I went to bed with a heavy heart. Then I thought about Arjun. There was something about him that soothed my aching heart.
The way he smiles.
The way he holds his right shoulder ala Mohan Lal style
His don’t care come what may, dare devil attitude.
I realized we had so much in common.
We both loved bike rides and I was beginning to enjoy speeding. (Anyway I will die one day. so why worry if it is going to be today or tomorrow).
We skipped most of the boring lectures.
I was about to think that we even loved same food and then I realized not really. I loved Marwari food, but he didn’t like Malayalee food. For him, his mother’s Spinach khadi was much more tastier than my mother’s moru curry!
Would I be able to cope living with a Marwari boy?
I didn’t give any chance for the skepticism to take roots.
What nonsense? How dare do I doubt when I finally had someone to love me?
Spinach Khadi was certainly better than plain old moru curry. Spinach is good for health. Rich source of folic acid, Iron and vitamin K! I convinced myself.
I closed my eyes and I could see Arjun’s lips.
I opened my eyes quickly.
This wasn’t working.
I needed to sleep.
But the woman in me, the one with wants was wide awake.
Dreaming of being held, being kissed, being wanted…
I almost felt like hitting Arjun’s head with a hammer. He had to turn my world upside down.
I smiled thinking about chasing him around the campus with a hammer.
Almost like how Amma used to chase me around the school threatening to hit me if I didn’t go back to my class.
I wondered why I didn’t want to go to school?
Was it because I couldn’t hear the teacher and there by didn’t understand what she was saying? Or was it because I couldn’t see what was written on the black board?
I felt it would be the latter because my deafness was probably because of adenoiditis that I had when I was 6 or 7.
‘no, it was because your mother had mumps’ sensible one spoke
I didn’t know.
All it took was one simple surgery. If my parents had followed the Doctor’s advice to get tonsillectomy done for me, I may not have lost my hearing.
They were afraid that I may not wake up after the surgery because someone else’s child had complications after tonsillectomy.
when I have my own children, I will not let them suffer like this. I promised myself.
Then I thought ‘Children’!
Malayalee Marwari children!
I got up, switched on the light and took the book from my bag and started to read.
Boring book was better than an over active brain.
I woke up hearing amma cursing
“Nintey thantha electricity bill pay cheyyuvo? (Is your father going to pay the electricity bill?”
I opened my eyes and looked at her.
“Why didn’t you switch off the light?” Amma screamed
I was in no mood to fight, so I closed my eyes and pulled my blanket on top of my head. besides I was guilty of the crime she was accusing me of. I had slept off without turing off the light.
Amma pulled the blanket away from my face
“I am talking to you”
I refused to open my eyes and look at her.
“ninney okkey valarthunna enney venam thallan( I should be whacked for raising incompetent kids like you)”
I contemplated getting up and giving her a whack on her head. After all that is what she was asking for, wasn’t she?
I could hear Amma taking out her anger on the pots and pans in the kitchen. Little while later I heard her footsteps going to the bed room. I opened my eyes slowly to see what Amma was up to.
She came out of the room holding the iron and I closed my eyes quickly.
“Move your feet” She ordered
I opened my eyes to see what was going on.
Amma used the socket near my bed and plugged the iron. Then she went back to her room and came out with her silk saree and blouse. The saree George bought for her from Mysore.
I thought of asking her
Aren’t you ashamed to wear that saree while being married to my father?
But I knew she would ask in turn ask me ‘Were you not ashamed when you wore this saree for your Pre-degree farewell party’.
Amma looked at me as though she knew what I was thinking.
“Hold the edge” She was holding the pallu out for me to hold.
I didn’t want to.
But I knew it wasn’t easy to iron a saree without an ironing board.
I got up and held the edge of the saree for her while she ironed the inside.
I hoped the iron would over heat and burn the saree.
I knew I was wrong to think like that.
I knew Appa never bought nice sarees for Amma.
But I was tired of not knowing what is right and wrong.