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Treasured Possession

Discussion in 'Snippets of Life (Non-Fiction)' started by jaishvats, Jun 27, 2010.

  1. jaishvats

    jaishvats Bronze IL'ite

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    Finest Blog - Winner - June 2010

    It had been a beautiful day, one you would describe as pleasant. The sky was laden with clouds but it did not rain. Damayanti gently swayed in a swing on the terrace of her coastal palatial home, watching the waves lash against the shore. There was not a single black strand in her hair that she had tied up in a bun. It had a rich texture and was kind of shining silver in color. Her maroon cotton sari stood in sharp contrast to her fair complexion and her diamond ear-studs gleamed in the evening sun’s rays. She was seventy and had aged with grace.

    Chandra, her cook, brought a cup of steaming tea. “Ahh!!! Thanks Chandra!!! Your tea is one of the heavenly things in life” she quipped.

    Chandra smiled and said “Now drink it fast before it gets cold” as if she were talking to a five year old. She had been working for Damayanti for almost three decades now and exercised a few daughterly and sometimes motherly rights over her. Other than these two, the occupants of the house were a few more servants.

    “Chitramma and her twins are coming this Thursday, right?” asked Chandra

    “No Chandra. Something urgent has turned up at work I believe. She has postponed it by a week.”

    “God help us!” she rolled her eyes. “Ever since they said they are coming we have not been able to handle you at all. Now one more week of it!!!” she added with a smile.

    Damayanti’s routine was almost the same everyday. She always got up before sunrise and age made no change to that custom. After a good walk along the beach, she would shower and meditate for an hour in the tranquility of the pooja room. Her mornings were devoted to tending her rose garden in her front yard. In the afternoons she would sleep for some time and then work on Tanjore paintings, an art she had mastered in her youth. Even though she was finding it difficult to hold the brush steadily and her eyesight was slightly blurred her paintings were masterpieces.

    Damayanti finished her tea and went inside the house. She performed her evening pooja, had her dinner and retreated to her room.

    “Chandra!! Chandra!! Please come here to my room.” Chandra heard Damayanti calling out with a tinge of anger and frustration. She came running.

    “My jewel box is not there on my bedside. How many times do I have to repeat that no one is supposed to touch it? Who cleaned my room today? ” asked Damayanti.

    “Vijaya was not well today so she sent her daughter to do the cleaning. It should be here somewhere.”

    Chandra checked the wardrobe shelves and then looked inside the dresser drawer. There was a small wooden box with intricate carvings on it.

    “Here it is!” she exclaimed and replaced it on top of the bedside table.

    Damayanti remarked in a tone full of irritation “If they cannot do the cleaning without re arranging my things then I don’t need any cleaning in here.”

    Chandra returned to the kitchen. Kavitha, the new cook asked her “Madam should be having a safety locker at the bank! Why keep the valuables next to her bed and worry about it so much?”

    “It’s not good to ask too many questions where you work. After you are done with the vessels you can go to bed.” Chandra responded curtly.

    Damayanti sat on her bed and opened the jewel box. She took out its contents and kept on her lap. Throughout the day she tried to occupy herself with some activity or the other. Yet at this hour of the day, her loneliness sank into her and she felt very sad. After staring at the contents for some time, she put them back into the jewel box and tried going to sleep. The thought about getting to meet her grand daughters the following week brought a smile to her face. She fell asleep almost instantly.

    Thanks to a father with modern views, she was very educated compared to the women of her times. She had been born with a silver spoon and it never left her. After her graduation, she married Paranthaaman who was very close to her mental image of a perfect husband. But for a very long time, none of their attempts to have children bore fruit and this created a terrible emptiness in their lives. After eight miscarriages Damayanti conceived Chitra at her fortieth age.

    When Chitra arrived, the emptiness in her life vanished. But it was replaced by a never-ending anxiety; a constant nagging fear of losing her child. Every night she woke up sweating all over, breaking herself out of horrible nightmares. This fear started reflecting in her upbringing of her daughter. When Chitra was a baby Damayanti would always keep her on her lap and never put her down. She was never allowed to go to any class excursion. When all her friends started coming to school in trendy bicycles, Chitra got one, but it was restricted to their compound. Damayanti never allowed her to go to any of her friends’ homes. The driver would pick her up sharp after school and she never dared to be late or else Damayanti would have a million questions for her. Chitra was very good at sports and the school coach wanted her to join the district hockey team. That brought along the possibility of her visiting various other towns for tournaments. The no from her mother was something she had anticipated. Damayanti decided almost every thing in her life; what she wore, what she ate, where she went, what she watched. She completed school with flying colors and got admission in her dream institute. Damayanti would not dream of Chitra staying in a different town and that too in a hostel. Chitra had to be contended with the local college, an all girls one the way her entire education had been so far. Even after joining college she was never allowed to go anywhere alone. Either Damayanti herself or a servant always accompanied her.

    Chitra was a very quiet girl and very obedient and timid, to all appearances. Damayanti never realized that her restrictions were instilling a rebel inside her daughter waiting to spring out. She had had enough of being smothered. She craved to be independent and free; to explore the world outside. Without Damayanti’s knowledge she made arrangements for her higher studies in London and also got her travel papers ready. When she announced her decision, Damayanti was agitated. But Chitra was adamant. There were arguments and heated discussions. Nobody had the faintest idea that there was so much fire and stubbornness in the girl. Her arguments with her mother left everyone dumbfounded.

    When Chitra said
    “Mother, I sometimes feel that I am more of a puppet or a play-toy for you; something that you can move around as per your whims and fancies. I really wonder if you have any love for me at all. I cannot take this anymore. I feel like a convict in this house. I have decided to go and I think I have reached an age where I can make my own decisions. I am going to go no matter what. Anything you say against it is not going to change that; it would only make me hate you more.” Damayanti was speechless.

    Chitra left for the UK. As weeks turned into months and months into years Damayanti realized that her daughter was going farther and farther away. A year after she left Paranthaaman succumbed to a major heart attack. In her fourth year abroad Chitra called up and informed that she had an American colleague named Stuart whom she had decided to marry. Chitra had not visited India after that.

    The next morning Chandra was preparing breakfast. The newspaper boy came panting and said “Madam….Madam….She fainted on the beach!! Some of the other walkers are trying to revive her.” Chandra rushed outside.

    Damayanti never gained consciousness. That had been her last walk.

    It was the last day of the obsequies. Chitra was sitting on her mother’s cot arms wrapped around her knees. She recalled the last conversation they had had. The twins’ school had caught a fire that day and the children had got trapped inside. It had been a harrowing two hours for her as fire personnel fought against the flames. The kids were rescued with minor burns but it took some time for the panic, tension and terror inside her to subside. That night as she sat at their bedside looking at their innocent sleeping faces she had thought about her own mother. A feeling of guilt swept over her. She felt Damayanti’s image in her own self, wanting to protect her daughters; keeping them away from all harm. She was able to reason with her mother’s nature, view it from a different angle. She picked up the phone and called up Damayanti. It was the longest and most heartfelt conversation they had had in years or perhaps one that they had never had before.

    Lost in her thoughts she absent mindedly ran her fingers through the intricate carvings of the jewel box on the bedside table.

    “Your mother was very sentimental about that jewel box.” Chandra was standing near the door.

    “None of us know what is inside but she treasured it more than anything else.”

    Chitra placed the jewel box on the bed and opened it. It had two tiny silver anklets, those of a baby. Beneath the anklets was a folded paper, yellow with age, slightly torn at the folds. Chitra opened it.

    “Chitra P, Std II” was written in the right hand corner in large letters in a child’s handwriting.

    “MY MOTHER” was scrawled in yellow at the top of the page. There was a crayon picture of a mother and daughter. At the bottom it was written “My mother’s name is Damayanti. She takes good care of me. I love my mother very much. She is my best friend.”

    Chitra closed her eyes and let the tears flow.
     
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  2. knot2share

    knot2share Gold IL'ite

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    I don't want to be repeating myself, but what can I do though?? Your blogs are really fantastic to read. Another beautiful story told dear friend. These are all everyday life incidents of many and possibly that is why it means a lot. The truth of life, so neatly put in words from your desk. Keep it up and keep them coming please. Hope your N key has been fixed on the keyboard :).
     
  3. Custard

    Custard Gold IL'ite

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    Hello Jaishvats,

    Nice Blog! Feelings are brought out very well!!!
     
  4. jaishvats

    jaishvats Bronze IL'ite

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    thanks knot2share and custard!!!

    no noo....my Nnn is still under repair and i just realized that the Enter key that I thought was fixed is not actually fixed :bangcomp:
     
  5. Pomegranite

    Pomegranite Bronze IL'ite

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    What a sweet story! Really lovely :}
    Ami
     
  6. varalotti

    varalotti IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Jaishvats,
    Very few things could make a middle-aged mofussil accountant cry especially during his office hours when a client meeting got called off all of a sudden. I invested the time in reading your story. And it was the wisest investment I ever made.
    Yes, dear, you made me cry with your simple narration. No wonder the story has been nominated for the finest blog for this month.
    Psychologists are now talking of wholesome entertainment. And I can't think of a better example than your story.
    I think the best antidote to our women who waste their time in TV soaps, will be to read this story.
    May you be blessed with health, happiness and prosperity.
    And you have raised your own bar. We are going to expect much greater things from your desk. beware.
    love,
    sridhar
     
  7. jaishvats

    jaishvats Bronze IL'ite

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    Dear Sridar sir,
    I am unable to find the exact words to thank you for that wonderful comment. Thank you so much. I am moved by your words and happy that you enjoyed my story.Thanks for your wishes.I am now able to relate to these words in your own profile
    "When a reader calls me up to tell that she cried reading my story, well, that to me is equivalent of winning a Sahitya Academy Award or a Man Booker."
    Thanks and waiting eagerly for I Love You 7
     
  8. kelly1966

    kelly1966 Platinum IL'ite

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    Jaishvats.....
    amazing heart touching story.... yes often we feel crowded by our parents concern but just for argument sake don't you think Dama was being a bit unreasonably paranoid and so chithra only reacted and behaved as any adult would if their lives are dictated forever... just my take on the story....
    sorry if my perception was not in line with your thoughts...
    K
     
  9. tweetyme

    tweetyme New IL'ite

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  10. mithila kannan

    mithila kannan Gold IL'ite

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    My dear jaishvats,
    That was a very beautiful story.A mother who is to protective about her only daughter and the daughter who is unable to breathe smothered by that tight embrace.
    The conclusion was an emotional one.Nothing can separate the bonding between a mother and child.

    love
    mithila
     

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