High-Low
No one was surprised when Pishi died the same day as
Suma.
It was a rainy
July afternoon when Suma breathed her last in her big wooden four poster bed,
surrounded by her twenty odd
pillows. She had been brought back from
the hospital one day back. The doctors wanted to put her on ventilator, but Kaku
was adamant to bring her back home. When Dadai, Suma’s husband had died, he was
kept in the ventilator for 4 days.
“Look at his eyes Babu ! He wants to go home !” Suma had wept and pleaded. But the doctors
did not budge. During the Shraddha
ceremony of Dadai, Suma wore a milky white sari with a thin green border. As usual, I sat beside her holding her hands
and Buro sat on the other side. I was
all of 11 years old then. But still I could sense the calm determination in her
voice when she told her son, Kaku - she clled him Babu, about her last wish.
“Babu, promise
me that come what may, you will bring me home before I breathe my last. I want
to die on my own bed”. Pishi, sitting on
a low stool beside Suma , nodded and wiped her eyes. She stroked Suma’s feet to console her.
Suma, Kaku,
Kakima were more than mere neighbours.Till
quite some time , I knew Suma to be Buro’s
as well as my grandmother . Ma, Baba and
I were closer to them than our relatives. For me, it was like my second
home. I had open access to the house, on
Suma’s bed, Kaku and Kakima’s things and
of course everything that belonged to Buro.
When in class 6th , I almost failed in mathametics, I went
and hid myself in Suma’s bed, between her pillows. Suma was very possessive
about her pillows. Everyday she and Pishi fluffed and dusted the pillows and
kept them on top of the wooden trunk kept near Suma’s bed. When any guests came
to their house, Suma would pick and choose a pillow and offer it to them and
again when they were gone, the pillow would be kept in place.
Suma did not let anyone touch her pillows.
Not even Buro. I was the only exception.
“You are my Laxmi ! “ Suma would
look at me adoringly before plucking my plump cheeks.
Everybody called
her Pishi.
In Bangla Pishi means your father’s sister. Only Suma called her by her name – Bani. Suma was married to Dadai when she was 15 years old. Pishi, the daughter of the gardener in Suma’s maternal home, was of the same age as Suma. Two months before Suma got married, Pishi was married to a farmer in the neighboring village. One idle summer afternoon, when Suma was dozing and I had sauntered into Pishi’s room to ask about Buro’s whereabouts, she was busy rummaging her rusted tin suitcase where she kept her possessions.
In Bangla Pishi means your father’s sister. Only Suma called her by her name – Bani. Suma was married to Dadai when she was 15 years old. Pishi, the daughter of the gardener in Suma’s maternal home, was of the same age as Suma. Two months before Suma got married, Pishi was married to a farmer in the neighboring village. One idle summer afternoon, when Suma was dozing and I had sauntered into Pishi’s room to ask about Buro’s whereabouts, she was busy rummaging her rusted tin suitcase where she kept her possessions.
“Tumpi, come ,
come … see this “ she was giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Tell me … who
is this ? “ She held a yellowing black and white photograph in her hands. I
tried to snatch it from her which she deftly avoided and pulled me close to her
and both of us peered into the photograph. There was a bride and beside her
there were three girls in sari and one man with a hat on his head. Pishi pointed her finger on the girl standing
beside the man and asked me again “Tumpi … can you recognize her ? “ . When I nodded my head side by side , she then
pointed at the bride . “Ok . This one you will be able to tell …” and she
looked at me expectantly.
“Pishi, I don’t
know !” I was impatient. I had to find that brat Buro. He had hidden my favourite guti – the black flat stone – my lucky
charm for ekhat dukkhat (hopscotch).
“This is your
Suma … and … this is me .. and this … “ she giggled .. “is my khasham … my husband”…
“You have a
husband ? “ I stared at her in awe. Somehow I could never imagine Pishi having
a husband !
“Baniiiii …!” Suma called. Pishi hurriedly put the photograph inside the
trunk and said “Ashi….” and hastened out to check on Suma.
When I was old enough to understand, I learnt
that within a year of her marriage, Pishi was thrown out of her in-law’s place
with the accusation that she was a baanjh
and would not be able to bear children. She had come back to her father’s
place and after six months she was sent to Calcutta to look after Suma , who
was expecting her first child. And she
has been with her ever since.
It was Kaku who
had first called her Pishi and then she became Pishi for everybody. And it was Buro who named Suma. Like Kaku, he started calling his grandmother as ” Ma “, when
he was corrected by Kakima.
“Buro, I am your
Ma and this is your beautiful Ma… Sundor
Ma “. “Sundor Ma was a bit too complicated for Buro and he called her Suma
. And I too called her Suma. Just
like Buro.
Buro’s place and
my house is separated by a boundary wall.
There is a window in my parent’s bedroom which is right opposite to the
window of Suma’s room. Since childhood, Buro
and I would stand on the respective window sills , holding the vertical iron
rods of the window and spend hours
talking to each other. Sometimes I would stand on the sill and call “Buro … Buro … “ ! He would come running and
take his position and on other occasions he would call “Tumpi … Tumpi … “ and I would leave whatever I was doing and
run towards the window sill.
“Ahh Tumpi … go
to his place and talk or call him here ! What is this ? Standing like this and
talking!” Ma would scold. But who cared ! It was only when we outgrew the size of the
window that we stopped standing on the window sill. Later I found it embarrassing when Ma asked
me why I did not talk to Buro through the window. By that time, both of us preferred to
chat either on the terrace or in his small study room.
Suma could not
do without Pishi.
Theirs was a
strange love hate relationship. Suma was
fair, plump and soft, with long strands
of grey hair. Her face was round and she
her wide toothless smile lit up her deep
intelligent eyes. She wore gold rimmed
glasses and though wrinkled, her smooth
skin was an envy for Kakima and Ma.
During summer, she just wrapped her sari around herself and did not wear
a blouse. I would cosy up to her and
touch her soft , sagging breasts and
tickle her. She looked at me lovingly
and smiled . “Dushtu meye !” (naughty girl !).
Pishi was dark
and thin. She was about 2 inches shorter than Suma. She walked with an awkward gait with a frown
on her longish face. Her hands were
rough and uneven. All her frontal teeth were gone and she just had one or two
molars left in her mouth. When she talked,
a peculiar breezy sound emanated from the space in her mouth. She had thin strands of grey hair. Every
evening at 3.30 pm, after finishing the kitchen chores and giving crushed Paan (betel leaves) to Suma, she
would go to the terrace, spread out her
legs infront of her and comb her hair. She
would close her eyes and mutter to herself and go on combing her hair. Then she would tie a small knot and look at
herself in the small hand mirror. During
the winter holidays , when Buro and I played badminton on the terrace
, we would quietly go behind Pishi and quickly
untie the knot and run away. Pishi shrieked and come running after us and Buro
and I hid ourselves. Several times she complained to Suma .
“They are kids
Bani !! Let it be … !”
I don’t know the
reason but Suma had a strange fetish.
She would never let Pishi be at the same level as hers. If Suma sat on a chair, Pishi sat on the floor
near her. When Suma sat on her bed,
Pishi sat on a small stool , a little lower than the bed. After Dadai’s death, Suma asked Pishi to shift in her room. Pishis’s bed was moved into Suma’s room
. When Suma saw that the bed was of the
same height as her four poster bed, she
asked Kaku to call Hari, the carpenter.
Hari was instructed to cut the legs of Pishi’s bed so that it was lower
than Suma’s bed. During occasions like
Durga Puja or visits to relatives places, Suma would call for a rickshaw. She
sat on the seat and Pishi invariably sat near her feet, holding the seat of the
rickshaw puller tightly. Kaku did not
like it.
“Ma ! There is
enough space beside you and Pishi can sit there !”
“Babu, we are
comfortable this way . Do not worry ! Richsha walla
… chalo !” and Suma would ride away with a queer smile on her face.
Sometime it
really went to the extreme.
It was
showing Ramayana in the nearby movie hall and Suma wanted to watch the movie.
Kaku got the tickets. Ma and I were also invited for the show. There were 10 of
us, including Pishi. There were eight tickets in row M and two tickets in row N
– the row in front of M. Buro, I and ran
and took the two seats in N. But when Suma saw that Pishi was also sitting in
the same row as hers, she created a scene.
“Bani will sit
behind me.”
Kaku tried to
make her understand that the seat on M was better but Suma would not listen to
him. Finally, Suma and I sat together and watched the movie. Buro sat next to Pishi behind us. Buro was so furious that he bit Pishi during the
interval and got a good thrashing from Kakima.
After the show,
Buro was still livid.
“Ma… Pishi did
not let the see the movie in peace. When Ram and Ravana were fighting each
other, she kept on asking me Buro ,
Buro, who will win ? Will Ravana defeat Ram ? Tell me Buro ! She knows the
Ramayana by heart but still she asks me this !!! I am telling you , I will never ever go to a
movie with Pishi ! “
For Pishi, Suma
was the role model.
She tried to talk like
Suma, imitating her expressions, pronunciations and gestures. She wore her sari just like Suma , with all
her hand-me-downs. After Dadai died,
Suma started wearing white sarees and gave up eating fish , meat and eggs, Pishi too did the same. As the years passed,
Suma and Pishi looked like sisters – one beautiful and the other one ugly. They were always seen together. They chatted . They quarreled. They listened to the same
radio programmes. They ate the same
food. They sat together. They slept in
the same room. Suma could not do without
Pishi and was very fond of her but Suma saw to it that Pishi was always a
“level” lower than her !
And Pishi, always looked for opportunities to be at the
same level as Suma ! One day, when Suma
had gone for her bath , Buro and I crawled below Suma’s bed where jars of mango
and lime pickle were kept. It was one of
our favourite haunts where we sat there and ate pickles from the jars. Pishi came , looked here and there and sat on
Suma’s chair. She closed her eyes and put on Suma’s specs and smiled to
herself. Buro
and I came out and suddenly stood before Pishi and shouted “Pishi !!”
She was startled
and the glasses fell on the floor and broke.
Her face was pale. She got up from the chair swiftly and started stammering .. “I … I …”. Buro pranced around her singing “I will tell
Suma.. I will tell her that you were sitting on the chair and wearing her
glasses …will tell her … tell her …”. I will
never be able to forget the petrified look on Pishi’s face.
As Buro and I came into our teens , our pranks became less and conversations
became more. We would talk about our
friends in high school , how one boy proposed to me and Buro would laugh and give me an odd glance as if he did not care which somehow infuriated me. When Buro described about one of his class mate
who was very beautiful and how she
always wanted to sit beside Buro and be with him, I would make a face and say “Ok
! Then you go and talk to her, I am leaving … !” Buro would laugh and obstruct
my path and make faces at me and then say “Tumpi !!! I was just teasing you … let
me hold your hand … !” and extend his
palm towards me. We started liking each
others’ touch . We would now make
excuses to go to the terrace where we could sit closer and hold hands and occasionally
kiss each other.
One sultry afternoon, when both of us sneaked on
the terrace and were sitting closely on the other side of the water tank, where
no one could see us, we saw Pishi. She had come up to collect Suma’s zari sari which
she had put there for sun drying. She
then looked around her and tied the
sari. She loosened her hair knot and fluffed her hair on both sides of the
middle parting, just like Suma. And then
she started walking around the terrace, imitating Suma’s gait. We sat rock still, holding our breath, so
that Pishi does not see us together at this odd hour. But we all know Murphy’s law . Anything that
can go wrong , will go wrong , Pishi meandered in front of us and stood stock
still looking at us. All of us did not
utter a word for a few seconds. That
terrified, petrified look again surfaced on Pishi’s face. But this time we too
were sort of guilty.
Buro , suddenly came to his senses and started
staring and smiling at Pishi .
“Wha..ha ..t ?” She stammered.
“Well , we
did not see you and neither did you see
us, right Pishi ?”
It took a while
for her to comprehend the meaning. So
mean of Buro. Terrifying Pishi. Poor thing. But it worked. Pishi did not utter a word and went away.
Somehow , I
always felt bad for Pishi. Suma was all
she had and that too Suma always had the “upper” hand. Pishi had only one nephew who kept in touch
with her and visited once in a while . He worked in a Jute mill near Howrah and
whenever he visited Pishi, he got a pot of rasgullas for her, which she proudly
showed and shared the sweets with all of us.
Ma and Kakima
too talked about Suma’s “high-handedness”.
“I really don’t
know why Ma behaves like that with Pishi” , Kakima once complained to my
mother. “What harm will it do if both of them sit on the same seat in the
rickshaw? Pishi looks so awkward sitting on the footrest of the rickshaw and I
really feel ashamed … all these meanness … and see … that day when Pishi had
fever, Ma was so upset that she started crying … I don’t understand these acts
at all ! “.
The day Suma was
diagnosed with pneumonia, it was raining
very heavily.
When she was taken
to the hospital, Pishi started wailing. “Didi … Didi … “ she cried . Suma’s condition deteriorated. The next day Suma’s lungs were infected and
she was put on life support system.
Pishi did not leave Suma’s side. She was almost forced by the doctors to
leave the ICU. The next day Pishi contacted
high fever. Kaku was busy with Suma , so
Baba brought Pishi to our house and gave her medicines. Later that night, when
her temperature reached 105 degrees, Pishi was admitted in the same hospital. The next day, when the doctors wanted to put
Suma on the ventilator, Kaku refused to do so and brought Suma home and made
her lie down on her four poster bed , surrounded by her twenty odd
pillows.
That July afternoon, when all of us were standing near her bed,
weeping, sobbing, Suma opened her eyes. There was a blank look in her glance.
She looked at our faces as if searching for someone … Kaku held her hands. Buro and I sat near her
feet, stroking her, Ma consoled Kakima … Suma opened her mouth to say something
but words did not flow … and after a few minutes she was gone for ever!
An hour later,
Kaku got a call from the hospital that Pishi has breathed her last a few
minutes ago. Kaku asked Buro to inform
her nephew and made arrangements to bring Pishi home.
Kaku’s younger
brother , Ajay Kaku , who lived in Delhi
was informed about Suma’s death. The
cremation could only happen when Ajay Kaku reached Calcutta the next morning. Suma was decorated with flowers . Kakima and Ma wrapped a white sari around
her. They put chandan on her forehead.
Through misty eyes, I looked at her. Suma was looking so beautiful and serene !
Ma and Kakima also decorated Pishi and
wrapped her with one of her saris. Suma
was lying on the bed and Pishi on the floor below her .
When the hearse
came, Suma was put inside the glass box with Rajanigandha flowers all over her.
The scent of the incense sticks filled up the hearse . She was taken to the
Peace Haven mortuary where the body would be preserved till the next day. I had
insisted to be with Suma till the mortuary. I felt strange when I saw Suma’s
body put in the refrigerator box . Suma … I will never be able to see you again
… Buro held me tightly … my eyes were dry … tears did not flow from my eyes …
an inexplicable feeling shot through my body … the temporariness of our
existence !
When the hearse
carrying Suma had departed , Pishi’s nephew called up. He said that due to the heavy rains, the train lines of
Howrah station were submerged and all the local trains were halted. He would only be able to come the next day, so
could we please keep Pishi in the mortuary till that time ? So , Pishi was also taken to the Peace Haven mortuary.
But when Pishi’s
body reached Peace Haven , there was a problem.
The only other refrigerator box which was free
had been suddenly taken up by the Christian trustees as the mother of the
Bishop of St. John’s Church had a heart attack and died.
“So, what do we
do ? “ Kaku was distraught. “Are there any other mortuary nearby ? “
Buro and Baba
tried to contact the other mortuary, but there too it was the same condition.
The torrential rain had brought the city to a stand still.
“Well , as of
now , I think there can be only one solution “ , the manager of the mortuary
said.
“What ?”
“The
refrigerator where your mother has been put , is one of the original ones from
the British era. The length and height of the box is almost double the size of
the newer boxes … “
“So ? “
“Well, we can
put the other body in the same box … if you permit .. “
Kaku looked at
Baba. He nodded.
“Okay … “ Kaku
whispered.
It was almost 11 pm and he was tired – both mentally and physically.
Buro placed a chair for Kaku to sit . Kaku
slumped on it.
As all of us
stood there, Pishi’s body was carefully lifted on the stretcher and put inside
the refrigerator box…. on top of Suma …..
Both of them
rested there waiting to be cremated .
Just that during
this wait time, Pishi was at
a “higher” position than Suma .
***
30
November, 2017, Belvedere, Alipore
