Wife On wheels Chapter 3

The days after that followed a typical pattern. Office in the morning, back home by 5, Manas would drop in by 6 p.m, then, they would work on the website. He took charge of the website, Prerna was the information digger. She would sit curled up on the sofa, making calls and providing inputs, while he typed away. It invariably ended with them sharing dinner. Depending on the workload, she would either cook or they would order a pizza from Pizza hut. Sometimes Manas would take over the kitchen duty. Dinner was a very light-hearted affair. Prerna really couldn’t remember when she had laughed so much. Life seemed so bright and so full of fun. Prerna actually started waking up with a smile and looking forward to the evenings.   1

The day her bank balance reached the magic 7 digit number, Prerna decided it was time to buy her own house. Right now she rented a ground floor apartment which though catering to her requirements wasn‘t her own. The threat of the owner asking her to vacate it was a constant fear in her. Ever since she had stepped out of the orphanage, she had dreamt of owning her own house - her piece of land in the vast city. It would be something she owned not just used. But pressing needs had always forced her to postpone the buying. Her chosen career required her to lease an office in the “posh” area of the city, where people would consider fitting in a wedding planner in their budget. Then once the office was rented, she had to set it up in style, so that people would think the business was prosperous. Its funny how, many people go by the ambience of the place rather than the talent of the individuals behind the place. A beautiful facade is what draws people in. Most of her inheritance went away in that. Once the office was ready the question that popped was how to get there. Renting a place within “walking” distance was out of question. The monthly rent would be way beyond what she could afford. She had tried commuting by the handicapped compartment of the local trains for a week. At the end of that time, she knew she had to buy a car or risk ending up at the hospital instead of the office. 2

Getting in the Mumbai local trains is a fine art and a challenge, even for a person with two legs. As for Prerna, she felt as if she had sprinted a 100 mile Olympic. By the time she got back her breath, it was time to get down. Translate as sprint time again. And then there were all the visits she had to make to her clients office, the caterers, bridal outfitters and so on. The nature of her job decreed a lot of travel. In that sense she would be saving a lot in the long run by investing in a car.  3

Buying a car, even a second hand one and then getting the modifications required to customize it for her use, ate up her house account even before it was started. 4

This time though, she was determined to go ahead and “do” it. Her “great hunt” as Leela christened it, started with the insertion of an advertisement in the morning newspapers. Replies poured in but the house she sought remained stubbornly elusive. She didn’t bother to reply to the letters. The houses offered were either too big or too small, too costly or too dingy. If it met all her conditions, it was on the second floor and the apartment didn’t have an elevator or else the locality wasn’t a desirable one.5

It was Manas who ultimately found the dream house. During one of their evenings together, she had confided about her search for the perfect house. It turned that Manas knew of a house which met all her conditions, rather he owned it.     6

“It is located just behind X’tacy. X’tacy was actually the family haveli4 passed down generations in my father‘s side. The first house my parents moved to. They found it too big and cumbersome to maintain so they moved to a more manageable place when we went off to college. So in a sense, it is my childhood house where all my memories are bound up. When Mansi and I decided to pitch it alone, so as to say, my parents came up with the idea of converting it into our boutique. It is entailed so we can’t sell it. It was in a prime location and with a little bit of modifications it would make a fantastic place with lot of propensity for expansion. We decided that the hall and the bedrooms would be knocked into one to make the ground floor shop. Similarly the first floor. The second floor bedrooms became our offices and my studio. The third floor became the warehouse. Now, the house I have in mind for you is a sweet little cottage located just behind the main building. There is a lawn separating it from the main house which will ensure your privacy. This cottage used to be the gate-keeper’s cottage but it hasn’t been used in ages. It has a front hall, two bedrooms, a kitchen and an antiquated portico. Mansi and I have been looking for a buyer for it for ages. The grounds along with this cottage were bought later so they aren’t part of the entailment. But the buyer had to be someone we knew. Why don’t you come and have a look?”7

Prerna was sorely tempted. But her heart held a strange trepidation too. Though she might fiercely deny it, Manas had become a permanent fixture in her dreams and the recurring theme of the dreams was not all that comforting either. As thing stood now, as soon as Mansi’s wedding was through and the website launched, she could revert their relationship to a more business like one. She was getting addicted to Manas’s company and it was not very good for her peace of mind. Buying a house smack behind Manas’s shop would mean they would constantly bump into each other. Bumping into each other meant they would exchange a few words, which she would dreamily recollect the whole day. Could she survive that? On the other hand, what reason could she possibly give for refusing to even see the house? It would be downright churlish to refuse point-blank. Again she couldn’t very well tell him the truth. 8

And there was another factor too. If she wanted to seduce him into marrying her, she had to present her best part to him. And she wasn’t really a person who remained at her best all day. He had to fall in love with her first and then love her warts. It was too much to expect him to fall for her warts first. Yet there was no way out of it. She reluctantly agreed to “see” the house and promised herself that she would hate it.9

She loved it. 10

The moment she set her eyes upon it, her dream house and the one sitting snugly in front of her, merged into one. It was utterly beautiful and cozy. Painted beige with brick red tapering roofs, it looked right out of one of the fairy tales her mother used to read to her, as a kid. 11

She could not take her eyes off the cottage. Three little steps led up to the front portico. Goodness me, what was this? There was even a wheelchair ramp leading up to the portico. She knew it was ridiculous, but she could feel the house smiling in welcome.         12

The interior was as charming as the exterior. A rectangular hall ran the length of the house. It opened to a bedroom on the right and a kitchen cum dining hall on the right. There was another small bedroom at the rear straight ahead. The size was just perfect for her. If she closed her eyes for a minute, she could picture the meager furnishing she possessed fitting perfectly in the house. The Rajasthani wall prints on the front room hall, the Kashmiri carpet, the deep cane chairs she had bought at a market scattered randomly around the room, the sofa against the wall facing the door, the computer against the wall shared by the bedroom. 13

Prerna entered the bedroom and could instantly picture her single cot in the center of the room. Her dressing table would stand against the distant wall and she could place her work table under the picture window in the wall ahead. Seated there she could drink in her fill of the Arabian Sea lapping up the shores. Better yet, she could convert the spare bedroom into an office. Once the website took off, she would have a lot on her hands and she could work peacefully from the house. Yeah, she could get a computer, a phone line, a fax machine fitted there and work away. It didn’t have the view of the beach, but looked out on huge buildings which housed the core of Bombay’s corporate gurus.14

It was divine. But she would refuse. Of course she would. There were many houses like this in Mumbai. She could find another. She could say the house was too small, the rooms too big, the roof a little crooked, the design all wrong. She could anything but what was in her heart. That she loved the house and wanted to rent the house.15

She went out to find Manas. He was sitting cross legged in the portico, busily sketching away on his handkerchief with a piece of coal he had found somewhere. A wave of tenderness engulfed Prerna. 16

“Manas? “17

“hmmm? “18

“I will take it”19

“I know. The keys are in the window behind me. The contract is all typed up and ready to be signed.” 20

Peeping over his shoulders Prerna saw him busily sketching the lines of an evening dress. He didn’t even turn and look at her but kept adding details to his sketch.21

Dart the man. He looked so smug that Prerna wished she had something heavy to fling at him. He had been so sure she would rent the place. She almost felt like telling him she had changed her mind. But again, that would only make him whoop and call her a kid.22

The deal was signed the same day. Mansi popped 3 cans of Coke - all three of them being teetotalers - to seal the deal. 23

Now all that remained was to move in. There was even a good amount left over in her bank. She had bought a little bit of land surrounding the house, so that she could have a little garden. She also decided to get a picket fence erected so that the house would be cordoned off from the shop and she wouldn’t have shoppers wandering into her house.24

She decided to move in within two days. Now that the house was hers, she was anxious to move. Moving took longer than she expected. She had fervently promised herself that she would throw away all the junk accumulated over the years and take only what was absolutely required. 25

Except that Prerna found there was no junk in the house. Everything was a memorabilia triggering off thoughts of some cherished memory. In a life so devoid of softer emotions of life - as hers had been - such moments assumed giant proportions, to be leant on, savored, remembered with a smile, clung to with a desperation when life became very tough.  She found herself boxing them all up carefully to savor again in leisure. Her personal “instant-melancholy-fix” formula.26

Rummaging deeper into the closet, her hands landed on a plastic bag covered with a thin layer of dust. She drew it out and wiped off the dust with a piece of wet cloth she had handy. As soon as she recognized the cover, she wished she had not taken it out. Small though the bag was, it contained the only material links to her parents. The others were the fiercely guarded memories bottled in her heart. With passage of time, she couldn’t say how many were real and how many she wished were real. Was her father really as handsome as she remembered and did her mother really sing as beautifully as she remembered her to? Had they really loved her as she remembered or were they all wishes conjured up by a yearning heart and merged into reality to such an extent that she didn’t know anymore what was what. 27

Driven by a strange compulsion Prerna slowly opened the bag and drew out the contents. On the top were the death certificates of her parents - Mr. C.K. Raman and Mrs. Divya Raman it read. Girls store letters of love written by their parents, Prerna only had a death certificate. Next was a grainy photo. A tall man with a coffee colored skin stood almost painfully erect next to a dainty woman with skin as fair as the proverbial snow. She was so small, the top of her head barely reached his chest. From the photo Prerna estimated her to be barely 5’. He was wearing a dark colored suit and she was in a heavy silk saree with chunky gold jewels adorning her. What was apparent in the picture was their love for each other. Her Appa5 was looking so happy, with a subtle pride in his face and Amma6 looking with blatant worship at her husband. It was the wedding picture of her parents and the only one they had. Amma had carried it with her everywhere. That’s how it was with her today. Next on the small pile was another photo of the same couple a little older now. The man was now carrying a little girl all dressed up. It was Prerna. 28

Prerna’s eyes misted over as she remembered the day when it was taken. It was her 5th birthday and Amma and Appa had taken her to the studio to be photographed. She remembered Amma oiling her hair and plaiting it neatly into two. They hung below her shoulder and were neatly doubled up and tied with a ribbon. Two little bows near her ears framed her face. She used to have ribbons to match every new frock. During the day she wore black ribbons so that she wouldn’t dirty them and in the evenings when Appa came home, she would be all dressed up and waiting near the door for him. Prerna remembered her mother would be all prettied up when her father came home too. It was quaint and sweet.29

“Prerna kutty7” he would call Prerna. She had loved the sound of his deep laughter as he swung her in his arms. Sometimes he would toss her in the air and catch her. She had always loved burrowing against his deep chest. The best times of the day was when she would lie down for the night between her parents. Each of them would have a hand on her tummy. Appa would then tell her, stories. She was a voracious listener and would continually pester him for more. Her favorite though, was the story of how Appa and Amma married. 30

“Tell me Appa”,  she would squeal31

“But Prerna kutty, you know it by heart”32

“Tell me anyway” she would demand.33

And he would. And his deep voice transformed it into a fairy tale more interesting than any by Hans Christian Andersen.34

At least for her anyway.35

She was rudely awakened from the travails in to past by the sound of the doorbell. She swiftly wiped the tell tale dampness on her cheeks and went to answer the door.36

It was Manas, as she should have known. The man seemed to have radar for her emotional downs.37

He was looking at her keenly now38

“You okay Prerna? You look washed out.”39

“Yeah I am fine. Just tired.”40

He walked in and with the instinct of a jungle cat headed straight for the work table. Picking up the photos he looked at them for a while and then smiled at her. 41

“I don’t need to ask who they are. You have your mother’s face in your father’s complexion.”  His voice dropped an octave and became almost tender. “Want to talk about it?”42

Prerna had never talked to anybody about her parents. The details were too painful to remember.  But... But may be it was the tender note in his voice or the fact that she had been dwelling on the past when he came in. What ever the reason, she started talking.43

“Amma, Appa and me lived in Chennai. I remember the house so clearly. We lived in the first floor of a two storey apartment. What I remember the most is that there was a bug window in the kitchen. I would stand there in the evenings waiting for Appa to come home.  I remember that and the string of jasmines that always adorned Amma;s hair. It was so long and thick. She always wore it in a long rope down her back. I used to always wish that I had such long hair when I became as big as Amma. I was Amma’s shadow the whole day - a permanent fixture to her saree pallu. As I was their only child they indulged me. I guess you could say I was pampered. They never let me out of their sight. I did have a room of my own. But I was never in it. I was happiest trailing behind Amma while she worked. Amma had a very soft and melodious voice. She used to sing in the kitchen while she cooked. Old Tamil folk songs filled the house when she worked. She used to seat me on the dining table while she hovered around the gas stove. Sometimes she would tell me stories about her own childhood with her brothers and sisters. It seemed to me as if Amma’s house was always full of people. When I asked Amma why nobody came to our house, she would say “They live far away now Prerna, They will come one day.” And then I would dream of the day all my uncles would come to visit me.” 44

“Mostly we sang. The kitchen was my school, she would teach me nursery rhymes, the alphabets and numbers. Amma made learning so much fun. Sometimes when Appa insisted, she would take out the veena and play it for him. The melodious lilt of the strings would fill the house. I never understood the meaning of what she played but she looked so blissfully happy when she played that I would smile. I would climb into her lap and ask her to teach me to play too. She would place my little fingers on the strings and place her own long fingers on top of mine and take me through the basics. After a while, I would grow bored and wander off somewhere.”45

Almost always Appa would say “Divya you are throwing away all your talent. You should be playing on the radio”46

Amma would smile and say “Then who will take cook for you two and take care of Prerna kutty?” 47

Prerna kutty. They always called me that. 48

“Prerna kutty I am home.” Appa would call from the door when he came. I would always run helter skelter to the door and fling myself in his arms. He would catch me in his arms and lift me. I always poked in his shirt pocket and found something for me. A chocolate, a new ribbon, something would always be there. 49

Then he would hand Amma a string of jasmine flowers thickly strung on a thread and wrapped in a leaf. Amma would tuck it in her hair and retreat to the kitchen to make Appa his customary glass of coffee.50

Coffee. Hmm Appa always smelt of coffee. He consumed gallons of it. Whenever I think of Appa, I can see him reclining on the rocking chair, his feet propped on a stool, face buried behind the newspaper and a glass of coffee in his hand.51

Appa smelt of coffee when he came to wake me up in the morning. 52

“Prerna kutty” he would say “time to rise and shine.”53

I would burrow deeper into the blankets and pretend to be asleep. He would then strip off the blankets tangled around me. Lifting me off the bed, he would carry me to the bathroom, saying “Life is so beautiful, my child. Every extra minute you spend in bed, you miss out on life.”54

“Life is beautiful, Appa always said. But he was wrong. Wrong. It isn’t beautiful. It is cruel.  He who advised me not advised me not a miss a minute of it, missed out on life after 30. I was 8 when my parents died. My Appa was 32 and Amma just 27.”55

Unable to control herself, Prerna broke into sobs. heart wrenching sobs broke out of her in great gulps. It was as if a dam had broken loose. She had never cried for herself. Crying meant weakness and implied that she wasn’t in control. And where surviving was a skill, there was no time for weakness. But now, she broke loose and cried for a life spent without her parents. She rallied against a fate which had changed her whole life in a split second.56

All the while, Manas held her and let her cry. He didn’t say a single word, just held her close in his arms, periodically patting her head and she knew he understood. Without uttering a single word, a bond was forged between us. 57

And now that Prerna had started to dig into the past, she wanted to tell it all. The past had been locked in her heart for a long time. May be it was time to let it out and make peace with it.58

She closed her eyes and steadied herself.59

It was my eighth birthday when tragedy struck. I had pestered Amma and Appa for a birthday party. I wanted to invite all my friends from school and I demanded the biggest cake of all from Appa. The day before my birthday Appa came home early from office and took me out to select the cake. I remember pressing my nose against the glass display case and carefully deliberating on the choice of the cake. It was so tough, I liked them all. Finally I chose a yellow colored one. It was shaped like a star and had icing fairies dancing on it. Appa bought it and we walked home hand in hand. I remember Appa buying me a pink sugar candy from a street side vendor. I managed to get more on my face than inside my mouth. When we approached the street where my house was situated, I tried to get the candy off my face by wiping the ends of my frock against it but I only managed to make a mess on both my frock and my face. I steeled myself for a lecture on cleanliness from Amma.60

Amma opened the door even before we rang the bell. One look at her face and I knew something had happened. Amma was positively sparkling with joy.  61

As soon as we were inside the house Amma said “There was a phone call from Sridhar Mama. Amma and Appa want us to come back home. They have forgiven us and want us to live with them. “  62

Appa frowned and said “Divya, so many years have passed. Why are they remembering us now? “63

“They are old. They were angry because we did not obey them. Now that they want to take us back into their fold, why do you stick to what’s past and done with? “64

I stared from Appa to Amma not realizing what they were talking about. Sridhar Mama? Who was he? And why was his phone call making Amma so happy. And why wasn’t Appa smiling? It seemed as if he was lost in some far away world. Appa was still holding my birthday cake in his hand.65

Suddenly both of them became aware of my presence66

“Prerna” Appa said “keep the cake in the fridge and make yourself a glass of juice”67

I looked worriedly at the two of them. “You are not going to fight with Amma, are you? “68

Sudha, the girl who sat next to me at school had told me that her parents always sent her out of the room when they fought.69

Both Amma and Appa smiled. Amma said “No. we are not. We want to discuss what to give you for your birthday. It has to be a surprise right? So now go.”70

I reluctantly went. But I knew something was up. I stuck my ears against the kitchen wall and tried to hear what they were saying but all I could hear was a low hum of voice. After five minutes, Amma and Appa walked into the room all smiles. Appa had his hand on Amma’s shoulder. They both came where I was perched on the kitchen window sill.71

“Prerna kutty, your grandpa wants to meet you. “72

“Why” I asked with all the directness of a child73

“He wants to meet my princess. Amma and I thought we would leave tomorrow and come back on Monday.”74

“What about my birthday party?”75

“Tell you what? You can have two. We will take the cake with us and celebrate with grandpa and grandma. You have many cousins there. Once we get back, we will have another party here for your friends.”76

It sounded too good to be true. I gave them a suspicious look and asked “Promise? “77

“Sure”78

“Double promise?” I asked solemnly79

Amma laughed her tinkling laugh and said “Yeah my child. Double triple promise. Now come help me pack”80

“Can I take the new yellow frock?  It matches with my cake. And what about the white one with red flowers.? “81

It was all an adventure. We had never gone to visit any relatives. I had never even known we had any. Amma was very happy and was chattering away as I helped her pack. She told me about the big 3 storey house where Appa’s father lived.   She said there was a farm behind it where we grew rice. I remember being astounded that we actually grew rice and asking her why we bought them at the shop then and why didn’t grandpa just send it to us. “Because its so far away my child” Amma said. Amma began to talk about her memories of that place and I just curled and slept away listening to the steady drone of her voice. Next morning I woke up even before Appa came for me and ran to my room, where Amma and Appa would have kept my birthdays gifts. To my delight I found a huge teddy bear almost as tall as me. 82

Dancing in joy I ran back to my parents and woke them up. Amma always made kheer on my birthday. I did not like it overmuch but I was too excited to complain. We were going on a journey.  In a huge train.  Appa told me that as much as 500 people would be t in the same train with us. Imagine 500. I couldn’t stand still on my feet. Appa went and hired an auto rickshaw for us to go to the railway. 83

When we reached the railway station, I was agog with wonder. So many people jostling and hurrying. The porters with red uniforms and shiny metal plates on their arms, the vendors yelling their wares and the atmosphere constantly interspersed  with the shrill whistle of a passing train. I was hanging on to Amma’s hand and drinking in the whole sight. The inside of the train was held the same kind of fascination to me. We had a window seat. I immediately went and sat there, my nose pressed tight against the windowpane, gazing outside to my heart’s content. Amma occasionally reprimanded me for keeping my hand outside the window, I just nodded abstractedly and continued looking out of the window. The rolling meadows and  the tall pine trees we passed held unwavering attraction for me. We were going to a place whose name I couldn’t pronounce. Thiru-thiru-thiru something. I turned back and asked Appa again. “Thiruchirapalli baby” he says. 84

I turned back to my window and hummed along with the rhythmic sound of the train. As night fell, I couldn’t see anything outside the window. Appa lifted me on the upper berth and told me to go sleep. It was an adventure. I had never been up so high.”85

Caught in her narrative Prerna lost track of present and the past. Rocking herself, she became once more the little kid in the train. “I am slightly scared that I would fall of and then chastise myself. Only babies are scared and I am big girl now. Last years school frock does not even reach my knee now. I have really grown up. Lost in thoughts I doze off. I am suddenly woken up by the some sound. Everyone is yelling and I can hear my Amma calling me “Prerna! Prerna!” I try to get down But I can’t. The train seems so be swaying more than usual.  I hold on to the chains in my berth and start crying. I don’t care that I am grown up. I want my Appa to carry me. I don’t like this train. It is scary. Suddenly I feel the train fall to the right, I hit my head against the side of the train and fall down. I can feel a pain in my legs as something falls on me. Then a welcome blackness descends on me.86

She went to the fridge and took out two cans of Coke.   87

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. A friendly doctor tried to tell me as kindly as possible that Amma and Appa had gone to heaven to live with God. I was surprised. Why? I asked. They live with me. Don’t they love me anymore? It took me a while to understand that they had died. They were never coming back. The people at the hospital were kind and nursed me back to health. They even tried to trace my relatives. But the only thing I knew was my parents name and Sridhar’s name. They put an advertisement in the newspaper but no one ever replied. May they didn’t see it. May be they didn’t relate it to them. What ever. I couldn’t stay in the hospital indefinitely. After a while, I was moved to the orphanage in Mumbai .That is where I met my Jayanthi. She had been there all her life. We became fast friends and each others support system. We didn’t have anything to complain about in life. We had a roof over our head, clothes to cover ourselves and food in the belly. But there was nothing to rejoice about either. We could stay in the orphanage only till I was 18. That’s when I came into my inheritance. Appa had set up a trust fund, according to which I came into money when I turned 18. Jayanthi and me rented a house and entered the work flow. The one thing I really regret is that I never got to say goodbye to my parents. I never even got to see them. The last memory I have of my parents is Appa shouting for me and Amma trying to reach me. Their bequest to me is just these few pieces of paper and this..”88

Prerna went to the closet and pulled out a worn teddy bear which was almost 4” tall. Hugging it she unashamedly wept.89

Manas knelt down in front of her. Cupping her face in his hands he asked, “Prerna, I love you. Will you marry me? “90