Riding a dream…

Krishna looks in the mirror and almost doesn’t recognise herself.

A beautiful lady in her fifties in a plain grey silk saree stares back at her. She wears a string of pearls and matching pearl earrings. A radiant smile completes the picture; her favourite frozen ittar, dabbed just so on the underside of her wrists, leaving a beautiful fragrance around her.

As she goes around the house switching off lights in the rooms and dimming the lights in the living room, she remembers the last time she got all dressed up – her daughter’s wedding day. Like that day, today too, her saree is new – a gift that arrived from her daughter this week as an apology for not being able to come down to visit her as promised. And while that hurts really badly, she cannot help but enjoy the rustle of the silk as it swishes around her when she walks.   

Krishna has never been conventionally beautiful. And yet, she has always been attractive in a quiet, unpretentious way. And today, she hopes she isn’t overdoing it, while at the same time, wanting to go the distance, get all decked up and go all out!

“Whoa! Look at you! You look amazing! Turn around, let me see you completely…turn!” her daughter is beside herself.

Krishna is on one of her regular calls with her daughter on Skype. And even though she gets teary eyed every single time she talks to her daughter, today she is all the more sad because now she doesn’t really know how long she will have to wait to see her daughter.

“Oh come on,” she retorts in mock anger. “You know how this saree looks. You sent it to me, remember? As if a saree is going to make up for you not coming to visit…”

“Ma….please. We talked about this. I told you, I have been advised not to travel now…” her daughter says, pointing at her almost-seven-months-pregnant-self.

“Yes, that I can understand. Which is why I kept telling you not to leave it for so long…”

“Ma...” her daughter retorts, exasperated.

“Don’t you ‘Ma’ me now. Really, what do I have to do to get you to visit me here? Huh?”

Krishna dabs at her eyes gingerly.

“Ma, please stop. You will ruin your face and your saree if you cry!”

But that only gets Krishna crying more.

“Oh come on, Ma!” her daughter finally says. “Here I am, telling you, you are looking beautiful and you are crying!

“By the way, why are you dressed up at this time in the evening anyway? It is surely not to show me how you look in the saree…” she asks, cleverly changing the subject.

Krishna feels herself going red in the face.

“Oh nothing,” she says. “I am going to a play! It’s been ages, you know; and one is in town this weekend. So I thought, maybe I could…”

“Who are you going with?”

“Ummm….my neighbour…”

Her daughter narrows her eyes. “Your neighbour…? Your landlord! That Mr. Desai?” she asks incredulous.

“Yes, him….Mr. Des…Actually it was Ananta who asked; and well, I thought….it has been a long time…”

“Of course! So, who else is coming with you guys?”

“No one. Just me and Ananta…”

“Ananta?” her daughter has her eyebrows raised now and is looking at Krishna with her huge brown eyes.

Krishna goes silent.

Is she doing the right thing, she wonders suddenly. Her daughter doesn’t seem to be taking this as nonchalantly as she herself is. Was it wrong of her to have agreed to go out with Ananta? Was it selfish of her to want to go and see the play …But, doesn’t everyone deserve to be happy in life? And do whatever makes them happy?

“Ma? Ma!” her daughter waves at her on the screen, bringing her out of her reverie.

“Ma, what’s going on?”

“Shona,” Krishna says, evoking her daughter’s childhood nickname. “Ananta…my neighbour…is my childhood friend. He has settled down here now, after he retired. When you mentioned a Mr. Desai as my landlord with whom you negotiated my rental, I never realised it was Ananta you were talking about.

Shona, we have grown up together, Ananta and I. And now, when we are both on our own, at this age …well…we have found solace in each other’s company. And when the play came to town, he just asked if I would like to go. And I had been….for so long… I don’t know Shona… I said yes… I wanted to go see the play.

I am ….so lonely sometimes….but when Ananta is around, it is like…my childhood is back. The carefree time – when I was really happy is back.

Do you think I am doing something wrong Shona? Do you think, maybe, it is not right for me, at this age…..Do you…do you think this is… I mean, I know this isn’t normal, this isn’t routine, but…. do you think this is…defying some rules? You think this is disobedience to the norms of the society… do you…do you… ”

“Ma... ,“ her daughter interrupts. “Ma, listen to me. I think it is the best thing you are doing for yourself – allowing yourself to be happy. I am sorry if I asked too many questions. I think, you should really go watch this play. You deserve to be happy, Ma. And only you can decide what makes you happy. No norms, no rules. You decide what is normal, Ma. And disobedience to what?!”

Krishna feels so proud of her daughter right now. She nods tearfully. She must have raised her daughter right, after all. 

“And Ma, please convey my regards to Mr. Desai.” Her daughter now says in a teasing tone. “I am really grateful to him for making you so happy!”

A sob escapes Krishna as she tries not to laugh at the way her daughter says this last bit.

She is in the process of shutting down the laptop, still thinking of her daughter, when Krishna hears the screen door open.

She turns around slowly to see him standing in the doorway, resplendent in formal attire. He too has made an effort at dressing up. He too looks happy to be here, taking her out.

When he smiles at her, his eyes twinkling, crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes. For a moment, Krishna forgets everything else looking in those eyes. But then he sees her face, and he frowns.

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Krishna dabs at her eyes. “Yes. Everything is fine,” she says. And walks past him to keep the 

laptop in place.

“You clean up well,” she says as she turns back to him.

He shrugs. And smiles then, relieved that Krishna is back in good humour.

As they sit in the second row at the theatre, Krishna breathes in the mingled scent of leather seats and fresh flowers from the garlands that adorn the front of the stage. She looks at all the beautifully dressed men and women walking around, looking for their seats, greeting acquaintances, filing through the aisles to settle in before the First Act begins.  

Ananta touches her arm softly from the seat next to hers. When she turns around, she finds his face very close to hers. He hands her a single, red rose as he whispers in her ear, “Thank you for coming today.”

She smiles. Looks up at him. “Thank you for bringing me,” she says.

As the lights dim, and they hold each other’s gaze, Krishna thinks she would just melt with happiness right now. She hopes it is not all a dream, and wishes, that if it is, then she never wakes up from it. She is still reeling when his arm seeks hers out and before either of them realise it, she finds her head resting on his shoulder, his hand clasping hers, tightly.   

Note: 

This is Part 5 of the story I am writing as part of WriteTribe’s October 2017 ProBlogger Challenge.

The story is presented as an ongoing series. 
You can check out the story so far in Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4. And here's what happens in Part 6.