An independant old house in the middle of the bustling city, but pretty isolated from the noise and dust of the crowd, sad in it's looks... the bricks showing at quite a few places and the wood worn out in the roof. The chill winter winds are rustling the dried leaves that cover the front of the house. A small dog of pomarenian breed, with a small bell tied to it's neck, runs out of the house chased by a small boy of around seven years. He is dressed in short pants and fullsleeves and there are giggles disturbing the otherwise silent place.
An old woman sits in the portico, close to the door, just right enough to have an eye on the outside. Her wrinkles are clearly seen in the day light when she is busy trying to makeout the letters from the local newspaper. She ofcourse has a pair of spectacles but havent quite found it useful for the past few months. She also has a hearing aid adding up as an extra layer to her tender ears. She has a very thin frame, almost sunk - timid and small into the rocking chair.
A voice resonates from inside the house. "Babloo... come and drink your milk" The boy still giggles and plays with the dog not minding his mother's call. The voice raises "Babloo! Did you finish your homework yet? Now, stop playing and come in." The boy looksup sensing the threat to his freedom and happiness and turns towards his granny. She was watching him closely and that is enough to tell him "Come to me, child!" He runs, hugs her and says "I'll finish the homework later, mom. I have one more day to go to school" The granny caresses him affectionately and says "Yes Neeta, let him play when he wants to. He has an entire day to do the other work, doesnt he" Her voice shivers and breaks in between due to the ripe age while she manages to shape up the words without her teeth. She hears back "Babloo... come inside....now!" She gives a sorry look to the boy and helplessly trying to console him, says "Why wouldnt you finish your homework and then play, beta? Then your mom wont say anything!" placing her hand in his cheeks. He tossess her hands off in anger and walks in. She could understand his anger. What she couldnot understand is the indifference that Neeta has been showing her.
She sinks into the chair rocking herself a little bit and fixing her eyes on the red post box tied to the white gates of her house.
When she looks at me, I feel she looks beyond me. When I speak to her, she never seemed to have heard it. When I look at her and try to smile, I couldnt see a muscle move in her face. Neeta was not like this when she came to this house, wedded to Rahul, nine years ago. She was the sweetest girl I ever found and I have the same soft corner for her even now. What have I done that could have upset her? For the past couple of years, I have not got a straight response from her! At this point, a surge of anguish and frustration makes her pale cheeks turn pink. She closes her eyes to hide herself within her.
Babloo comes and wakes his granny...
"Granny, lunch is ready. Come, I'm hungry!"
"Oh dear, did I doze off?" she asks, surprised at herself. She smiles at the boy, a smile so radiant like a child's, for she now knows the boy has his anger gone and is back in her arms.
Isnt it how it is supposed to be? Anger or disappointment dissolved with time?It's around five-thirty in the evening and the granny is in her designated place, the rocking chair, still with the same news paper. A cute girl enters the gates and smiles at her but she seems to have trouble recognizing her.
"Who is this sweet girl?" saying so, she drags the kid a bit closer.
The kid says smilingly, "Granny, I'm Nimmi! You forgot?"
Nimmi's mother says "Just thought we would invite you neighbours for her birthday party tomorrow"
"Oh, how nice. Why dont you go in? Neeta is at home"
Neetha receives them in the hall.
"Aunty, tomorrow's my birthday. Will you come to wish me?"
"Oh, yes my dear... definitely!" Neeta smiles so elegantly and looks up at Nimmi's mother. "So, you are able to manage the party arrangements? Do tell me if we can do anything for you."
Nimmi's mother smiles appreciatively. "We have not finished with the arrangements quite yet.... So, can I count all four of you for the party?"
"Surely!" says Neeta, just realizing the count of four, hurrys to say "Well, granny wont be coming"
"Oh why not? I donot see her go out. She can come over atleast for a change"
"I wish. But what can she do but to sit there alone when we would be busy with arrangements?"
Seeing a slight disappointment in Nimmi's face and the unconvinced look on her mother's Neeta quickly adds "And her health is not quite good. Rahul will not allow her to strain herself"."Babloo doesnt have school tomorrow. We shall come over by morning and help you with the arrangements!" Neeta finishes with a kind tone.
Granny can listen to this from outside.
Something was strange in Neeta's reply, or, was it all normal? She couldn't quite understand it wholly nor does she have any strength to try and think about it anymore. She decides to sleep early today.
It is next day morning. The sun is bright and morning light fills the whole house with vibrance. Granny is back on her chair in the verandah, looking at the trembling leaves and smiling at the chirping birds. There is she and the house, left all to themselves. Suddenly it all dawns on her.... that which has been troubling her for all this while.
"What 'can' she do?" - Is that it? The reason for all this indifference? All these days? The way she has been treating me... as if I am dead already when I'm still breathing? The unbiased impartial unconcern for something (someone) that is totally useless to her? What more pain and humiliation can anyone give me than this? Is there no value for all the love and care I showered on them? Is there no importance in my existence to any one, any more? Where is all my dignity gone all of a sudden? Am I... really dead? She couldnot cry. She couldn't swallow or say a word. There is a numbness she is feeling through out her body - when she's deliberately trying to resist what she is feeling.... trying to be indifferent to herself, when she had just realized, rather, heared it all. Everything blacks-out when she closes her dry aching eyes. She could no more feel the sun or the birds. She is looking all the more tiny in that chair than ever and the house, all the more mournful!
I see through that veil of yours,
