odicha lekkillenkil moothamma-kkirunnottey!
I knew the saying so well. Amma always said that to me each time I got angry with my sisters and took it out on Amma. Now it was Arjun, who had to endure my crankiness.
I wanted to apologize, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Arjun wore the helmet and started the bike. I sat right behind him. I was sure he was going to speed, so I held on to my seat for support.
Just as he turned in to the main road I remembered I hadn’t taken my sweater. It was still lying on my bed. I thought of asking Arjun to turn back. But somehow the bubble of silence that hung between us was soothing to my soul and I didn’t want to change it.
I was feeling cold and I noticed Arjun wasn’t riding as fast as I thought he would. I lifted my hands and tried to hug myself to keep me warm. My arms were touching Arjun’s back and I tried to lean back so I won’t touch him. He was wearing a jeans jacket and I wished he would be like all my heroes in Mills & Boon novels, and notice how cold I was and would offer his jacket to me.

‘Cinema style life’

That was my mother’s biggest contention with her husband. My father lived in a dreamy world where the wife waits for her husband with a smile and cup of tea and my mother lived in a practical world where sometimes one runs out of milk and sugar to make the tea and frown replaces the smile and expected her husband to understand that life isn’t a movie.

Where was I heading? I wondered. Was I too dreaming of a ‘cinema style life’? I didn’t know the answer.
Arjun stopped the bike in front of the college main entrance and I got off.
“Thanks” I mumbled and started to walk.
“Wait” Arjun spoke
I turned around to see him digging through his back pack and he pulled out two bottles
“here” He held the bottles in his hand and I noticed one had green chilly pickle and I wasn’t sure what was in the other container.
He probably noticed me staring at the container in his hand and spoke
“Ma made Shrikhand and pickles for you”
There are no words left to describe the humiliation I felt at that moment. I chewed his brain first thing in the morning and now his mother had send goodies for me, even when my own mother hasn’t bothered to do so.
I took the bottles from his hand and tried to look at his eyes to apologize. He didn’t make any eye contact. He just mumbled ‘bye’ and zoomed off.
I stood there motionless with an enormous feeling of hatred for my own mother.
I hated Amma because she never had the time or money to make anything for me to take back to the hostel. She could make fish curry for Sally, but nothing for me. I was never worth the trouble for her.
odichal lekkillenkil….
I wasn’t trying to assign the blame of my own horrible behaviour to others.
‘Yeah right’ Sensible one spoke.
“But Amma could have made something for me, Arjun’s mother did, why not my own mother?” I asked the sensible one
‘She didn’t have money Nina and you knew that’ She spoke
‘Yeah, she never had money when it comes to me and shut up I don’t want to hear you justifying my mother’s action”
I walked quickly back to the hostel and opened my room door. The room smelled musty. I noticed Shylaja’s bags on the bed. Aparna’s bed was empty. She mustn’t have come back yet. Although she wasn’t in my group, I was still relieved to see that even she missed the morning rounds.
I opened the windows to get rid of the musty smell. Took my clothes out of the bag and put them back in my cupboard. I noticed the Archies plastic bag that held all the birthday and Christmas cards I had received the last 2 years. I took the plastic bag and went and sat on my bed.
I took out the two pencil drawings Arjun had drawn for me. He had asked me what I wanted as a gift for my birthday and I had asked for his paintings. I had seen all his paintings at his home. I loved his paintings. He didn’t have any paint at the hostel and instead made two pencil drawings for me, with a promise that he would paint something for me later.
I looked at the picture of women carrying water jars on their head and walking in a row. Those women in the picture represented something that was totally alien to me. We never had drought in Kerala, I never saw women going to the distance to carry water back home. I looked at the faces of women.
Only then I noticed,They didn’t have a face. Their faces were covered with their duppatta.
I wanted to scream.
I didn’t want to be a woman without a face.
I could never be a woman without a face.
I rummaged through the cards. I wanted to find something from Beautiful Eyes. I wanted something to hold on to. I remembered soon enough that I had nothing from beautiful Eyes. I had asked him to keep all the cards we gave each other because I didn’t want Maria to find them.
Bitter tears started to fall down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to stop. Like the candle that burns to its own end and disappears, I hoped my tears would finish me off. Because there was no other escape for me.