One quiet afternoon

"Bowled!” shouted the boy, raising his finger above his head and running to grab the bat from his brother. “Darn!” exclaimed the brother, looking at the fallen stumps behind him. He threw the bat to the ground and marched to pick the ball. “I’ll score a century now”, claimed the brother whose turn it was to bat. “You’ll get out at the next ball”, said the bowler throwing the ball to the batsman. Whack! “Four”, yelled the batsman as his brother ran to fetch the ball. “Keep your voice down or you’ll wake up mother”, chided the brother. On hot, dusty summers like this, the ladies in the colony usually enjoyed a quiet afternoon siesta. A truck drew up and parked near the gate of the house opposite to theirs. Four men jumped out, pushed the gate open and pulled out a key. Opening the door, they walked into the Sharma’s house. “Oh, the Sharmas are shifting too?” wondered the younger boy as they watched two of the men lifting the sofa out of the house and into the truck. People in the colony were constantly shifting when the menfolk got transferred. “Maybe”, replied the brother, “I heard Mrs. Sharma tell mother that they were going to Dehradun for their summer vacation. Father will know where they are moving to.” One of the men hopped onto the back of the truck and pushed the sofa into the recesses. He shouted out some instructions to his mate who went back into the house. The other two men walked to the truck carrying the dining table, while the third man came out again with a chair in each hand. “I’ll work in a bank too”, said the younger boy, watching the men work as a team, “then I’ll get to see new places every time I’m transferred.” “Come, let’s continue the game”, said the brother. The boys continued playing cricket while the men dumped the furniture and appliances in the truck. An hour passed by. The boys took a break and sat on the bench near the gate of their house. “Hey”, called out one of the men, “can I get some water to drink?” The younger boy nodded his head and went into the house. He brought a jug of water and a glass and handed it to the man. The man gulped down the water and wiped his brow. He passed the water around to the other men who joined him. All the furniture had been loaded onto the truck. “Can I get a matchbox?” asked another man sticking a beedi between his teeth. The other boy ran in and brought a matchbox. “Where are you transporting this?” asked the older boy. “Jaipur”, replied the man, lighting up. “Let’s go in”, said the boy to his younger brother glancing at the empty living room of the Sharmas through the bare window. They walked into their house clutching the water jug, glass and matchbox. Mother was still asleep. The boys began a game of snake and ladders and all the goings-on of the noon were forgotten.
Three days later, the Sharma family arrived from their holiday to find that their house had been completely robbed of every single thing they owned, the only witnesses to the incident being the boys next door aged six and four.

Awakening

She could sense movement around her, as she was slowly gained consciousness. She stirred, though outwardly she did not move an inch. She could now hear sounds…. or voices. They were talking softly among themselves… her mother, aunts… she could hear each of their distinctive tones. She wanted to call out to them…. but her voice barely reached her own ears. She did not panic, it was the effect of the anesthesia. She felt someone sit gently beside her. Instinctively she knew it was her husband. She could feel his breath on her face, as he gently moved away the hair from her forehead. I'm here, he whispered softly. She smiled or tried to, but didn't feel her lips move. She wanted to tell him she could hear him, she felt alright and was ready to go home from the hospital. But her lips did not move and she spoke those words in her head only. She deliriously willed her eyes to open, her fingers to move but her body lay obdurate in its stillness. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed when again she felt his hand rest softly on her forehead. A silent reassurance that he was with her. A simple gesture that spoke a million words. Her heart was at peace now. She drifted into a slumber.

The Karvachauth story

Her: She wakes up when the alarm goes off at 4 am, although she has slept only past midnight. With a smile on her face, she proceeds to prepare her sargi, a ghee dolloped paratha, a cup of fenia, cashewnuts, pistachios and a bottle of water. She opens the fridge, takes the dough and milk out. As she scuttles around the kitchen making her enriching sargi, she thinks fondly of her day ahead… the fast, dressing up in bright reds and maroons, the pooja, the sighting of the moon, having her first morsel of the day with her husband thereafter… she silently hugs herself with this warming thought…She turns on the stove, places a skillet to warm and cooks the fenia, as she rolls out her paratha and generously applies ghee on it. She turns the paratha out on the skillet to cook reminiscing about her earlier karvachauths - similar yet special in their own way. She hears the sound of her husband coming into the kitchen. She turns to greet him. “Happy Karvachauth, dear!” They say hugging the other warmly. “Now go back to bed,” she admonishes him gently, “you have a long day at work!” “ Hmmm”, he mumbles, eyes half closed and sleepily turns around, walks into the bedroom goes back to sleep. She gathers her plate, walks into the living room, sits down and devours her sargi. Done, she puts her plate in the sink and decides to go back to bed – she’s so sleepy! Stifling a yawn, she turns in, to find her husband fast asleep.


Him: He is disturbed when the alarm rings at 4 am………hasn’t he only just slept, he wonders. Returning late from his EMBA classes, a heavy dinner, a long day at work - he hasn’t slept well in a week. He hears his wife getting out of bed. He pulls the blanket closer and manages to sleep. He can hear sounds in his head – is he hallucinating? She has forgotten to shut the bedroom door. A tad awake yet half asleep, he can feel the light turned on in the kitchen, the bathroom door closing, the fridge being opened, the stove turned on, the clanging of various vessels…. She’s preparing her sargi he thinks, grinning mentally. He is unable to sleep properly. He bundles out of bed and walks towards the kitchen with heavy steps. She hears him come. They fondly hug each other with a smile, “Happy Karvachauth dear”. “Now go back to bed, you have a long day at work!” she admonishes him in her usual way. He smiles inwardly, nods in agreement to her and turns around. Staggering and sleepy-headed he goes back to bed. The noises from the kitchen continue but slowly fade in his head. He falls asleep.

Same story but two sides….. Felt it was a nice way to describe our first phase of Karvachauth. Happy Karvachauth to you! :)