Turning Point

The cycle was again creaking too loudly, Sawant Singh cursed under his breath and got off it. It wouldn’t do to disturb Shikha, his daughter in law’s siesta otherwise his supper of two rotis and a little dal would again be the casualty. Already this week he had gone without food twice, once for forgetting to buy salt at the local market and then again for having fallen off to sleep after an unusually hard day. So he picked up the bicycle and moved with it slowly to the far wall of the garage.

For the umpteenth time he cursed his deceased wife for his ill fortune. Had she not hurried to meet the other Lord and deemed it fit to stay on and serve her earthly master he would not have to face such indignity in this old age. To him it was almost an insult that Lajjo who had never retired for the night without pressing his tired limbs should decide to call it a day while he was still alive and in need of a million small ministrations.

He wasn’t as cowed down always, there was a time when not just the immediate family but neighbors treated him with respect and came to him for help and advice. His wife who was only seen not heard tirelessly worked towards keeping the house tidy and a savory meal on the table and inspite of his not too great income Sawant Singh’s household radiated happiness and contentment. ‘Ghar ki laxmi’ his wife was truly that, never did she crib about the many guests invited and uninvited who came to the house at all hours, was ever ready to serve them with a cup of steaming hot tea, snacks and a smile.

Lajjo had never paid the pain that shot through her left breast and seemed to engulf her whole being for minutes at a time, any attention. Nor did she deem it fit to disturb him with her own discomfiture. Even when the end was close and she had a raging fever, she continued to say she didn’t need to go to a doctor and would be fine in a day or two. Finally when she was delirious and unable to resist were they able to take her to the hospital. Tests revealed that the cancer, which had begun in her breast, had gained control over all her vital organs on its undeterred path across her body. The doctors advised them to take her back home since there was little that could be done for her, the disease was beyond medical help all one could do was pray that she be taken away by the angels of death swiftly and with minimum pain.

Shikha had stepped in at that point insisting that the hospital admit her and does whatever was necessary to minimize her discomfort. And though Sawant too had wanted to take Lajjo back home she had convinced him otherwise. As a precaution against any further discussions on the subject she had gone back home collected a few of Lajjo’s clothes and prayer book and brought it back to the hospital. Sawant had been glad to give over the reins to her, he had never thought it necessary to bother about Lajjo and this sudden event had left him befuddled.

Sawant had been aghast on seeing Lajjo lying pale on the hospital bed. She didn’t look like the wife he knew and he couldn’t bring himself to believe that Lajjo could be lying in a hospital bed and not making the umpteenth achaar or papad at home. He visited the hospital seldom like one would visit an ill neighbor and would escape after sitting by the foot of the bed for fifteen minutes in an uncomfortable silence. He had never deemed it proper to make conversation with his wife and now that she wasn’t making dinner or asking permission to go to the gurdwara or the local market he didn’t know what to talk to her about.

Lajjo saw his discomfiture through the haze of pain that she lived in and asked him to leave reminding him of errands he needed to do. Probably that was also why she did not fight the disease and let it quickly take its toll of her body and died one night without speaking to anyone. The maid discovered her body in the morning and called to inform him.

That was the turning point in his life.

He stood stupefied by the idea not knowing what to do; finally he called for Shikha who had taken over complete reins of the family. She came into the sitting room wiping her hands on her salwar kameez and stood looking at him. It took him a while to frame the words and then too he couldn’t get himself to utter them. The event they had been praying for had taken place and now he was too weak to accept it. Shikha understood at once and with a nod of her head went off to alert her husband. Together they went to the hospital and were told about a thousand formalities that needed to be done before the body would be handed over to them.

He stood around not knowing what to do while his son signed papers. That was when he saw a stretcher under the stairs, a patient on it with the face completely covered. Not knowing why he went over to take a closer look and spotted the left hand peeping out of the sheet. The mole between the middle and ring finger seemed oddly familiar and with a jolt he realized that it was Lajjo, discarded under the stairs. He snatched away the shroud and found her wasted body in the hospital gown; she looked unnaturally empty as if something more than life had gone off her. Then he realized that not a single piece of the jewellery that he had gifted her over the years and had insisted she wear all the time was on her body. He had never seen her so bare, rage blinded him he called out to his son and Shikha to come and see what the rogues at the hospital had done, stripped Lajjo naked.

He had hoped for some emotion from them but in an irritated voice Shikha explained that she had arranged for a maid to stay with Lajjo and as a precaution against any temptation she took off all Lajjo’s jewellery leaving pieces of twig in place of her diamond nose pin and earrings. That was when Sawant Singh had broken down and wept. In the forty-three years that they had spent together he had never seen Lajjo like this. She had come to his house as a young sixteen year old decked in bridal finery and jewellery that was enough to weigh down a cow how that frail, wisp of a woman bore the weight was a miracle. But then over the years she had shown that she was capable of bearing worse weights than that of gold.

At the time of the partition they had lost all their land and most of their belongings and with only Lajjo’s jewellery, which she had miraculously saved by hiding it in her husband’s, and son’s turban crossed into the new India. Her jewellery had sustained them and by selling off part of it Sawant Singh had been able to open the automobile repair shop that had over the years grown into a service station that apart from the family provided livelihood to about twenty employees.

Sawant Singh got to know how little his contribution to the family was and how irksome the visits of his friends were only after Lajjo passed away. Once the last rites were complete people came in from near and far to show their sympathy for the remembered the cup of hot tea smilingly served at the most odd hours of day or night. Shikha quickly showed her reluctance to serve the guests or greet them and asked the servant to do the necessary formalities. After a couple of days it seemed that the servant too couldn’t be spared from the household chores and for the first time in his life Sawant Singh got up to get his guest a glass of water.

It took him sometime to register the change in attitude that had come over his son and daughter-in-law. The courtesy they had extended him slowly waned as did the concern for his health so much so that there came a time that his son told him that he ate too much for his age and should cut down on it. Sawant Singh had been grieved beyond words, his pride had stopped him from partaking a meal for the next two days until hunger gnawed at his insides and swallowing his pride he asked the servant to bring him a little something. But not once did his son or Shikha come to ask why he was missing his meals.

The parties they threw grew wilder and the guests looked at him in a manner that clearly said that he was an eyesore. Finally when he could not bear it any longer, he moved into the outhouse kept for the servants and his meals were brought to him by the servant at predetermined hours and were he to miss them he must wait till the next mealtime for had he gone to the kitchen he would be told that there was no food to be had.

He was barred from meeting his grandchildren too, he wasn’t a good influence on them and taught them old-fashioned ideas was the excuse. The children who had been fond of him and had fought amongst themselves for the chance to sit on his lap did not heed the warning and were severely beaten up when Shikha found out that they had been meeting their grandfather.

Slowly with time he realized that his son and Shikha had only been waiting for Lajjo’s death since the house in her name and as per her will that it would go to her son on her death. Sawant Singh inorder to stay away and not tempt the children into coming to meet him now moved around the neighborhood on a bicycle borrowed from the servant and visited other well-meaning people like him who had loved their children believing they would be the crutches of their old age.

When he saw the couple in the park in raptures over the first steps of their toddler he shook his head at their foolishness.