The Spirit of Being "Me"

An overcast sky, the sun hiding behind the clouds... practically playing hide and seek. Looks like it will rain down again, she thought silently and made an effort to get back home before that happened. Sitting at the same clearing on the mountain cliff, she was able to predict the rains from the patterns of the clouds and the angles of the rays passing through them. The frequency of her visits to the place had made her a part of the place where the birds waited for her, looked out for her whenever she was late.

This spot, this lap of Nature was the only thing that offered her comfort, peace, a reason to smile, a reason to sob with joy... It was a pretty little spot that was surrounded by trees, very welcoming with birds all around her waiting for her to give them their regular feed. Inspite of the soil being infertile, she had toiled hard and had been able to cultivate it to yield fruit with her regular and hard work.

The lightning struck and there were loud claps of thunder followed by a surreptitious fall of raindrops hitting her body as she went running down looking for shelter. There was so much of a difference then, she felt. She thought of the days she used to come up here with her father... He would hold her hand and help her tread the muddy path along the mountain when it rained. They would wait at each step, while she would look at the thirsty plants and grass come alive. She would jump up in joy every time she would see a butterfly on a flower that had been resurrected by the shower. Her father would watch her from a distance asking her to be careful. Every time, she grazed her knee, he would scold her and kiss her knee to make her smile again. He would keep replying to her incessant string of questions trying to satisfy her insatiable mind. She would keep hopping and skipping from puddle to puddle ahead of her father, yet at the same time making sure he was always in sight.

Like always, their moods would be lifted with the chirping of the cuckoos as it welcomed the rains, the way of gods to bless them..., the drizzle as it signified the laziness of the day..., the torrential rains as it meant the gods were smiling at them, the harvest would be golden and would yield a good crop..., the rainbows as it meant that life would be as colourful as the rainbow...

Each monsoon came and went seeing her transition from the little girl who did'nt have a care in the world to the responsible, pretty young woman looking after her old father and her fields as it was the crop that gave them bread and butter for an entire year. The innocence of the childhood was lost to these practical concerns. The rains simply came and went without her even as much as watching it... Yes, she waited for the rains only to water her crop but the charm was lost as she was out of her little world, into the real, big, bad world...

The daughter-father duo were aware that there would be a time when she would leave that place for good, just like other girls... But, they didn't know it would be so soon!! The wealthy merchant of their village had asked for her hand for his son. Her father was only too glad for her as she would always be well-fed, comfortable and happy and would never have to depend on the rains for food... The fear of living and taking care of the fields without her was a fear that secretly lurked in his mind, tormenting him but his daughter's happiness mattered more than his discomfort... And, anyway. she was not leaving him for good, she would be right down the next alley in the palatial building of the merchant.

The day came when she tearfully said goodbye, feeling a part of her was left behind with baba, wondering if she would be as happy as she was here... even if it meant in staying in the enormous, palatial villa she had envied as a child... Surely, no villas, no clothes, no jewellery could equate with the joy of being with baba, asking him unnecessary, irrelevant questions, walking those mountains in the rains, the steaming hot tea, the mud caked home she stayed in... She only prayed silently to God to take care of her baba after she had gone and uska kya tha, kahin bhi khush rah legi...

Getting married was like being reborn in a different set of circumstances, different backgrounds, different people, different cultures, she realised. Her mother-in-law was the mother she never had... She had never used amma before and her eyes welled up when she uttered the word. The merchant's wife was like the mother she had never been with. The merchant was although quite far from baba, loud, pan-chewing, brash, aggressive tones were what he was like unlike baba. A good human being though, very helpful, thoughtful, kind but also quite shrewd when it came to money.. But that's how you get rich, she wondered silently. Her husband was very understanding probably because he loved her more than she loved him..., very sensitive to her needs, fears, worries as he fully acknowledged the fact that she had left behind her home, her baba to be with him and he realised it was his duty to make her happy and never regret the decision taken for her..., took good care of her as she was the girl she had loved right since they were kids... his first memory of her was that of a drenched fairy with her wings clipped, waiting to fly, to soar in the open sky from that mountain cliff holding the hand of her baba... He had wanted that hand to be his hand from those days and now that he had it, he would take care of that fairy who made his life worth living...

Time flew by till she was used to all the comforts of her new home. She made sure she would visit baba every week to clean up his home. She realised bitterly that it wasn't her home anymore but she was happy, very happy in her home too. Her mother-in-law was like a mother, her father-in-law was always encouraging her to supervise the field workers. He was not too appreciative of her working in the fields as it defied their status. So, she did miss doing that but man ko samjha liya tha.. ab koi baat nahin. She had even appointed one of her workers to look after her baba's field too, Of course, she missed the smell of the earth in her hands, her clother without a single mud stain, the feel of the raw earth in her hands but she was happy with her life with Aryan.. He was an absolutely loving, devoted husband and strived to keep her happy at all times. Her baba was content that his little angel was happy in her world.. Yes, he felt his existence futile as he missed being the centre of Shikha's world, rather, he missed being Shikha's world. Aryan was, without doubt, an able son-in-law and a good husband, he still could figure out things from the sparkle of his angel's eyes. The weekly visit was not enough to make up for her absence, he did not have to toil at the fields any more... The purpose of life was lost, he kept thinking till one summer night, he passed away...

She found out the next morning when she was on her weekly visit to baba's place. The tears kept streaming for quite sometime after his funeral. The memories kept coming back as she was all he had had and he was all she had ever had back then.. Of course, things had changed in the last two years after marrying Aryan. He had become her universe, just like baba had been, but that was the way of life for daughters..

Time flew on, and she was blessed with twin boys.. The family was overjoyed and the treats went on and on until the boys were atleast a year old.. The boys grew up in the same village and she would take them to the mountain cliffs where baba would take her to feel the rains cleansing their souls. Aryan would come whenever he was not travelling. Since the business had expanded since their marriage, it demanded a lot more time and attention and for Aryan, business came first.. The justification was he was working hard for her, so that he could provide her with whatever she wanted...

She missed the Aryan she had married few years back but, in essence he was the same and then some relationships change form after time... Her father-in-law had expired soon after the expiry of amma, he could not survive the shock that she left for heavenly abode leaving him alone without as much as a warning... It was after the kids' fifth birthday that amma had a gold chain made for both of them and adorned it around their necks and immediately after went to her room for a short nap, which never ended... Aryan and the kids were very upset and so was she... In her effort to soothe Aryan and the kids, she would put up a brave face and pretended to have forgotten about her own grief... After all, amma was her mother, had always been her mother...

Her father-in-law was in deep shock and was not able to fathom the fact that she really did not exist anymore... After all, amma did not have any ailments. The fact that he had never as much as gift her a saree kept haunting him, the fact that he had never told her that he cared for her, the fact that he loved her, he would have wanted to thank her for raising Aryan like she had, he would have wanted to do things differently than he had done, he would have loved to relive his life with her again.. These things kept going round and round in his head until he breathed his last in his sleep on one humid day, just months after amma had expired.

Aryan was inconsolable and so were the kids. He had lost his guide and the kids, their partner-in-crime. Anyways life moved on after the funeral. Aryan had to devote more and more time to business as his father also wasn't around to help him with the affairs.. The kids had to go the city to study and Aryan and Shikha were left all by themselves. He started cutting down on business due to his ill-health. Besides, they were blessed with wealth and prosperity, intelligent, obedient children and did not have anything to ask for from God.

One rainy day, as Aryan was sipping his tea, the cup flew out of his hands as he clutched the left side of his chest.. There was a roaring pain in his chest and before she could come back with the doctor, he was no more... She was sobbing loudly grieving her loss, the red and green bangles coming down on the floor as she kept hitting her hand on the floor. The funeral rites changed her life forever. The red sarees were replaced by white ones, the jewellery had gone back into the jewellery box, the nose ring had come off... The kids insisted she also come with them to Mumbai but she wanted to be here with all her memories, she wanted to be with the trees she knew, the people she knew.. The village had given her everything, her childhood, her youth, marriage, amma, motherhood and at this stage, she did not want to relocate elsewhere to be starting afresh...

And now that she was all alone, it felt like she was revisiting her childhood with the raindrops falling on her face, drenching her yet again like she used to be... Everything around her had changed but not the rains... They were as welcoming as ever and took her in her arms without judging, without demanding explanations, without asking why she had not come to soak herself in the downpour, accepting her just as she was... sweet, gentle, pretty although the features had become firmer with time, understanding but there was a difference now she wasn't related to anyone in her village... WIth the kids gone and baba and Aryan no mopre, it was she, herself and that was all that mattered... Atleast now, she would start living for herself, be herself and know the difference in the spirit of being "me" from "our"!!!