“A simple ‘Yes’ leads to something you never saw coming.”
Yes, the "Yes" that slipped out of grandma's mouth and not from her mind or heart made her experience some of the most horrific moments of her life that she could ever have imagined! Nightmarish they were when this old lady in her early 80s came to realize that something had gone wrong. She vaguely recalled saying “Yes” to someone, but she wasn’t sure of to whom or for what. But she had said it! With a mind that was preoccupied, the indistinct feeling over something quite insignificant made her feel unduly worried and uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if she had been a bit absent-minded, which had led to her carelessness! Something was disturbing her thoughts that evening, but she hadn’t tried to probe further into what that unclear hint of caution was about.
She continued sitting where she was!
Grandma had two name tags. GG for “Groovy Grandma” and GM for “General Manager”. These twin nicknames were christened by her granddaughter Manthra. Whenever a welcome piece of eatable was given, a free time agreed upon, a game of her choice was allowed, or anything else to Manthra’s taste granted, grandma became “Groovy Grandma” or “GG” in short.
But when it was “Wake up and get ready for school; eat this and leave nothing on your plate; come back before it becomes dark after play; avoid going with those girls”, the “yak blaa, blaa, blaaas” of the old lady made her the “General Manager” or “GM”.
“GG never ever keeps me hungry or thirsty. She gives me enough place on the cot to sleep on and space enough for me to squeeze into in her cosy kitchen. Many are my warm feelings I cherish of my GG. She’s a great storyteller, though a firm counsellor. She loves cooking my favourites and enjoys watching me eat every bit till the last morsel. There can never be a lovelier human being than my GG. And…”
The praises went on and on and continued being the never-ending fabulous tales Manthra usually told her tolerant friends. Though some pretended to listen, yet hardly ever heard, they kept nodding heads of agreement, not really knowing for what. Stories about GG were endless, and her friends slowly started to turn deaf ears to her without making it obvious. On her journey to and from school would start, “Oh the barfi she would keep ready this evening would be yummy! The samosas she kept hot and ready yesterday were too good! Oh, GG, it feels ‘wow’!”
Whilst Manthra, 13, entering grade nine, shared those lovely moments about GG at home, her friends spoke of “Henry, Roopak, or Jayanth”. It was invariably about boys or the new dresses and cosmetics they would be wearing during the evening hour of cycling or playing. To Manthra, what they jabbered was Greek and Latin. She had not much interest in these silly things.
She was recognised as a “pretty, modest, soft-spoken girl, and very well behaved; respects elders and teachers; has a lot of concern for her friends too; unbelievably too mature in all her deeds; and well brought up for a girl from such a humble background. Lucky parents to have such a child, quite so different from the children of the present day”, was the study done on her by her teachers, schoolmates, and people in the neighbourhood.
But least of all did many know that she had lost her parents in an accident and her only guardian was her dear “guardian angel” GG! Proud she was of this 80-year-old young lady, who knew all of what she desired. She took more than the due care expected of a grandmother so old and all alone. But her upbringing seemed as though this woman had earned a doctorate in psychology. Not once has she said “no” when she had to say “Yes”, and never has she said a “Yes” when a “no” was required. To grandma, “a spade was a spade”, and she never minced with words that caused confusion. This made things very clear for Manthra. She knew what she should or shouldn’t do. She knew what to expect of others and to what extent her lending hand should go.
The slim girl of medium height had the smooth, fair complexion of her mother and the jet-black, wiry hair of her father. Her thick, long locks fell down and reached her hips rather gracefully. Grandma neatly braided those thick strands and let them hang on either side of her shoulders, and to school GM ensured she tied them with red ribbons, as instructed by the school, as part of the school uniform. Both the lovely features inherited from her parents gave Manthra’s strikingly beautiful face an added charm and attraction. She knew how to carry her head that held the attractive face with dignity. Those dark grape-like pupils swimming in the huge, white watery pool were bordered by thick eyelashes that curled outwards. Her eyebrows seemed as if they were made with a definite deliberation to pour more beauty into those large pair of innocent, yet tricky eyes below.
Innocent, that she really was, found her trusting the goodness of people and preferred not reading more into anybody’s negatives. Tricky her eyes were because she got people falling prey to those alluring ones. But her intentions were undoubtedly innocent and harmless, which she so openly expressed through her charming smile. Her slightly upturned, rather sharp nose often smelt danger. But her heart usually thought otherwise. Neither her large eyes nor her heart could see the evil in many.
Yet, when she felt a sense of discomfort when somebody’s looks appeared unpleasant and ugly, she threw back uglier looks of disdain and displeasure. With subtlety and curt replies, she would keep these dirty people at bay. GG had taught her well. “Talk to boys and men, but learn to measure and judge them correctly!” were her words of wisdom to Manthra, who ardently followed it like all other sensible advice given by GG.
Evening had come, and with the sun slowly sinking, “Groovy Grandma” began to sink on her cot as well. She was now retiring for “her” time of the day. After a whole, long day of cooking, cleaning, washing, along with a big, willingly assigned portion for her granddaughter’s routine needs, she started to get some time off for herself. And so, she now readied herself. It was her TV time!
She had been sitting for quite a while, engrossed in the serial, watching a volley of hooligans kidnapping a girl child of ten. Logically thinking, they didn’t need more than a single person to carry a little child, but the big crowd there seemed too many just to carry one little girl. And this made grandma’s companion Boomah, who was also watching it, very annoyed.
This ever-prompt critic of serials, Boomah, came in every evening to watch them with GG. After her day as a “cook” was done at the huge mansion out there, she would come to sit with GG. What cooking she must be doing and providing the inmates was grandma’s ever-prevailing doubt! The “menu” Boomah so proudly announced she had cooked invariably seemed the same every day!
The “generous lady” now sitting next to GG used to bring the leftovers of food she cooked for that rich young kid living out there more than often, simply because she had “cooked too much without really knowing how it happened!” And that was almost every day. Her house was past the big mansion she worked in, down the lane, and she would habitually carry that “small-big” parcel of “unknowingly cooked extra eatables” to her place to feed her family for “only” that day, instead of “wasting food!”
GM chided Boomah and never entertained such behaviour, since she was a lady of true dignity, who held her self-esteem higher than her life. But she liked Boomah for reasons not known and permitted her evening visits with eagerness.
“The little master out there is a gem of a boy, unlike his sick mother, who forever complains and grumbles”. That seemed obvious from what little GG saw of that smart, handsome boy with an ever-friendly smile, concluded GG. His activities and the occasional visit of his mother spoke much more of his background. He was often seen with his friends, and occasionally she would see him peeking out of his window up there on the second floor, throwing a cool smile at her, waving at her little grandbaby too. She liked what little she saw of him. But what surprised her was how he accepted Boomah as his cook! Grandma believed that boy must be quite tolerant, or maybe his taste buds had almost died, to continue eating her food, since he could definitely afford a far better one with the money he could lavishly throw around!
Yet, GM knew that Boomah was trustworthy and that the huge mansion could be managed well by none other than her. The other workers coming there were under her control and could play no tricks with their assigned work, nor could they even lay a finger on the smallest of things there. Boomah carried home only the food she cooked, since she didn’t need to do double duty at her place also! GG knew her hands were clean, and never would she take undue advantage of her boss’s kindness. She respected and reciprocated the trust her landlady had in her. Everything in the “Mansion” had always been clean, well maintained, and safe, all because of Boomah. She carried not only the leftovers of food but also often the keys of the house as well, as the trust in her permitted them to.
Thus, grandma never minded her company since she often felt lonely and sometimes even sick, and so her company made her comfortable and safe. She knew quite well Boomah could sit in the vast hall in the mansion and watch the serials on the life-size television, but she wouldn’t. She came to give GG company, besides having a watch on her for safety also. But GM, on her side, despite her unsaid concern and love for Boomah, also respected her remarkable quality of loyalty.
Yet, once her little grand girl returned from school, Boomah became a crowd for GM, and she would almost force her out of her unaccommodating hut that could house only two: grandma and her darling baby! Boomah would become “a crowd”, much too much inside her tiny, little hut!
Now, as the two old ladies sat watching the small TV, they felt the horrifying scene rather exaggerated, and Boomah declared, “Why four men to kidnap a tiny little girl? How ghastly!?” But somehow in the movies and the small screens, they had them to make it cinematic and to have the audience on pins indeed!
The two elderly citizens kept their eyes glued to the little screen, watching very intently at one of the kidnappers, with that long, uncombed hair, carrying the child on his dark, oily shoulders, with the child's limp body dangling and moving in rhythm to his ugly torso. He was carrying her like a piece of cloth on his, and this got grandma, who was watching it, sitting on the edge of her usual place on the sofa, rather worried and very tense, as if she were being pierced by sharp needles from all around!
His eerie, gruesome looks angered grandma so much that she shouted, “No, no”. As he lifted the child with his right hand to get a better grip of its slippery body lying completely unconscious there, grandma gasped! Her eyes were keenly moving in step with every move he made. But her heart pained to think that the girl was being taken a long way away from home and far from safety. He was holding her and moving rather casually, but to grandma he seemed to be crushing her dainty body to crumbles.
She had almost finished biting what little she had left of her stubbed nails on her wrinkled old hands. The hands that could hardly hold a glass of water without shaking now seemed to be dancing and drumming. She wriggled and twisted her aged hands and fingers, all moving in circles and in contrast to her lips so tightly pursed. The pair of half-sunk eyes with a few countable lashes were now widely open. The outwardly jutting pair of thick eyebrows above gave her the real “GM” look now. The usually pretty face hardly looked so at the moment. Her thoughts and mood grew visible on her face!
Now she had almost lost herself totally and hardly matched the strong person she was inside. Her eyes that were overtly protruding, a pair of legs ready to run and save the helpless little child on the screen a while ago, a crisis too fearful, and a situation too fatal confused her all the more. Her mind irked to rescue the child, and her heart cried and seemed to bleed with sympathy for her.
She suddenly seemed more aged and less beautiful. None would ever believe she was a great looker during her younger days; beautiful enough to have married the richest and most handsome man ever. Like her looks, her life style also seemed to have changed and become a mystery that none would ever know!
But Manthra knew and believed that "GG" was the best ever and had the most beautiful heart of love, affection, benevolence, and care. This is how she certified GG almost every day, since she could never be otherwise or any less. “GG is indeed Gorgeously Good”.
But then? What is happening to her now? Her mind had started slowly drifting from the small, old television, and that “Gorgeously Good Heart” below suddenly began feeling too heavy and started to grow unreasonably too frightened.
"Baby, my little girl, Manthra, where are you?” Grandma was suddenly seen moving towards no distinct place. She appeared to be groping at something, though it wasn't too dark yet. "Baby, my little girl, where are you? Grandma's here, baby; I'm here". “Did I say ‘Yes’ to you? Yes? Did you ask me for something, and did I say ‘Yes’, my child?”
She was inching towards the passageway out of the tiny room that hosted her bed and other comforts that she called a bedroom. She and her little girl shared that bed every night with one of their small bodies half falling out. A small cot, a few clothes, a small extension they called a “kitchen” to cook their sparse meals, and a shrubby covering that they had built and called their restroom helped the two ladies of 13 and 80 to attend to nature’s call or have their bath in.
If a cinema director had caught her on a shot so similar, her animated face and body would surely have won the Oscars. But the stabbing irony of it all was that she was undergoing a similar experience of the likeness of this cinematic situation. The doubt, anxiousness, and fear were beyond her aged experience and worldly knowledge to comprehend. She almost fainted with the bitterness of the rushing thoughts hitting her mind, and her heartbeats seemed to be banging so fast and so hard on her brains. She felt like they were the death knells announcing a deeply sad event, but of what and about whom she couldn’t say.
She knew she was cheating herself by pretending to believe that things weren’t too bad. Boomah announced her time for departure, and yet Manthra had not returned home. She’d gone with her friend Smrithi to the music class on the bicycle she had gotten from a second-hand source since she couldn’t afford to spare more. Her son’s investments for Manthra, her daughter-in-law’s jewellery, and a few hidden savings of her own would have sufficed to allow grandmother and granddaughter to live a royal life. Yet they were leading a pattern of life far below their actual worth. Manthra had often and on many occasions sensed this from GG’s activities and behaviour, but she too cleverly played in tune to GG’s mysterious game. She had never asked GG any questions, even after she had attained a stage of maturity to guess things. But she believed that one day she would know, and it would all come right from the horse’s mouth. GG would sure tell her the truth!
Now it became the most regrettable moment for GM, since she had insisted on Manthra going by half-broken cycle instead of affording a car and a personal driver for her! But this was no time for “options that could have been;” instead, it was “What might have happened?” Manthra had not returned yet, and the next move was to go out in search. Boomah was her only solace as of now. Fortunately, she had left earlier, as she usually did. Only after the close of the serial that got over by 7:00 pm did she leave. This day she got busy discussing what might be the plight of the little girl who was kidnapped. She just couldn’t wait till tomorrow, nor could she hold her assumptions of what likely events might evolve. Her sense of creativity and imagination ran riot, and she kept adding her version to the storyline that scared GG more. In the bargain, her wild imagination landed GG in a state of perpetual confusion and uncontrolled apprehension she had never felt nor experienced before. Even the demise of her son and daughter-in-law in the accident hadn’t left her so badly devastated. She had accepted that as fate and destiny, though she knew it wasn’t.
But now, she started feeling a stabbing pain at the pit of her stomach. She had not moved out of this shack in many years. Boomah had seen Ramu Anna (as she addressed him) coming to meet GG and conversing and discussing matters not known or told by GG to date. He got everything required to run a home. From milk, vegetables, and provisions to bills, papers, and documents to sign, Ramu Anna came of support. Boomah knew better than to ask who and for what Ramu Anna came so often. GG would never confide in her, she knew. She believed even Manthra wasn’t told of this and many hidden secrets that were kept deeply dug only in GG’s mind!
But now, even before Ramu Anna was reached via phone, GM insisted they go in search of her missing granddaughter. The usual composed expressions on her face had suddenly turned animated, and she obviously showed signs of being drained of her normally cool character and composure. She was feeling sick, and Boomah could do nothing more than try to bring her back to normalcy.
“My baby is lost. My Manthra is gone forever”, she repeated the same for how long she did not know, and she concluded, “My baby is lost. My Manthra is gone forever”. The thorough extravert that she was and the positive attitude she had been known for and that which was visibly inherited by Manthra; were now waning off.
She started to imagine Manthra being abducted by someone wretched, like the way the girl on the screen was being carried away! What would be her condition now? Would “he” be treating her badly? Would he by now have … her or even killed her? Grandma didn’t even know she was talking, or rather shouting her thoughts aloud, till she felt someone shaking her vigorously. After what seemed ages, she could hear Boomah’s voice asking her, “Who is this ‘he’? Do you know him? What makes you think she’s been kidnapped by the person you seem to be suspecting? Is he known to you? A relative, a friend of your family? Who’s this ‘wretched woman’ you are talking about? The mansion is yours? Legally Manthra’s?”
What was this old lady saying? Has senility hit her so suddenly? Or has the late coming of her little Manthra turned her a bit cranky? Or has madness abruptly set in with a bang to make her so deliriously insane?
Well, too many were the uncertainties filling Boomah’s mind. She started to have several strange questions that needed answers immediately, or else, she might turn insane as well! Everything around, not just the missing of Manthra, but the connection these two seemed to be having with the mansion she has been working in for so many years, and strangely, being so closely connected with this elderly lady here and that young, dainty child, missing now, without knowing even the least about them?! Shocking and strange! Many queries to be answered had started to haunt Boomah.
Boomah’s only saviour would now be Ramu Anna, she decided, and so she instinctively and instantly took out her mobile phone and dialled his number. Quite a few times had she to redial, before he picked up the call. His tired, unusually agitated voice said from the other side, “Tell Amma, she’s safe”. And the instrument went dead. Boomah blinked and continued to have her mind wander more, and for a moment she wondered whether what she was encountering was real or whether she was watching the screen!
Funnily and rather surprisingly, she noticed a marked change in “Amma’s” face. (Boomah, like Ramu Anna always addressed her, ever since she had come to the mansion for work almost a decade and a half ago). Now, as she continued holding the erstwhile delirious woman, she began to find an abrupt change in her. Her entire body, so frail and light, seemed to have grown suddenly heavy and bothered.
What seemed an eternity for her, and obviously for the iron lady here, there was much noise, and voices of many were heard outside her little den.
Epilogue
Conversation between Boomah and Ramu Anna:
Boomah: Anna, what is all this about? How is it that Rohith and Manthra are together here?
Anna: Manthra left home this evening to help Rohith at the hospital after his accident.
Boomah: How come our Jothi Madam allowed someone else to take care of her son?
Anna: Our Ma'am finally has come to understand the value of people. She was the sole reason for the accident that took away Manthra's parents.
Boomah: But why?
Anna: She wanted the entire property for her son, especially the palatial mansion you and I are working in.
Boomah: Oh God. Now what's this? Why should she want it? Does it not belong to her?
Anna: No, it’s actually Manthra's father's property. Jothi Ma'am is his sister who got married without the willingness of “Amma” here. Jothi Ma'am's greediness made her forge her mother's signature and usurp the property due to Manthra’s father.
Boomah: Oh my God!
Manthra and Rohith then completed the story for Boomah and the rest of the world to know.
Rohith: Manthra and I have always been friends from our childhood days.
Manthra: So, during our school hours we used to meet during intervals and free time to bring the two families together.
Rohith: So today we decided to play the climax of the story.
Manthra: I’ve been following GG’s interest and the engrossed follow up of every episode in this particular serial called “Betrayal”. I’ve heard her use this word often, and during our conversations, Rohith and I got to understand she was all the time talking about my aunt Jothi’s betrayal. GG's mind was on today's episode of kidnapping, which got me to feel today was the ideal day to jerk her back to reality.
Rohith: We wanted to help her have what was due to my uncle and my cousin Manthra, and so we decided to play on her emotions this evening.
Boomah: How so?
Rohith: We decided to come late after the music class both of us attend and called Ramu Uncle to help us inform grandma that Manthra was missing. That got her devastated, and so we realised that we should not keep her so anxious for so long. And, later, when you called, Ramu Uncle assured you of her safety. But to my mother, we made her sit on pins for long to make her understand the worth of lives. We knew the news to my mother that I had met with an accident would crumble her down, but we wanted her to feel the pain and sorrow grandma had been experiencing for so many years.
Manthra: I was worried about GG’s initial shock and the likely reactions that could even be fatal for her age to take in. But I trusted her willpower and optimism. She wouldn’t give in so easily. So we took our time to inform her because I was sure GG would relax if Ramu Uncle assured her of things. So, we got him to answer your call, and only after she confirmed that I was safe did she start to relax. I know she trusts him to the word.
Rohith: Ramu Uncle told my mother that I'd met with an accident.
Ramu Anna: Now, with our long-planned action, both Rani Amma (as he addressed GG) and Jothima (Rohith’s mother) have both come together.
Manthra: GG has given up on her stubborn contention of not ever talking to her daughter nor going back to the Magic Mansion.
Boomah: But who's GG's daughter, and why is the mansion called Magic Mansion?
Rohith: My mother Jothi is GG's daughter, and Manthra in English means “magic”.
While these clarifications are going on, GG also joins in.
GG: The mansion was named as “Manthra” by my son Hari, but his (referring to Rohith) mother had changed it and also changed everyone’s life out of her own greed and selfishness. She had always been a foil to her brother Hari by nature and behaviour. I’m very happy her son (pauses), my grandson Rohith, is like his uncle and least like his mother. God bless you, my child. (She hugs Rohith, and he too responds instinctively.)
Manthra: So Rohith and I played this drama to bring our family back together.
(Saying so, she pulls Jothi aunty inside their small den. Jothi looks at her mother for a long time and then at the house and puts her haughty head down with utmost guilt and repentance.)
Jothi: Amma, I know you would never be able to forgive me for having put you to such shame and ignominy and for having made you live such a life for so long a time. Please forgive me. I know you do not want to even look at my face, but I ask for forgiveness since I know my mother’s divine quality of forgiving. I have lost my husband and many other things with it. I do not want to lose my son now, and not you any more. I wish to have my niece forgive me too. Do forgive me, Amma. (And she falls at her mother’s feet.)
(After much hesitation and with her grandchildren in mind, she accepts her daughter’s apology by putting her hand on her head.)
GG, the real good woman that she is, forgives her daughter and expresses her admiration and pride over both her grandchildren.
The moral of the story:
"Child is the father of man", said a great poet called William Wordsworth. Now these two small children have taught their elders the value of honesty, unity, integrity, and forgiveness.
The curtain falls just as Boomah shouts:
A poem to visualise a world, “Free from and Free of…”
‘Zero to Infinity’
Free from pollution; and less of contamination.
Free from deforestation; and more of afforestation.
Free from molestation; and less of human violation.
Free of organ theft, and more of organ donation.
Girl abuse, child labour and adultery,
Unemployment, retrenchment and robbery.
Untouchability, racism and bigotry.
Social injustice, unfairness and biased treachery!
Homicides and Suicides, and more of development and evolution.
Infanticides and female foeticides, and more of woman authorisation.
Money laundering and bribery, and less of fraudulence and corruption.
Violence and vehemence, and more of peace and healthy evolution!
We need to Zero all the wrongs to attain eternal Infinity’
Today's moral of the story:
The world has become a very dangerous place to live in, especially for the girl children. Hence, bringing up girls like the way Groovy Grandma brought Manthra up as a bold, smart, sensible child is the need of the hour. Each one has to learn to live and love life; yet if need arises, life has to be challenged and defeated. If young boys support their girlfriends, then the world would be safe and life would be happier.
I'm not giving you a fairy tale hope or flimsy positivity, but a responsibility to make the world a safer place. "Every drop makes a mighty ocean", goes the saying. Likewise, if every reader of this short story lifts just one hand to save this world from multiple problems and disasters, we together can put an end to most of the manmade disasters.
“A simple ‘Yes’ from us would doubtlessly lead us to something too positive that we may never see coming”.
Wouldn't it be grand if we made a paradise of this mother Earth of ours...
React
