Amma died

Said some damn relative over the phone. He banged the phone down. He shouted, “She is no more, Trishna. Amma is no more…” Trishna was in the kitchen that day (for a change).

“Don’t worry, I am there for you. It’s only us now. I’ll take care of you,” said Trishna. “No… how could I be so blind?” said Aakash charging into the kitchen.

Next day morning…
Aakash was still asleep. He was tired. Exhausted. Death of a loved one is not easy to face. The alarm rang. It announced the beginning of another day.

He dragged himself from his bed to the bathroom. On the way, he stared at the ceiling. “Cobwebs in the corners, I need to clean this place tomorrow. I have to.”

Under the strong light of the single bulb in his bathroom, he shaved. “Hmmm… razor sharp stubble, I have got!”

A spider was spinning a new web at the corner where he had kept his soap. Whack!

“Got you, damn spider! Don’t you ever build your fucking web there…”

He turned on the shower tap. Hot water ran down his cold spine from the shower… he was feeling cold. But its only March, he thought. He closed his eyes.

He never had the guts to face flowing water. He came out drying himself; slipped into his favorite white shirt and blue jeans.

Combing his hair, he thought… “just short of being labeled a stud! But, amma said that I am the most handsome man she ever knew! And don’t worry, amma, I won’t tell dad.”

He checked keys, wallet, change, food coupons for dinner…. Well, all taken. “Let’s go. They can’t do it without me. I have to be on time.”

Went down the flight of stairs, and took a rickshaw straight to his amma’s house. He thought, “It’s been five years after I left home. I’ll be seeing her after such a long time. Wonder how she’ll look today?”

He reached his house. Lots of people were attending the function. All his uncles had flown down from abroad. His maternal uncle had specially come down from Kerala.

He walked in. Smiled at a few acquaintances. In the living room, sat his father and younger brother weeping. They were huddled together. In front of them was an earthen lamp lit. And beside it, his amma was lying as if in deep sleep.

“Amma,” he shouted. “See, I have come. I have come to meet you. Look at me. At least shout at me. Hit me. But talk…” Aakash just sat down next to his father. Nobody said a word.

The pandit came to him and whispered, “Son, we have to start the cremation. You are the elder son. Come with me. The time has come to say goodbye to her.”

Aakash stood. And did everything as told by his elders. This was the only time he never rebelled, never questioned a thing.

He had kept his promise. “Amma, rest in peace.” And he lit the pyre. He saw his amma burn.

He stood still. Till the fire had died down on the pyre. Till his heart caught fire.

He rushed back to his rented room. Undressed himself. Now, he stood naked in front of the mirror. He looked at his reflection. There were no tears. Was life so fast? He did not feel a thing. Was five years of separation so much that it broke the umbilical bond?

“I am free. For the first time, I feel free. No more worries. No more amma to take care of. Now, I can start my own life.”

He turned the shower tap. He remembered, “Amma always used to say you must always take a bath after you come from a funeral or cremation… you should put your clothes to wash…”

She was so loud. He always used to ask her to shut up. “Amma, just shut up, I want to watch a movie here.”

“Yeah, amma, I love her more than I love you. And so I am leaving home.” Those were the last words he had spoken to her. Then, he left home forever, and married Trishna… the love of his life.

The only condition Trishna had laid down was that after marriage she won’t stay with her in-laws. “Well, now at least that is taken care of forever… amma died a slow death because I left home without even a second thought,” thought Aakash.

There was no water in the tap. He burst. His tears welled up, and flowed. There was no amma anymore.

“Amma, just once, I want to tell you… I loved you more than anybody else. She is no more. She won’t come between us anymore. It’s all over finally. No more fights and hidden sighs anymore, amma… I did it. I did what I should have done a long time ago.”

He looked at the ceiling; his mother’s portrait was still smiling at him. The corner of his bathroom mirror where that spider was building a web still held an old photo of him in his mother’s arms.

He looked at the bed. On the bed, Trishna was lying in a pool of blood…

A mood piece dedicated to Sunill R Nair.