Monday 16 May 2016

Fruits, Love and Surplus

“What does a kept woman mean?”
My mother was taken back. She didn’t expect that question from a six year old. I instantaneously knew I must’ve asked something which I was not supposed to. I have my ways around it. I smiled cheekily.
“Where did you hear that one, my pearl?” My mother tried to lighten the moment. At least she was not escaping it. “Why was that word spoken? What was the auspicious occasion of context?” I could feel the tangy sarcasm.
“Grandma told that your friend Nagaveni is a kept woman. She is a man eater. She hunts married men down.” To be honest I liked Nagaveni. She was a school teacher. She always was impeccably dressed and attired. There was an aura of class and style about her. She was not my mother’s close friend as such. But they did chat a lot. I doubt whether they discussed any of their personal matters.
It was the town gossip that Nagaveni was seeing Panduranga, her colleague and much married man.
“Does she look like a hunter to you? Does she have claws and canine teeth? Where is her arrow and bow?” My mother had a smile in her face when she fired those questions.
“Why are you asking me this? I am only relaying what grandma had said. You don’t have to be all that bitter?” I retorted.
My mother burst in to a loud laughter. She was still pouring the decoction off the filter as she spoke. “Are you enjoying your papaya, young man?” She had that twinkle in her eyes. I loved it when she had that twinkle. It meant that she was about to say something very deep. Something which didn’t make any sense then. But I was told I shall understand the true meaning of it when I grow up.
“I am loving it. It is lovely. Sweet and ripe.” I was biting in to the fruit holding it in my both hands.
“Why do you deserve that fruit? It was not grown in your garden. You didn’t buy it from the grocers. You just got it given by aunt Padma.”
“Yes. Aunt Padma likes sharing things. She had surplus growth of fruits this season. She always gives them away. Papayas, Jackfruits and even coconuts.”
“Exactly. Why is it different when it comes to the fruits of love? Panduranga has surplus love. His wife Mangala could not cope with it all. So he had to give it away to Nagaveni.” My mom was pouring the coffee in to the silverware. She lifted her eyes up to look at me and gauge my reaction.
I kept staring at her not been able to make any sense of it all. Looking at my blank confused face my mother just burst in to another laughter.
“You will understand it all my pearl. You will when time is right.” She dismissed the topic there.
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“That’s your avocado salad, Su” Carey was all smiley that morning.
“Thanks Carey. I have a friend coming up in a minute. She is a friend from work. Can I have my cake when she gets here please?”
“Sure you can.” Carey disappeared in to the kitchen.
As I was enjoying my avocado salad I saw Naomi barging in to the café. I waved at her and she walked towards my table.
“You look radiant Nu… What have you done to yourself luvvie? Is that Australian offer again?” I asked her as she was settling down. Noami was contemplating a bg move to Autralia.
She ordered her coffee and cake. “I am in love Su. I wanted to tell you this myself in person.”
I kept staring at her and then smiled. “Brilliant…. See I told you it will happen. Tell me all about it.”
“Promise me you won’t judge me. You know the guy I am seeing. It’s been going on for almost two months now. Only now we have decided to come out clean with it.”
“Nu…. Why am I getting this feeling? Who is it?” That feeling of something not right. I got it intuitively.
“Peter….” Naomi blurted it out.
“Peter? Maggie’s Peter? For heaven’s sake Nu… they are married.” I was in shock when I said those words.
“I know. He is not happy with Maggie. We happened to be out and about before Christmas. Maggie was working. Peter and I were drunk and we ended up together at my place…. I know it was wrong. But I always had feelings for this guy. Then he told me that he was not happy with Maggie and they were together only for the children’s sake.”
“But Nu… Maggie was your best friend. They have children together.” I felt as if I sounded like my grandma…. I could hear my mind shouting ‘kept woman’ and ‘man eater’.
But I was not my grandmother. I want to be like my mother. May be Peter has surplus love which has to be shared.
“Peter is going to tell Maggie about it. Trust me Su… I love this man. I have never been happier in my life then in last two months. I have decided not to take that offer in Australia after all.”
“What if he is playing Nu? Men are pigs. I know. I am a man and I know my men. I am not getting nice feeling about all this Nu. I am happy that you got to feel love. I am sure it is amazing feeling. But under the circumstances it comes with a big price to pay.”
“I know Su.. I know…. I remember you were involved with Steve when he was still with Andy.”
“Yes… and I paid for it. Didn’t I? Steve left me for Martin. Men like that are pigs. We are emotional fools. Doormat Syndrome!”
“But Peter is not like that Su.” Naomi was very confident about her love.
“Whatever Nu…. I want you to be happy.” We departed after the cake. That left me shaken. Naomi gently did point out that I was a ‘kept man’ myself once.

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“Did you hear what happened Amma…. Panduranga has left Mangala. He is living with Nagaveni now.” I remember that sunny evening when I had come from my bicycle ride. Vishnu my friend who was the neighbours of Panduranga and Mangala had told me the news. I tried to explain him about surplus fruit theory but failed miserably.
“Hmmm….. Does it make any difference to you?” My mother was clearly didn’t want to talk further.
“But I thought it was about sharing. Why couldn’t both Mangala and Nagaveni share the love? Vishnu says Mangala is going to her father’s village with the baby. The baby is only three months old. Grandma was right Nagaveni after all is a man eater.”
“Little pearl…. Somethings in life are complicated… You will never understand it now. I think we need to do something about you watching those stupid dramatic films with your grandma. You are becoming one judgemental idiot. You will perceive these things better when you have lived your life.”
“Whatever….” I was not interested in that affair anymore.
I heard Mangala moved with the baby to her father’s village. After a short period even Panduranga who was a school teacher took transfer to Bangalore city and Nagaveni joined him. They faded in to my distant memory.

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It was not before three months I heard from Naomi. I tried to avoid both Naomi and Maggie. Escapist coward like me was avoiding the situation of taking sides. I didn’t know whose side I was supposed to take. That is the problem faced by the mutual friends in the situations like this. I know morally I should be taking Maggie’s side. But I myself had been in Naomi’s situation before. I didn’t have any moral grounds.
I met Naomi at my regular haunt The Avacado Café that Sunday afternoon. Her text read that she wants to meet me before she moved to Australia. It said that it will be helpful if she could see me before she left. I sort of felt guilty myself not keeping in touch for three months. Then she had her life complicated and she had to sort it herself.

As she walked in I could not believe what I was seeing. She was shadow of her former self. She had lost lot of weight and not in a good way. She looked exhausted and very miserable. She looked depressed.
“You alright Nu? Sorry I was not been able to keep in touch… It was just that…” I was trying to explain her when she cut me off..
“It’s okay Su… I understand….” She continued as she had tears in her eyes which she was trying hard to hide. ”You were right Su….. I am the other woman after all.”
The she explained how the affair ended. Peter came out clean to Maggie about the affair. There were hard quarrels and words exchanged. Once initially anger settled down, Maggie somehow convinced Peter to stay in their marriage for the sake of children. That always hits the bull’s eye. No wonder women go to the extent of getting pregnant to keep their men.
“You know what Su… after all this I feel Peter is a pig. He made me feel like a whore. I was a kept woman after all. Damn… Thankfully I still had the job offer from Australia. I just put my house in the market. My mother will look after the sale procedures. If not for their support I would have been a broken woman.”
She was leaving for Australia in couple of weeks’ time.  I hugged her, wished her all the luck. Poor lady…she needed that. I could feel her pain as she walked away from the café. I hoped she was walking towards better life.
I could not stop but dialling my mother immediately. I needed answers. I think I have grown enough and have seen enough life to seek answers about Nagaveni.
“Amma… You remember Nagaveni, the teacher who eloped with Panduranga…. What happened to them?”
My mother had hard time remembering it after good thirty five years. But she eventually did after some prompting.
“Little Pearl….. After Mangala died of cancer, Nagaveni and Panduranga took in Mangala’s five year old son. Nagaveni never had children of her own. She looked after the son very well. I doubt whether he even remembers his mother that well. He refers Nagaveni as his own mother. Panduranga is no more. He died five years ago. Nagaveni is enjoying her retirement looking after their grandchildren. Everything ended well.”

I was left speechless. Life has strange ways of unfolding things….

I just hoped Naomi too had a happy ending like Nagaveni. 

Friday 22 April 2016

Sweetness and Soul

Where did it all started…
Circa…. My childhood
Remember that rainy June afternoon. Me sitting with my mother on the veranda of our house in India. I always loved my time with my mother. Being a very good conversationalist, my mother made these rendezvous very interesting, informative, inspiring and intellectual.
“Do you see that lady there..   The one with that floral umbrella. Look at her walk. I am sure she is diabetic.” She would say….
“What is diabetes?” I asked her innocently. I was fascinated by the word and how it felt pronouncing it.
“It’s an illness where the sugar levels in the body goes high.”
“But didn’t you say that sweetness in life is always good and we have to be sweet to people.”
“Yes I did. But that’s only in the matters of soul not the body.” My mom had all the answers.
“Sweetness in the body is bad but the sweetness in the soul is good.” I was intrigued.
My mother took another sip of her freshly brewed coffee from her silverware and kissed me on my forehead…. “Someday you will realise what I mean….. Someday you will…”
“But what if that lady has diabetes…. Is she going to die?”
“No silly… She won’t. She has lot of things to do. Her son is about to get married. She has all the preparations to do for the ceremony. Her daughter recently had a baby. She is running around preparing for her grandson’s naming ceremony. Her life is full of rituals and functions. Her husband is useless and he won’t help. He is always sitting in the town square plaza with his friends smoking in his retired life. She looked after her family all her life and the tiredness is manifested. All that sweetness her soul gave has come out as her illness. That’s why elders always said have a balance of sweetness, sourness and bitterness in life.” My mother was going on. I was all mesmerised by my mother’s understanding and intuition.
“You are talking about the food.Right?” After all I was my mother’s son.
“Both sweet pearl…. The food for the body and the food for the soul.”
I love people watching with my mother…. She had answers for everything both in mortal and spiritual world……

“That’s your Americano with extra shot Su.”  Carey handed me the big mug of coffee.
“Thanks Carey…. Kind of you” I sipped my coffee and could feel the energy trickle down the throat. Coffee at Carey’s Avacado Café has now become an addiction. I come to the café to sit and write. One bright spot in an otherwise dull town.
Carey runs this café with her brother Jamie. Popular among the local clientele and tourists alike, one can be assured of meeting interesting people here. Some old ladies with their knitting kits, Some scruffy builders from Marina in their soiled boots, Some long distance walkers and some canine lovers. Then there was me people watching absorbing everything and guessing the story behind them.

“No cake today Su?” Trish from the corner table gently shouted at me. Trish is a friend from café. She is a spiritualist and Life coach who lives around the area and works from café. She proof reads my writings, listens to my gibberish thoughts and motivates me to think more gibberishly.
“No Trish. I have to watch what I am eating. Risk of diabetes…..” I smiled. I know what diabetes is now and pronouncing it is not as tingly as it used to be.
“Moderation darling, moderation.” Carey was keen to sell her cakes to me. Carey had recently started baking her own cakes. She was always extra keen on me to try them. I always gave her my honest opinion. Her cakes are good but I never told her that.
“Who baked them? Your mom or yourself?” I asked Carey. She had her rivalry with her mother over the baking.
“Today is mine. It’s your favourite Lemon Drizzle.” Carey winked at me as she rested her elbow on cash table.
Little Devil of Sweetness…. She always lures me in to the sin of sweet gluttony.
“Go on then…. Only one piece” I do easily give in.
At this rate I will be that lady with diabetes my mother spotted……
As I took the first bite of the cake, I noticed this frail contoured old lady trying to open the door of the café juggling with her walking stick and a bag.
Carey jumped towards the door to open it for her and helped her to settle down. She took her orders and disappeared behind the cash counter in to the kitchen.
That lady fascinated me. She reminded me of the lady from my childhood. That limp in her walk and that frailty of the exhaustion of life. Diabetic sure she is but has she got that story behind her. I am sure she has some story. Let me watch her and guess her story.
She is a spinster nurse. She was a nurse in the army during Second World War. She met love of her life, an injured soldier in one of the wards. He was speaking very little then. She nursed him and fell in love with him. Then they realised he was German and belonged to the enemy army. He was taken in as a prisoner. The lady remained spinster since still carrying the torch. As or the soldier nobody knows what happened to him.
“I guess your imagination is running wild Su.” Trish pointed out.
“A little bit.” I winked back.
Unconditional love which was never meant to be…  Oh wow!!! I could not take my eyes off her.  In her late eighties now, I am sure that lady was a head turner in her days. Curiosity killed the cat…. I could not resist but get her to tell me her story. I wanted to find all about her unrequited love. I doubt whether she will ever tell me though.
“You seem to be restless young man.”  The lady asked me. “What is the matter?”
“I guess you are a nurse. I thought there is that feel of healer around you.” There I was trying to act smart.
She burst in to laughter. I could see the wrinkles on her face stretching the freckles in her face. She had certain authoritative grace about her. I could see that she dressed impeccably with floral scarf and home knit cardigan.
“Oh dear…. No my love. I was a housewife. My grandchildren are all grown up now. Finally I have enough time on my own to get to café and drink my coffee at peace when I am not surviving on my diabetic tablets.” And there it was I could see her eyes twinkle. I know that twinkle. I have seen it before.
Yes…. That was the twinkle I did see in that woman my mother spotted years ago.
Life had come full circle for me…… Sort of.