Forgotten Tales Series 1

A short Summary : This is a series of stories on "the ordinary women" whose lives are/were interconnected, some more - some less....they are based on one or more events that affected/changed their lives...

The stories are true as far as the basic plot  goes....the rest of the wordplay is the author's portrayal....

Apologies to any one who finds her story here....

A Blow From The Past 

She stood on the long corridor undecided, a vacant stare at nothing in particular. Totally oblivious to the glances of the ladies passing her by which, would have on any other day infuriated her.....not even the activities on the busy street below caught her attention. It was the fourth day of her stay here and she was already regretting it. The impulsive act that had led her to her current situation...standing outside dingy, dim rooms and surrounded by noisy, nosy neighbours.

Home seemed bigger all of a sudden....She would be sipping her tumbler of flavoured milk before beginning her late afternoon chores. Her duties varied from day to day, most days involved drying clothes in the backyard before going to school, folding them neatly on returning, pestle and mortar grinding of coffee powder and other ingredients needed for the meal in the evening. On other days helping the ladies of the house take stock of and arrange the groceries in the store room, baby sitting her younger siblings and cousins. Though the work was monotonous and tiring, she took pride in a job well done. Home that meant siblings and cousins who lived under the same roof with whom she shared many happy moments, who would miss her. Chatting and sharing a laugh with friends who walked the 3 kms to school and back with her. Tears rolled down silently at the thought of not seeing them again, defeated, she blew her nose noisily and went back to staring.

Whilst lost in these thoughts she spied the figures approaching the chawl (a large tenement house) that seemed hauntingly familiar...One of them with drooping shoulders and a dazed gait, walking at some distance behind the others was the one she was well acquainted with. The two who comprised the middle of the little group wore gritty expressions. They were led by a scowling policeman in mufti (without the uniform), instantly recognisable. He had, after all, been her neighbour for the past few days. He must have been the one who had gotten in touch with them. He had displayed scepticism at the story on her sudden appearance at Vivek’s place.

He had turned up at dinner on her second day there. Vivek told her that it was his usual routine when his sister was around. The orphans looked on him as their father figure with their maternal uncle away for more than six months in a year, on the merchant ship that he worked in. He had mistaken her for Vivek’s sister as her back was turned to the flimsy curtain that hung on the doorway. She was busy, preparing the meagre meal in the square that served as the kitchen... when he called out.

“Sureka, when did you come?”
She had turned, startled by the sudden voice, almost dropping the ladle. Vivek had come out running of the small room on the right that served as the bedroom.
“Who is she, haven’t seen her before?” Constable Vel asked curiously.
“A distant relative, her parents are in the village, she wanted to see one of the film shooting here.”
“A runaway or did her parents really give her permission?”
“They were tired of her constant pestering and sent her hoping her curiosity will be satisfied.” He tried to sound convincing, lying not really his forte.
While Vivek kept silent throughout the meal. Vel subtly asked her questions on her life, which she tried to answer based on her annual vacation to her ancestral village.

As she recollected that fateful day, instead of fear, she felt relieved on seeing the two grim faced men she had known for as long as she could remember. She would have shuddered in their presence in normal circumstances. She felt a pang of guilt and remorse at the sad face that lagged behind. But the 16 year old have enough of the adventure ....she wanted to go home....”Would they take her back or not?” she wondered pensively. Her Uncle was the one to approach her, her father having stayed back with Vel.....terse words uttered with a curt glance in her direction "Gather your belongings and come down in 10 minutes!" She looked around the room, nothing much to pack except her old school bag and uniform. The clothes that she wore had been bought by him. Quickly putting together everything, she ran down the steps three at a time....halted momentarily at the first landing when she saw Vivek’s forlorn gaze.

He worked it the bookstore near her school to fund his college education and had found her crying outside the shop one day. She had lost the money given to buy a new notebook and had been afraid of being scolded by the teacher and her father alike. He had taken pity on her, having seen her pass by almost every day for the past two years. He bought her a book out of his account, which she accepted gratefully. She promised to pay back when she had enough pocket money saved. A few casual conversations turned into a tentative friendship. She stopped by the shop every now and then as there were very few customers at that particular time, the owner turning up only in the mornings. Her two best friends waited patiently, often teasing her on the journey back home.

She started lying to family members, telling them she was out visiting friends when she met him secretly in the nearby unused building that no one visited. He would talk about his dreams for himself and his sister, about their idyllic life when his parents, small landowners in the nearby village were still alive. They had died in bus accident while returning from a wedding. He had been 12 and had to mature overnight. She spoke of her family, the restrictions, her lack of interest in studies, her skill at painting which was largely overlooked as a frivolous pastime. He encouraged her to continue painting on seeing a few watercolours, introduced her to a whole new world of modern music and books while she admired his quiet intelligence and his endurance. Time flew by when they were together as they discussed their dreams and aspirations

She had often felt isolated; a lonely, eldest child. He had befriended her, made her feel wanted, worthy. But she realised it was not enough....running away had been a necessity then....yet another failed test result meant beatings and punishment. He had been there then, bringing her to his home, sheltering her from her father’s caning. She would never forget his kindness... But she had to go...make him understand.

“We belong to two different worlds, it is best we don’t leave it this way and part as friends.
When he protested vehemently, “Don’t try to contact me, it will only hurt more.” she said, choosing a white lie.
She didn't love him; she had been in love with the idea. She realised it had been more for him but chose to ignore the hurt and pain he was sure to feel at her abrupt abandonment.

Back to where her heart belonged she was in a state of bliss. But the momentary happiness evaporated when she felt a chill in the air that hadn't been there before...no one said anything to her, her mother and aunt glad to see her alive and safe. But she felt eyes behind her back, hushed whispers of neighbours and relatives...School was a place out of bounds, her father had spoken to her just that once to convey his negative reply at her pleading, The one refuge she could escape the stifling restrictions of home to, was forever lost to her.

She wondered why she was reminiscing now, after decades of blissful forgetfulness.....married off to the first alliance possible the very next year, once the scandal was deemed to have become old news...life had never gotten easy for the recently turned the grandmother of three...she had paid for that youthful mistake in more ways than countable, her husband iron handed behaviour proof that he had an essential knowledge of her infamous escapade...and yet had been content with the little joys that surprised her now and then, her two sons and a daughter who made live worth living.

The name in the magazine she was browsing through had triggered the journey into the past. A past that had been locked safe for long in the hearts of elders, her younger cousin who had never judged her, rather commiserated, his and her own...his name, she had once deemed as melodious as his voice was all that she thought she remembered of him. Yet the picture of the professor who had been awarded the community prize for his contribution to the education of women had to be his. She was glad that life had been kinder to him, a first in many years, noting sadly that it made no mention of any family other than his sister’s. She gently, absentmindedly retraced his face on the paper while the garlanded portrait of her husband watched on from the wall behind. She quickly put away the magazine into the bedside drawer as the voice of her elder son returning from his trip pulled her back to the present, the mask back in place.

 word count 1550