She stroked the dying fire in a park. Wisps of white ashes mingled with her white hair. The conflagration was over, wiped out by the ashes of time. But embers of sorrow still burned. Red hot reminders of the past. Kindled by a reminiscent wind. That opened healed scars anew. Cast out by her own son.
Malti had been mute witness to the slow takeover of things. First to go was her respect. Then authority. The son she had nurtured from childhood got married.
It is said – ‘A daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life but a son is a son till he gets a wife.’ This came true in her case. Her daughter married and moved to Dubai. While her son and his wife moved in with her.
Things were allright at first, or so it seemed. Then began the chidings and finding fault with every little thing she did.
“Ma, your cooking is too spicy for Rita. She doesn’t
like the cart seller you buy vegetables from and your old shop groceries. She prefers to buy them from the supermarket. Let her handle the kitchen & house.”
She meekly handed over the keys. They lived in a small 2-bedroom house that the old lady had inherited in old Delhi. Things started getting unpleasant when Rita got pregnant.
“I want my Mother to come and live with us to look after the baby.” Rita decreed.
Since there were just 2 rooms they decided to build Malti a small room and toilet near the gate. She was distressed to be away from the main house but agreed.
After the baby boy was born she hoped things would get better. After 2 months the Mother-in-Law left and they decided to keep a maid since they were a working couple.
“There is no other room available so Ma your quarters will have to be given to the servant girl.”
“Where will I go beta Ranjit? Can’t I be with the baby in my old room you have made the nursery?”
Ranjit was livid, “Ma! we are thinking about the baby and all you can think is about yourself. You are too old to look after the child so Rita’s Mother will keep coming to supervise and she will need the nursery room to stay. I suggest we check you into an old people’s home for a few months. Why don’t you go on a yatra or something?”
“My knees don’t function anymore I can’t walk properly. How can I go on a yatra or to an ashram?”
The next day Rita created a scene,
“It’s either her or me, decide Ranjit, if she doesn’t go I will take the baby and go to my Mother’s house and not come back to you ever.”
Ranjit bundled up Malti’s meager belongings in a suitcase and left her at an ashram. But after a few weeks she missed her family so she came back. Ranjit was not at home She picked up the baby and he vomited a little on her shoulder.
“What have you fed him? Why is he…”
“I havent fed him anything he just burped, its normal”
Rita flew into a rage and starting beating Malti up. Ranjit came home and saw her bruises,
“What happened Ma, why are you here?”
“She must have fallen down the stairs in the ashram and hurt herself, the clumsy woman, please drop her back.” Rita explained, looking at Malti with threatening eyes.
Malti was too shocked and depressed to speak and went mute from then onwards. She would not utter a word to anyone even at the ashram. But she missed her home. Most of all she missed her grandson. So one day she just picked up her suitcase and walked out. She went and hid herself in the park opposite the house. In the evening the Maid came out with a pram for a walk with her grandson and Malti watched in delight.
Just to have a glance of her grandson at his morning and evening walks she began living in the
park and eating one frugal meal a day at a nearby dhabba. The owner allowed her to spend the night on the charpoys kept out for truckers.
A lawyer used to come for his daily walk to the park. He witnessed this scene and got curious to see an old lady watching a child from the bushes everyday.
He went upto her,
“Pranaam Maaji, you look to be from a good family. Why then are you living like this?”
Malti refused to speak. The lawyer did his homework and after inquiring with the neighbors, got the whole story out.
“Maaji, the house is your ancestral property. Your son has no right to turn you out. Just one testimony from your side in court can get you back your house. Allow me to file a case for you.” But Malti still did not speak.
One day the maid was sick and Rita brought the child out for a walk in the stroller a little earlier than usual. Malti was caught off guard, sitting in the
open feeding grains to birds. She tried to scurry into the bushes. But Rita ran behind her, grabbed her hair, and slapped her hard.
“You want to get the sympathy of neighbors that we treat you badly, that’s why you are living like a beggar here. I hear someone has been spying on us. If I see you here ever again I will beat the hell out of you, do you understand old woman? Now go back to the ashram.”
Malti sat on the ground weeping bitterly and disheveled. The lawyer found her like that. He offered his hand. She took it and nodded.
The next day in Court all went silent as finally, the mute witness spoke.
Trending Now
