How many years has it been? Four years or maybe more. I haven’t been here since Maa died. Will she be here? It’s the same banyan tree I grew up playing with; it turns scarier as the sun sets. We used to prank people by spreading rumors of seeing a vengeful ghost on that tree. As the sky turned golden, I slowed my pace.
My eyes grazed over the same old main gate and the beautiful jasmine plant on that. She always loved flowers, this house once filled with the glory of flowers, now looks a little empty. There are still a few potted plants, but her ‘personal touch’ as she used to say is missing. I walked past their house and settled down on the bench near the bus stop as my knees ached a little. Funny how time flies, I remember how we both prepared for our finals during college. Even though we both went to the city our parents trusted us with each other. Her room was about 10 minutes away from mine. We used to meet up at Chai-licious café. Her preparing for exams to be a Chartered Accountant and me to be a general surgeon. Days were tedious and stressful but they were a little easier with her. I love how she used to ramble and animate things just to make me laugh.
It was cardiac arrest, a major stroke. He couldn’t wait for me by the time I flew back from America. It used to be my dream country and I settled there after marriage. I asked him and begged him many times to come with me, but he never once agreed saying, “I can never stay away from my mother.” Out of anger, out of hurt, I left and I was adamant about bringing him to my place even if it meant being petty and not talking to him. He never once budged, he smiled and laughed making me feel small about my pettiness. Sharadha and the kids loved him. Past four years they visited him whenever they could, but I didn’t. For a 40-year-old person to be this petty and childish over a small thing I don’t know what I should tell myself. I was being petty because I missed him so much. I wanted him near me all the time and I wanted to take care of him like he did for me. Every time he said no, it prickled my heart and poison spread all over my chest.
“Haha, how stupid of me”, I say out loud slapping my forehead and covering my eyes not able to contain my tears anymore. This isn’t the first time, is it? I mess things up, get hurt and I hurt the people I love when all I want to do is love them. I walk back to home. Our house was filled with relatives and village people. The cries of women have calmed down since yesterday. It was heart-wrenching, yesterday noon, their cries pierced my soul. I could see how much they valued my father. He was a calm and wise person. He was always patient with his life, hands, and people. I couldn’t stop my tears as I saw his photograph framed on the wall, it was a picture I’d taken which he never liked and it wasn’t there until four years ago. I rushed in through the stairs and shut the door of my room once I got in. I sobbed and choked on my tears gasping for air. It is painful, it’s aching. My heart, my chest, my lungs. Why am I even alive? It should’ve been me. I wish I arrived early. I wish I talked to him. It’s all my fault. Please god, please…can you please bring him back once? Please I just want to tell him I love him.
“It’s okay Raghu,” a pair of arms hug my head closely as I cry.
“I just want to tell him I love him,” she hugged me while I cried, I wiped my tears roughly as fresh tears started rolling and we separated. That is when I saw her properly. She is here.
“Mallika”, I say not able to grasp if she is real or not. She moves her hands, her bangles clinking as she holds the vessel to pour chai into two steal glasses. I wait patiently for her as she returns with two glasses full of hot chai. We sip and slurp in silence. She is the same, yet something within her changed somehow. I want to ask her why she’s here, after all this time. I want to ask her, why she did not even try to contact me for once.
“He talked about you a lot, we used to talk about your biryani all the time.” She pauses as if giving me time to process everything. Mallika. My father. His love.
“He never admitted openly about how much he missed you, but we all could see it in his eyes. He is a free spirit. He enjoyed his time alone doesn’t mean he never wanted you over. He just wanted to reminisce in the memories of his wife and rest in his village.”
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty, Malli?” I say, her nickname- Malli rolls off my tongue before I can stop it.
“You know what, you deserve it,” she says in a nonchalant tone. I take a huge breath in, knowing she is right. I could never win her, even if I took classes.
“Yes, it is my fault. Yes, he died because of me. Happy?” I say not able to control my anger
“He did not die because of you. It is your fault that you are aching so badly right now.” she speaks sipping her chai unbothered.”
“Are you sure you are ready for my psychoanalysis about you?”
“You are a psycho and your analysis is bullshit.”
“ I see. Still a dumbo” she says and laughs softly and that triggers me.
“Why are you here in the first place? You never cared about me. Why are you here now?”
“Let’s say," she says and takes a pause, I know it all too well she is going to spew some nonsense.
"My husband wants me to hook up with you,” she says and smirks.
“Are you kidding me right now? Get out.” I say boiling with anger
“Okay, baba chill. Chalo I will go help Sharadha with dinner.”
Soon it was dinner time and I locked myself in. I sent away all the relatives who came to my room to ask me about the dinner. Their pity stares, and sad expressions irritated me. It wounded my heart more, it’s like the whole world is trying to make me feel guilty. Yes, I am guilty goddamnit! This is not going to work, I need some alone time. I climb the stairs and go to the terrace. The crescent moon is shining brightly, I can still hear the distant caws of crows and the chirping of cicadas. The slow breeze caressed me and I calmed down. As I was reliving all my memories with my dad, someone tapped on my shoulder. I wasn’t surprised to find Sharadha.
“Hey, you”
“Hey, you.”
“How are you?”
“I’m okay.” She hugs me from the side as she lays her head on my chest.
“I have something to tell you,” she says.
“Mmm,” I hum. Her presence healed my ache a bit.
“Dad doesn’t blame you. He loved you. He would never blame you”
“I know that’s why it hurts me more. It’s going to take time for me to be okay”
“Yea… Mallika is such a joy to be around.”
“She’s a pain in the ass.”
“Hehe… that is only with you. And you are such a baby”
“Seriously?”, I say rolling my eyes.
“Raghu..” she calls me out slowly hesitating to utter the next words
“Mallika came when mom passed away.”
“What..?”
“Yes.. in fact, she was the one constantly checking up on Dad and took him for health checkups.”
“I..I….Why??”
“You should talk to her Raghu. Properly.”
I nod not able to say anything, she removes herself from me and leaves. It’s been 10 years since I saw Mallika. It’s been 10 years since we have spoken to each other. All this while she was in touch with everyone but me? She took care of my parents when I couldn’t. We had a big fight, didn’t we? We insulted each other and we cussed and swore we would never see each other. Then why did she? How could she?
“Want some chai?” Mallika asks standing five feet apart from me.
“Much needed,” I say kneading my forehead.
“Why? Why did you..do all this?”
“What do you mean why? They literally raised me. How can I not be there? ”
“Then why did you not talk to me?”
“See it wasn’t my intention to go behind your back and attend Aunty’s funeral. I was late because of a meeting and you left by the time I arrived. And… you were a jerk to me. So you didn’t deserve to see me.”
“Wow,” I breathed out. I laughed feeling stupid. All this time the people I ached so badly for, because of whom I was so hurt did nothing but love me. They loved me to the point they put up with all my wrongdoings against them. It was me who couldn't forgive myself.
“You still care for me. After all this time.”
“After all this time.”
I smile feeling loved and like an idiot and I look at her only to see tears in her eyes.
“So what are we…?” I ask, knowing that would trigger her witty comebacks.
“Mmm acquaintances as of now, but if you work hard I might promote you to the friend post.”
“What about the best friend post?”
“Some jerk hurt me like shit, since then it’s been empty.”
“ I want that.”
“You need to work hard for that”
“I will do my best ma’am,” I say, putting my right hand on my heart as I lift the left hand in the air posing like SRK and we stand together under the moonlight smiling like idiots.
