Rashmi's Space

“Mr. Desai?” Ananta looks up. “These are Ms. Kamath’s ornaments,” the nurse says, handing him two gold bangles, a gold chain, and a pair of pearl earrings. Ananta stands up and takes them, the way one would take back an offering from a priest at a temple. Then he sits back down on the bench he has been sitting on for some hours now. He looks down at Krishna’s ornaments. And keeps looking at them long after the nurse has turned and walked away.  How has it all come to this? It was only a few hours back that he had gone to Krishna’s house, late in the evening. He was hoping to talk some sense into her. He was looking forward to making her understand how thoughtless she was being in deciding to go away from him. He wanted to make her realise that she wasn't even understanding the seriousness of what she was about to do. And in the process, she was going to break her own heart too…how could she not see that? And so he had gone to Krishna’s house. But he ...

“What?” “Ananta…” “Have you gone mad Krishna? Do you know what you are saying?” “I am not happy about this either Ananta. But…it is the right thing to do.” “The right thing to do!” He spits out the words, turning away from her. Krishna purses her lips. She can see a vein pulsating at his temple. “And you have decided this?” he asks, still refusing to look at her. “All by yourself? I don’t get any say at all?” Krishna has known this was not going to be easy. Not after what she has told him today. But now she knows Ananta is never going to forgive her. “Ananta, please, don’t get angry…” “You don’t get to do this! Okay? You have no right!” He is livid. Speaking to the housekeeper has made Krishna realise how naïve she and Ananta were being. She has come to understand that what they were hoping for, is something that only works in movies, in fairy tales. Because in reality, the society never sees the good in anything. It always looks for the ne...

E arly morning sunrays streak in, making a beautiful pattern of prisms at the Goddess’s feet. The light catches on Krishna’s earrings throwing multiple little rainbows all around as she stands, her head bowed in prayer. She has never been overly religious, Krishna. The Gods or Goddesses, for her, have been the only ones with whom she could openly discuss her woes, her fears, draw motivation and gain hope from. So for her, prayer, is nothing but talking to the Goddess as if she stands opposite her. Listening to Krishna’s every word, with that serene smile on her face.   Thank you! She says now to the Goddess. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with. And my daughter too. Take care of her Mother. Since I am not there with her, now that she needs me most… Give her the strength, Mother. Be with her. And thank you Mother, for Ananta too. For giving me a friend in him like none other I have ever had. Thank you for smiling down on me from up there, real...

After three days of near continuous rain, today has dawned bright and glorious. The sun shines gently on the rain-washed, still dewy trees, and the birds sing a beautiful melody to welcome a brand new day. She sits on a rocker on the porch with a cup of coffee. In her lap is a book she has borrowed from the local library. But her mind is on the phone call she had with her daughter last night. Her confident, independent daughter, who is far, far away in another country. Her daughter, a doctor, who, at almost seven months pregnant, worries all the time about her mother. Which is why the girl has arranged to have a landline connection and a Wi-Fi connection installed here and sent her a smartphone. ‘I want to be able to talk to you anytime I want,’ her daughter says; ‘face to face’ .   Krishna is not much used to technology. But their calls make her daughter worry less; and in her present state, she wants her daughter to worry as less as possible. For what it’s worth, h...

The sound of the raindrops hitting the window panes in a quiet residential part of a small town is so different from that in a big city. That is the thought in her mind now, as she looks out of her kitchen window. The trees around her property are thick and dark as they stand drenched in the heavy downpour. It is the second day in a row that heavy rains continue to lash their area. She has heard in the morning on the radio that the rain will continue for a couple more days. It is good, she thinks, that she has just picked up her groceries, having moved in only a few days ago.       From the small gap in the trees, she can see across to the blue-walled house, just as she could see as a child. It is drenched too. The creepers outside its kitchen wall making a brave attempt at holding on through the heavy downpour. She can see its kitchen window clearly from here. How amazing, she thinks, how few things change over a period of time, although everything is chan...

The train stops. She looks around. It is a big station, large and open, nothing like the big city railway stations that she has seen. This station is surrounded by lush greenery as far as the eye can see. There is a chill in the air. And a sense of belonging. She breathes it in, deeply.  She walks towards the end of the platform to the foot-overbridge that will take her out of the station. A few taxis and auto rickshaws are lined up near the exit, and she hires one at random. The driver helps her stow her one bag near her feet, while she sits to one side of the wide seat, as if she is sharing space with someone. Because she is used to taking up only so much space – always in a corner, trying not to make her presence felt. Now as she thinks this, she moves a little towards the centre of the seat, as if to affirm to herself that she is now travelling all by herself, for the first time in her life. You wouldn’t really know it now, to look at her, but she is scared out of h...