what you think. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“I just know that I miss my mom and my heart aches for her. I just want her back. And you were the only one from whom I had expected anything at all. You manifest yourself in female forms too. So I just find it hard to believe how you could never comprehend a woman’s loss in terms of motherhood” I almost whispered.

He now got up. His eyes and demeanour had turned slightly grave. Perhaps he was weary of explaining himself to me over and over again. “You will have to continue life without her and you will have to accept this loss. Your refusal, your stubbornness to do so is hurting all those who care for you. And you, my child, are surely not that selfish. One more thing – you keep saying ‘my mother’. She was your mother in this birth, in this form. She has taken other forms previously and will possibly be reborn many times over too. In every birth she may have been a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister, a friend, a loved one, a spouse, a father or a mother, a grandfather or grandmother, a nephew or niece ... But in every birth that she took and will take, one thing will remain constant – she will be my child, always and forever. Therefore do not grudge my taking her away ... For she is rightfully mine. Just as much as you are. Just as much as every being is.”

He looked at me with love and said “You have to forge ahead. Think of your mom and let the flame of her love brighten up your heart, especially when life feels like a dark stormy night. She is your guardian angel. Always protecting you and all of her children. Stop grieving and look carefully at what I have planted around you.”

I closed my eyes and opened them again ... to see a lovely sunshine ... to see birds chirping away while perched on tall trees ... to see flowers swaying around me ... the air carrying the scent of those flowers ... butterflies hovering around ... and He had gone. I smiled. After what seemed like eons ... I actually smiled from the heart. He had left a lightness in my heart, in my soul. And I managed to hold the hand of a passing shadow ... shadow of a person yet unknown to me ... knowing well that I was being watched over by Him and both my guardian angels – my dad and my mom.