Pinku-Enchanted Life

Not a fortnight passed when Sunaina realized that the smell of money travels a long distance. Her husband who had been missing for months returned home one evening. It was clear that he knew of Sujata’s visit and the fact that she had left money and provisions with his wife. Sunaina and the children both cringed inwardly on seeing him. They knew drunken brawls and the beatings would now be the norm. Sunaina thought hard of what to do with the money that Sujata had left behind, she had no doubts that it was for this money that her husband had returned home and once he could lay his hands on the same he would disappear again. The children quickly hid their new clothes; experience taught them to hide everything from their father. The youngest one was the only one unafraid largely because also inexperienced. She crawled to him and sat close looking up at him wonderingly. It wasn’t often she saw a new face in the house. She was rewarded with a pat on the head and then her father walked

The return journey went in a daze. Sujata was happy to have been able to help her friend and also a little apprehensive about lying about the dream. The fact that she had to use her daughter and God as an excuse goaded her. For the umpteenth time she consoled herself that the Lord after all knew that she had used his name only for a good cause. Before she knew, the familiar arrogant gates of the bungalow were there before her. they opened almost automatically, the guards having spotted her car at a distance and she was engulfed once again in the beautiful, lifeless existence she called life. Amit came home a little early; he gave himself a few reasons for this unusual behavior. He felt he wasn’t feeling well but couldn’t locate what exactly was the problem. Then he rationalized it by thinking he needed to pack for his trip the next day, which wasn’t true since he never packed, the servants did the needful supervised by Sujata. 'Ah Sujata! She would be home by now'. This

Sujata stared at Sunaina, she had pictured her in many ways but the reality brought a lump to her throat. Sunaina’s once beautiful hair now had streaks of grey and it had lost its sheen. Her hands and feet were calloused from working constantly in the fields and then at home. Even her saree had a tear which she had tried best to hide, and this was her best saree. The children had said so to Sujata. Sunaina was sleeping peacefully, they had gossiped till late after Sujata said that she was not hungry. Sunaina had secretly sighed in relief which had not escaped her friend. Their chat had revolved around the various acquaintances of their childhood. Every time Sujata had tried to bring the discussion back to Sunaina, she had been met with a silent wall and a quick changing of topic. She knew her friend was in trouble but how was one to help without knowing what exactly the ailment was. She got up stealthily and went into the kitchen; walking on tiptoes she checked the near empty rice

Sunaina looked out at the pouring rain and felt the elation she had felt for the past two days draining away. No one would be able to travel in this torrent she thought, not even Sujata with her rock strong will. Two days ago when the telegram had arrived saying that Sujata was coming down to meet her she had not believed her eyes. Though they had been planning this visit over their letters for the past three months it seemed unbelievable that it would actually happen. Once it sank in, she had got into a frenzy trying to make her small home look its best. She had taken down all curtains and linen to the river for a rigorous wash. The kitchen had been cleaned and the soot which had collected over years was scrubbed away in a matter of hours. The children had looked on bewildered as their mother who normally cursed under her breathe while she went about the daily grind was actually heard humming an old hindi film song. Now all that seemed a waste, since the rain looked like it wou

The rain fell incessantly; mercilessly…it threatened to wash away everything with it. Nothing but nothing would stand in its way as the torrents that poured from the skies rushed on their way to meet the river and then on to the sea. The stranded car rocked slightly from time to time as it tried to keep its hold on the fast receding ground. The driver once again came to her window to urge her to go back but seeing her determined face went back to his place under the bonnet. She almost didn’t notice him though a part of her brain did register the movement. She was lost in thought. She remembered her mother’s wet smiling face as they had run from the fields to the house hand in hand, hurrying to collect the drying papads, pickles and other assorted masalas spread out in the courtyard before the rains spoiled them. That funnily was the only memory she had of that fateful night that swept away her parents and her childish innocence with it. She had heard her grandmother’s version

Dear Sunaina, Am hoping this note finds you in good health and spirits and not too surprised at seeing a letter from me who must have passed into the realms of mere memories. I am sorry I had to disappear without notice and didn’t have the time to even inform you about my plans before leaving. But even as time has flown like water under a bridge I have never forgotten you and at every turn in my life I have mentally checked back as to how you would have viewed my decisions and actions. Since childhood you have been my conscience keeper and it was a pain to keep my plans to myself before I left home and then not to touchbase with you once I had gone away, knowing that your concern for my well being will make you share my details with my family. They would have lost no time in dragging me back to that quagmire which I had escaped. Its been so many years and I can finally be in touch again. There is so much to tell you and so much to ask after. Your son whom I had seen last as a toddler m

The rain fell incessantly, mercilessly, without joy the way it falls in a place that has been inundated with more rains than it could handle for a week at a time. Sujata looked out on it with unseeing eyes. There was a time when the rains had never failed to fill her with awe and delight whatever her circumstances, it uplifted her thoughts, dreams and hopes to a higher realm. Now it just brought on a resigned sigh and an overwhelming desire to cry. Her fingers went on with the knitting in her hand as her mind wandered and the multi hued scarf she was making wove on almost like on autopilot. Her hands had started shaking some years ago and she had taken up knitting with a vengeance it hid the fact of the shivering hands and also gave her some satisfaction to be able to create something in her otherwise barren life. She saw the sentry running out under the torrent to open the gates and they creaked open reluctantly. She always found it funny-sad that the same gates looked like tho