Avantika alighted from the rickshaw , and the hem of her saree caught in the corner of the beaten aluminium tray , used as the footrest . An impatient toss of the folds and a loud , sickening rrrrip rent the air . The rickshaw -wallah tut tutted in mock sympathy . It was her favourite pink, taant silk. With small red roses on the hem .
She tried hard not to step on the loop.Her red roses getting muddier with each step, Avantika stopped suddenly , turned back and shouted into his startled face "Usko thik karao" (repair it ) as she pointed to the jagged corner of the metal footrest of the rickshaw .
Raju , her regular rickshaw chap , was missing today . This new guy , went away , muttering oaths about women.
She crossed the front of the shop , with the glass fronted refrigerated cases , nearly empty , except for a half finished tray of burfis , with some flies humming around it . Sambhuda had again forgotten to keep leftovers away , she sighed . The inside of the case was lit up , but unfogged , meant a longish power cut and recent restoration of power. She threw some folders on her cashiers table , and wondered , when she will have enough money to buy a generator ?
Turning towards the kitchen, realised with sudden sickening awareness that she was standing in her flat sole depth of slush . That meant fridge malfunctioning in the night , melting of all ice , trickling of melt water , souring of yesterday's jalebi dough , and spoiling of gulab jamuns too . All this became clear to her ,even as her nostrils took in the sour stench of the putrified food stuff.
Letting out a huge sigh of resignation , she dragged the closest iron folding chair , and checking the seat for any syrup/atta , not that it mattered anymore , plonked herself . Sambhu , in rolled up pyjamas , looked at her with trepidation . The saree border was a unified dripping black now . No more roses.
"Chai ? Didi ?" He said after some moments . Avantika shook her head, dolefully.
It took roughly three hours to sort out the mess. Clients who had already placed orders couldn't be disappointed . Hence , Avantika shelled out money and had some readymade sweets bought from her friendly , neighbourhood shop and sent over . Next , shutters were downed for some serious cleaning . A compost pit which had been dug up in the backyard became the graveyard of the spoilt sweets and dough . Electrician was called and so was the LG consumer care chap . The floor was attempted to dry . But the black grime remained ,"like a stain of shame " thought Avantika grimly , despite furious scrubbing .
Sambhu took a break and lit up his bidi . Avantika rolled up her pleats , stuck them up into her waist , grabbed a mop , and tried scrubbing the tiled walls of the shop , looking every inch the charwoman her husband always accused her of being . She also tied her pallu around her mouth , thereby , finally ruining the starched saree , and giving Sambhu the message that he had better get out .
Sambhu went and returned . Post haste . He also threw away the stub , crushing it beneath his calloused toes.
"Didi, Babu eshchhen " (babu has come ) , He looked in her direction , and looked away , quickly .
Even before he could enter her meagre shop , Avantika knew who had breezed in . A mixture of cologne masking alcoholic odour , and that cheap musk . It was the "swami" , as they called the husband , in this part of the country. Dressed to boot , in a three piece suit and pointy polished shoes. "What timing ?" Thought she .
"Waah !Waah ! So you have decided to wear your true colours?"
Mockery escaped from his mouth , bubbling on the surface , like alcoholic fumes. Avantika made a feeble attempt to resurrect her "good bou " image by pulling off the pleats , and uncovering her mouth .
"I can see that your business is doing very well ." Another dollop of sarcasm , aimed at her heart . Avantika squirmed in silence . There was no point trying to speak , even in self -defence . He was inebriated . She could say . Flushed cheeks , loud voice , faltering tenor , subtle signs , but there all the same .
"How could you ? You have ruined our family name ? Is this a business for bous from good families ?" He emptied his verbal magazine . Loudly , very loudly . She was glad she wasn't in this room alone , though Sambhuda was cringing and could well be considered invisible , at this point.
Avantika sighed . It was his nth verbal assault.
Then something snapped inside her . Here she was , trying so hard to augment family income , even scrubbing the tiled walls , and here he is throwing sarcasm at her , when he should be picking up a broom , dialling the concerned people , helping her .
"You are not helping . Please go away ." The words , like an outspoken thought , had escaped her lips , even before she was aware .
"What?" He screamed , "What did you say ?" The outrage cleared his alcoholically fuzzed horizon .
"How dare you ? " He stamped his feet . Avantika felt a laugh bubbling from the pit of her stomach , like an unstoppable gas balloon . He looked every inch the spoilt baby she always knew he was.
" I made you who you are . You dare talk back to me . Fine , you will receive my papers . You will receive them . "
Ooh ! The papers ! She had been receiving this threat for so long that she was actually longing to see the goddamned papers . At least then she and her sweet shop will be left in peace . To hell with men , marriage and all the mindlessness! Tears welled up , even as the Swami stormed out with poor Sambhu wringing his hand and running after him , as if this all was his fault .
Next thing she knows is , one step to stop Sambhu and her foot gets caught in the torn border loop of her roses and she has fallen flat on her face , her mouth hitting the packed dirt floor with a resounding wham-splash .
&&&&&&&
Sambhu sent in his ageing and toothless wife , a compassionate comrade-in -arms , to pick Avantika up and resurrect her remaining dignity . One look at the pudgy old woman , with her saree permanently dirtied around the ample midriff, with constant cooking , cleaning , and baby sitting her million grandchildren, and Avantika burst into tears.
She wrapped her arms around a quietly crying Avantika , nestling her head in her ample bosom , that smelt of fish curry and sweat, and patted her head "There , there "
In between gasps for breath , Avantika just repeatedly said "O chole gaychche Boudi " (He has gone , Bhabhi )Something was loose in Avantika's mouth , it turned out to be a tooth , which she spat into her "pallu". The rose petals in her pallu becoming misshapen darkish red , as blood seeped into them.
"Jaak !Aamra aachchi ekhon " (Let him go ! We are here for you) Sombhu's wife said heavily , with resignation , finality and gritty courage so common in this class , but so rare in ours'.
Avantika wondered what will happen . Then she stopped her flow of thoughts as a piping hot , mind-numbingly sweet glass of tea was brought for her.Muddied , bloodied , tearful mess ,she looked up at Sambhuda with gratitude , even as her lip began rapidly puffing up at the point of impact.
&&&&&&&
She opened her bleary eyes when the cat, all seven pounds of squirming flesh, climbed onto her belly. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she was now the weary possessor of a pounding headache, and at some point, had managed to lose both a tooth and a spouse.
It was 8am in the morning , and Avantika had an entire morning to recall the dismal events of yesterday. The cat purred and rubbed herself against her legs , refusing to leave her mistresses' side even after lapping up two saucerfuls of milk . Avantika thought it was mighty sweet of the cat to keep her company , in these dire times . The husband was no longer living with her when she decided to open her shop with her father's meagre savings . Had he been living here , things could have been uglier . Avantika thanked the providence.
It would have been more devastating .
First things first . She sat on the iron cot in the balcony , and in the blinding summer sun , industriously stitched up her saree border , resolutely joining the red roses with the pink saree. Next she soaked it in warm water with two fistfuls of surf powder , to be washed later, of all the gooey grime . Then Avantika dug up a hole in her tulsi flower pot and buried her dismembered tooth , which sat patiently next to her bed , in her papier machie kashmiri craft box .Her tongue automatically rising to its socket , where a few strands of loose tissue hung , morosely painful.
Then Raju rang the bell . Her regular rickshaw guy . Seeing his toothy grin , assured Avantika that things are going to be alright . He was oblivious of her ongoing sorrow , so were most of the people in her building . She was only a small sparrow in a huge pigeonhole of a building , peopled by numerous birds. "Mujhse behtar kehne waale , tumse behtar sunne waale ". Mukesh wafted up from the bellies of the building , and she mustered up enough courage to smile and tell Raju " Just one minute " .
He waved her away , with pre-knowledge , of one minute being equal to ten , five for bathing , five for incense burning and hasty pooja , the smells and sounds of which reached Raju outside as he sat on the rickety bench , drumming up an accompaniment to Mukesh.
&&&&&&
The "papers " arrived by afternoon post . The "divorce papers". It was , once , a dreaded name , like the TB . Both the disease and the malaise , having lost their virulence , as the host immunity had grown by leaps and bounds .
Nor were the affected rendered untouchable .
Help poured in from strange , unexpected quarters . An old acquaintance rigged up a generator for the shop , and two new , ice lined display cases were discovered in the 'summer sale " bonanza of a new electronic shop . Avantika had to agree to their terms of displaying their neon signs , along with her own shop sign " Vimal Sweets" , an intriguing name.
&&&&&&
The day of final hearing dawned with the same blinding sunshine , that was to accompany Avantika's most beautiful and the the most beleaguered days . It was summer , once again , with white hot merciless sun , melting the tar on the roads , and making Raju's job harder , stickier.
"Shouldn't she be devastated , dishevelled , teary eyed , and begging to be taken back ?" Thought her husband , as he saw her alight from the rickshaw , clad in her trade mark starched pink silk saree with red roses in the border , looking like a fairy.
The proceedings went smoothly , and dotted lines were signed . When all was over , the husband raced to where her rickshaw stood , Avantika had just lifted one foot , carefully , to climb the rickshaw .
"Can I ask you something ?" he asked , looking all dishevelled instead. Perfectly composed , she nodded her head .
"Who is this Vimal you have named the shop after?"
"Oh ! That ! " She smiled and smoothed her starched pleats , glistening in the dappled sun under the court tree.
"That is an old friend !" She smiled and boarded the rickshaw , leaving him perplexed , and fuming under the tree where typewriters clacked , churning out petitions , by the dozen.
&&&&&&&
Raju was slow , on his way back . Putting his back into pedalling, he had to bodily lift himself off the seat and pedal hard , with his legs pushing them with all his bony might . At the shop front , the road smoothed out , he stopped pedalling , and cruised to a stop .
"Didi? Ek baat punchun?"(Sister, shall I ask something?) He tossed his head to the now dark neon sign .
"Who is this Vimal ?"
Laughter bubbled up to the surface . It had led to tongues wagging , and heads turning . Garnering all the wrong guesses , everyone arriving at wrong conclusions.
"It is the name of an old friend ".
"Achcha ?" Raju had pedalled away with a question instead of a reassurance .
&&&&&&&&&&
Later , seated in her newly upholstered chair , in tacky green , Avantika smoothed out her favourite saree's pleats , yet again .
A small , fine print , on the border's edge, beyond the red roses in pink silk, clearly read, in miniscule letters, "Only Vimal".
&&&&&&&&&&&
