Is he a bigot? Will he go back to his violent ways when Trouble comes home?
I wrote this short story 'Open Up' (yeah, yeah, a story set in lockdown days) last year.
Number of words: 2280
OPEN
UP
Six months
into lockdown and life has not been better. No husband, no abuse. He still
comes for money. That is done from a safe distance. Social distancing be
praised.
I have not
got out of this compound. It has been eight months since I went to my village.
My kids call once in a while. To ask for money. I tell them to get it from
their father. Let them try that.
In this
house, life has been the same. Amma has to spend more time with Appa. His
bladder is giving him more trouble and he is weaker. Yettan does the shopping.
I have to clean one more room, upstairs, because of the newcomer.
I have been
with them for fifteen years or so. I am from their village. A distant relative
of some sort. Yettan was not here when I first arrived. He was in some high
post somewhere. Then, it was just me, Amma and Appa. And, the constant trouble
from my husband. The old couple could do nothing to stop him.
Then, Yettan
came back. Retired early after all that trouble in the papers. I still remember
that rainy afternoon. The brute of a husband was drunk and he was hitting me
with his belt. We were fighting in the small backyard. He wanted money. He did
not like it when I asked him about his woman. We did not notice Yettan at
first. I saw him only when the beating stopped and when my husband looked up, his
anger turning into something meek and scared. Yettan was standing on the first
floor back balcony staring at us. Truth be told, his eyes scared me too. I have
seen such eyes when Rajan, the village butcher, kills a buffalo. Dead eyes to
bring death to the living. After that day, my husband behaved well within the
compound. Even when we met outside, he was better-behaved. Once, when he was
drunk, he said something like, “You and your Yettan…” but he did not complete
the sentence even though I urged him to do so. When the lockdown started,
Yettan told us that I could meet my husband outside the compound only if I
wanted to leave for good. I did not want that, nor did my husband.
Do I not make
it sound as if Yettan is always hovering near me? After he returned home,
disgraced and alone, he occupied two rooms on the first floor. Amma, Appa and I
continued as usual downstairs. The old ones were happy to have his company.
Even when he was away working, he visited every two months, took them to the
village and to the hospital for check-ups. Their two daughters have been here
only for Onam or some occasion like that. The Uncle next door and Appa talk on
the phone at times. They do not really need the phone. Both are hard of hearing
and the whole neighbourhood gets to hear what they say. It is fun when they
talk politics. Amma here and Aunty next door try to hush them up, scared that
the local goons will hear their views and pay a visit. “Let them come, those
parasites,” the old men cackle. They are more serious when they talk about
their kids. “Don’t worry, they will come when you are dead, if they haven’t
grabbed all that’s theirs, they will come.” Appa kept quiet when Uncle said
that.
I think
Yettan is just a guest. The house will go to one of the two daughters. Once in
a while, when Yettan is in a bad mood, he pokes at Amma and Appa about their two
beloved kids. He never says three kids. He might be a guest but he did not want
me to clean his bedroom or study room. I saw him only when he came down for
meals. Or when he cooked chicken. I can cook better but it is fun when he tries
these new recipes. That is the only time I have seen him smile. He was not like
that before. I remember when he was young, when he used to visit our village. “The
young man with a sweet smile always,” everyone said. He used to be religious
then. Now, he does not even pray before the lit lamp downstairs. I think he is
still very religious within.
She arrived
about a month after lockdown started. Two days before she came, Yettan had a
yelling session with his parents. “Don’t you dare say anything to her. And tell
your two kids to stay away from her.” Amma and Appa looked scared and
uncomfortable. They kept their heads down. Amma cried in the storeroom.
Even though I
had expected it, I remember the news when Yettan retired, it was quite a shock
to see her in that outfit. It took a while for us to notice her big expressive
eyes, so like Yettan’s. I knew that look in her eyes. She was scared. Really
scared. Of course, I would know that look. Poor thing, I thought. Still, she did
not have to wear that here? I didn’t say anything. I wanted to. But Amma
silenced me with a look.
How old is
she now? She was two years old when all that happened. Thirteen years have gone
by, I think. She must be in high school. At home, she wears normal stuff.
Yettan gave his bedroom to her. Set up a study table there for her. He asked me
if I could clean her bedroom too. Of course, I said. I helped them set up a
prayer corner. She placed her mother’s photo there. Amma told me that the kid’s
mother and step-father were among the first casualties of the Covid. The kid prayed
quite frequently. First few days, we saw her only during meal time.
Appa smiled
at her. It was a fake smile. He is like that. He just cannot lie. When Yettan
was not around, he poked at the kid. “Don’t you have to wear that when you eat?
How can you raise the veil when you eat?” Amma pinched him and made him stop.
They glared at each other. They acted as if nothing had happened when Yettan turned
up. The kid did not tell Yettan about all that. He would have given Appa hell
then.
Yettan slept
in his study room. The first week, he stayed in that room a lot. She stayed in
her bedroom. There was a lot of silence in the house.
It was Appa
who changed first. He is like that too. Quick to show his emotions, quick to
change his affection. He told the kid stories of his childhood. How they
struggled during the war, how he lost a year of school because there was no
money. I knew those stories by heart. He narrates it over and over when I clean
the house. Amma took her time. But then, she is like that. Even with Yettan,
who she loves dearly, I wonder if she has hugged him even once. He has not
either, I am sure. Like mother like son. But he has got Appa’s temper. Not
quick though. But when he loses control, he is worse than Appa. Is that not why
he lost all?
Ten days
after her arrival, Yettan made new rules for her. A schedule. She did not like
it. Those scared eyes turned angry. Like father like daughter, I thought.
Yettan did not give her a choice. “I am not a baby for you to order me around,”
she shouted at him. Downstairs, I heard that and smiled. Appa too. It was
exactly like how Yettan shouted at his parents. Amma glared at us. Appa
continued to smile. He nearly laughed.
Every day, they
get up at half past five. That is when I wake up. They exercise on the back
balcony. I do not know what they do there but I can hear them. “I can’t do
more,” she would complain. Silence from him. A little later, “Raise your leg
higher. Kick properly.” I took mental notes when he told her where to attack a
guy. “If anyone touches you or irritates you in any way, you tell me.” Silence
from her.
They have
breakfast after bath. Then, for one hour, she has to be with Amma. “Wash or
wipe dishes, help around.” Amma and I wanted to tell him that she is not needed
but we keep quiet. Then, she studies. That was even before school started.
After lunch, again, she has to help. Then, she is free till teatime. After
every meal, she has to help us like Yettan even though both were just making it
tougher for me. She helps Yettan and me sweep and clean the courtyard and back
area. She can pray when she wants. The schedule includes that. From six to
dinner time, he sits with her and both of them go through textbooks. I sit on
the stairs listening to them. He is so different when he is teaching. Soft,
involved. The kid responds accordingly. She sounds excited, curious, happy. I
wish someone would talk to me like that.
There was
some problem when schools started online classes. That too came in the paper. Saroja,
the helper next door, told me that something had gone viral socially. Not
Covid. She gives me such news. She is very good with her clever phone.
Yettan got
her admission in his old school. They wanted her to wear uniform, and not her
outfit, during online classes. Yettan argued she should be allowed to wear her
veil.
Amma and Appa
were very tense then. “I knew he would do something to her,” Appa mumbled. Amma
silenced him quickly when she saw I was around.
It came in
the papers. The government and some politicians got involved. Saroja whispered
from the other side of the wall that the fight was really vicious online. She
said that the kid and Yettan were being roasted alive. Even those who used to
support him were attacking him.
The kid was
really scared. When the fight turned ugly, she asked Yettan, “Should I change
my ways?” He did not reply. She repeated her question. He replied then, “Continue
as you are till you are an adult. Then, you better think.”
The fire died
down unexpectedly. Saroja was really excited. She told me Yettan turned up
online. Saroja told me he killed all with one tweet. “What’s that?” I asked.
Saroja ignored my question and reported the tweet, “Ask your bosses if you want
skeletons to come out of the closet. If my daughter, or anyone close to me,
even catches a cold…” After that, nothing. Not even a poke from any side.
The school
did not like the publicity, I think. Some politician called him a betrayer and
that he had had more guts when he stood with their party against such stuff.
Yettan was not with any party at any time, I am sure. He had bashed up the guy
really good, I know. Who would not bash up a guy who takes your wife? That too
like that! Yettan did not touch his ex-wife but she made it sound as if he had
hit her too. Someone senior in the government helped Yettan avoid jail. She got
married to that guy, converted to their ways, brought up the kid their way. Yettan
lost a wife, a kid and his job. I remember the talk in our village. We were so angry
with that lot in our village even though they were not at all involved. Even
they were angry but they must have understood what Yettan had to do.
After online
classes started, it was back to the schedule. Followed it religiously. Poor
kid. He was very harsh with her at times. She had this habit of leaving her used
clothes carelessly. “Pick it up. Can’t you leave it in the laundry basket? And,
wash your own underwear.” He scolded her in front of me another time. “Don’t
call her by name. Do you call your teachers by name.” That time, the kid
replied. “Mamma used to do all that.” And, he said, “Yes, I know.” She did not
give up, “You want to erase everything of Mamma.” He stared at her for a while
before replying, “Only her irritating ways.” The kid had the good sense not to
retort.
Last week,
there was a scare. The kid told Yettan that the teachers and the school
Principal want to talk to him. “What have you done?” Even Amma and Appa were
very anxious. He continued, “Ask my parents. Not once did my teachers want to
talk to them.” What could the poor kid do?
He took the
video call in the dining room. I was in the kitchen. Amma, Appa and the kid
were in the living room.
“What’s the
problem now? What has she done?” Yettan started without even a polite greeting.
I heard laughter from the other side. Amma later told me what they said. The
kid has topped her class. At first, her teachers thought she was cheating in the
online exams. They tested her individually. They realized she was not cheating.
In fact, she is a class or two ahead of others, they said. They asked her if
she got coaching from elsewhere. She mentioned her father.
“They wanted
Yettan to help the other kids too,” Amma told me the rest too. “I just sit with
her,” Yettan told the teachers. “I’m not suitable for the other kids.” They
understood.
Amma added,
“He has got his smile back.”
