A Travel Gift

I had a pleasant surprise when Avinash told me that we would be going to Mathura and Brindavan the next week. I almost jumped with joy.

Avinash was working as a Project Manager in a reputed software firm in Bengaluru. I was a house-maker with a one year old baby to take care of. The coming week Avinash was to attend an international seminar at New Delhi for a couple of days. So he planned to combine it with a family trip to Mathura and Brindavan.

I was delighted at the prospect of my long-cherished dream being fulfilled. Lord Sri Krishna had been my favourite god since my childhood. I grew up listening to the interesting stories of the naughty, chivalrous and the divine child. As also of the famous Brindavan, the place of His pastime – playing flute and dancing with gopikas. I had been nurturing a wish to visit Mathura and Brindavan since my school days. So I could not resist my urge to embrace Avinash and kiss him for his thoughtfulness.

The D-day arrived. We flew in to New Delhi that week end, and lodged in a star hotel in Pusa where our accommodation was arranged by the organisers of the seminar. Even as Avinash was busy the next two days with the seminar where he presented a research paper, I strolled out with the baby. Hailing a cab, I visited the famous Qutub Minar, The Tombs, Amar Jawan Memorial at the India Gate, the sun dial at Jantar Mantar, Lodhi Gardens, etc. There were many visitors – both Indian and foreign – giving me company.

On the 3rd day, with the seminar coming to an end, we booked a car to go to Mathura. It was evening by the time we reached Mathura. My heart was filled with joy as we drove into the town. We straight went to the temple. The very sight of the temple thrilled me. Its imposing structure was simply fascinating. There I was. At last!

Climbing up the stairs, we joined the long line of devotees passing through the security check. As we entered the temple, a wave of happiness surged through me.

We stood before the Lord with folded hands and offered prayers. I did not forget to thank Him for making my dream come true. As I adored the marble idols of Krishna and Radha, a deep sense of devotion swept me, making me forget myself.

After making offerings to the Lord and receiving theerth (the holy water) and prasad, we squatted in front of the Lord, lost in the spiritual atmosphere. After a while we went round the temple complex admiring its beauty. When it was time to leave, I reluctantly followed Avinash out.

It was 8 p.m. and we made some shopping near the temple. Thereafter we had dinner at a hotel. After dinner, we left for Brindavan, where we planned to make the night halt.

It was 11 past when we reached Brindavan. My excitement notwithstanding, we were tired and the child was asleep. We drove straight to a hotel and checked in.

The next morning, after finishing the breakfast, we ventured out. As we walked through the town, I tried to imagine and relate to the times when Lord Krishna had supposedly spent his days there. The lovely garden with its modern looks was full of visitors. As we went round, I tried to enliven the divine moments when Krishna played there and danced with gopikas. I could imagine the holy cows surrounding Him with their heads raising, fondly listening to the divine music. I even felt as though I were hearing His melodious flute. My enchantment with Krishna and my passion for the place induced me to look for the possible traces of His footprints everywhere, thus evoking teasing by Avinash.

We spent the day in the garden and by going round the town. My happiness, though, was short-lived. For, I was very much disheartened and disturbed at what I saw.

I came across an alarming number of widowed women – both young and old – in the streets! They looked very much undernourished, sick and presented a pathetic appearance. They were scantily clad, and in soiled white saris. Their lives seemed miserable.

On enquiry we learnt that they were all destitute, abandoned mercilessly by their own families after they were widowed. The majority of them were said to hail from a particular eastern State. With no one to care for, they begged in the streets. They had no shelter, and slept on the pavements or in the garden. Besides hunger, diseases and the seasonal cold wave too added to their woes claiming many lives.

Some charity organisations came forward to provide succour to these hapless women, and set up Homes. The Homes were meant to provide food and shelter, and even health care. However, apart from being inadequate, there were complaints of poor maintenance, mismanagement, ill-treatment and exploitation of the inmates, etc. The sick were neglected, and the bodies of those died uncharitably thrown into the river. With the number of such unfortunate widows abandoned there increasing year after year, many became shelterless and were found loitering in the streets. The local government did precious little for the welfare of these women…

I was very much upset at the miserable plight of these women. Anger surged through me at their family members for being so unkind and insensitive. My ecstasy at visiting the legendary town had died down.

Avinash and I talked to some of the women and learnt about their woes. I was unable to assimilate the fact that the near and the dear could be as cruel and inhuman as to wilfully abandon them in that manner.

We wanted to make our own humble contribution for the welfare of these widows. After enquiry we found an NGO said to be genuinely taking care of some of these women, and gave a donation.

While returning to the hotel, I came across a most pitiable plight. A woman in her mid-sixties and apparently seriously ill, was lying on the roadside in a semi-conscious state. Instantly my feet led me there.

Staring at her, I suddenly felt as if it were a familiar face…..

2

Hailing from a village near Madurai, I was married to Avinash. He was then working at Chennai as a Software Engineer. After the marriage I had accompanied him to Chennai as a new bride. We lived in a rented flat in a residential complex at Gandhinagar in Adyar as it was nearer to Avinash’s office which was located at Taramani. A naïve, village girl, I was not exposed to the city life before. So I was a little apprehensive. Being a home maker, I remained at home cooking and keeping the house in order. I mostly shut myself in during the day. As I would be alone, Avinash would come home for lunch, instead of taking the lunch box. In the evenings, after he returned home, we would sit together sipping coffee and chatting…or go out sometimes.

I was not very good at cooking, for at my parents’ house, my grandmother did all the cooking, and would not allow me into the kitchen – her exclusive domain – except occasionally. So, I had some problem with preparation of curries. They were either more salty or more hot, and sometimes, both. It should be told to the credit of Avinash that he never scolded me on such occasions. He would only tease me.

Annapurna was residing in our adjoining flat, with her son. In her early sixties, she was soft-spoken with gentle manners. Her son, Parameswaran, was having a ready-made garment shop in T. Nagar, while his wife, Kamala, worked as a Vice-Principal in a private school in Mylapore. Their 10 year-old son was studying in V class in the same school. Annapurna did all the cooking and the household work single-handedly. She was also known to help others in the complex.

After finishing her work, Annapurna would come to my flat and chat with me. She would try to drive away my loneliness, and dispel the apprehensions of the new environs, and comfort me. On hearing about my difficulty with cooking, she had taught me how to cook different dishes tastefully. She would also counsel me as to how to conduct myself for a happy married life. She would remind me of my own mother, with her love and affection. She treated me like her own daughter. Incidentally she did not have a daughter. Sometimes when Avinash went on official tours, she would give me company in the nights, lest I might get frightened to be alone. In Annapurna’s company, I was able to overcome my homesickness.

Kamala, her daughter-in-law, was a different lady, though. She would not mingle with anyone. She seemed to be too reserved and not so friendly by nature.

Annapurna’s husband was a farmer and they lived in a village near Thanjavur. He had died a couple of years back. Being their only child, Parameswaran wanted to take away his mother to Chennai. Annapurna was not quite willing to leave the village where the sweet memories of her late husband were abundant. She wanted to die where husband had died. But even the neighbours and the village elders had counselled her to go with her son, as living there alone was not advisable in her advancing age. Finally she had to yield and accompany her son to Chennai. Parameswaran had disposed of the lands and the ancestral house in the village.

Though initially Kamala treated her mother-in-law properly, her true colours started to surface as the days passed. She had dispensed with the servant maid and put the entire burden of domestic chorus, including cooking, on the old lady. Annapurna willingly did all the work. Yet, the daughter-in-law started ill-treating her for no apparent reason. Parameswaran was too busy with his business that he left home in the morning and returned late in the night. So he was not aware of what was going on at the home front. Nor would Annapurna complain anytime to him lest his mental peace be disturbed.

Now with Kamala misbehaving with Annapurna openly, Parameswaran came to know of it. Initially he tried to intervene and admonish his wife. This resulted in frequent quarrels between the couple. So his experience had taught him to be a mute witness. In spite of all this, Annapurna never betrayed her sufferings to anyone - not even to me. I became aware of her pitiable plight quite accidentally, as I once happened to overhear some of the ladies in the complex discussing it. As her health appeared to deteriorate, I had once commented about it. She had just smiled, attributing it to her advancing age.

When I became pregnant, Annapurna was delighted at the news and kissed me fondly. She would bring special dishes and force me to eat. She would impel me to divulge what I wished to eat. I should not hold back my wishes from getting fulfilled during the pregnancy so that the child would be borne healthy, she would say. She would advise me not to do any hard work. Tears would roll down my cheeks at her love and affection, and the motherly care bestowed on me.

When my pregnancy was 3 month old, Avinash had got a job at Bengaluru, and we had to leave Chennai suddenly. This had saddened Annapurna very much. She wanted to play with my child when borne, and even told me that she would take care of the child’s needs. She went on advising me, till the day of my departure, of the ‘dos and don’ts’ during the pregnancy and thereafter in taking care of the child. I too felt very sad and disappointed at having to leave such a good and kind woman. We both wept while parting, to the amusement of the others.

#

We hardly got settled in Bengaluru when my parents wanted to take me to my native village for the delivery. Avinash was not willing to send me there saying that Bengaluru had best medical facilities. But on the insistence of my parents, he had agreed to send me there for a while on the condition that I should be back after seemantham, the ceremony held at the 6th month. I was in a dilemma. Being the first-time pregnancy, I would like to be under the loving care of my mother. But, at the same time, I was averse to be away from Avinash for long. I remembered Annapurna and her motherly care, and wished I continued at Chennai at least till the delivery.

On completion of 9 months, I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy female child in a Bengaluru hospital. My parents and the in-laws were by my side at the time. After I got discharged from the hospital, my parents took me and the child to their home. Avinash was not too happy at my leaving, but his parents prevailed on him.

I was back in Bengaluru after the 3rd month. In the meanwhile, the naming ceremony for the baby was held, which Avinash and his parents attended.

With managing the child, the time seemed to fly away like a race horse for me and Avinash. The baby, whom we named Swetha, became everything in our lives. Even as I cuddled and kissed Swetha, I remembered Annapurna. In my heart of hearts, I longed to visit Chennai and show my daughter to her. Once, after leaving Chennai, I could talk to her over her son’s cell phone. Thereafter I lost contact.

Swetha was now one year old. One day Avinash said that he would be going to Chennai for a day for some project discussions at the IIT. I wanted to grab the opportunity. I urged him to take along so that I could meet Annapurna and show my little one to her. Luckily he had agreed.

From the Meenambakkam airport we drove straight to the IIT campus on the Guindy road and lodged in its guest house. The next day when Avinash was busy with his official work, I took a cab and went to Gandhinagar.

There was no apparent change in the residential complex. I found the Parameswaran’s flat locked. I knocked at the neighbour’s door to enquire. A middle-aged woman opened the door. They had moved into the flat which was vacated by us. As I introduced myself, she invited me in with a friendly smile. The Paramteswarans were out of station, she said. Then I enquired how Annapurna was – whether she was keeping good health.

What she told me had stunned me. Annapurna was no more! She went to Kasi (Varanasi) and died there!!

I was nonplussed... Annapurna was yearning to visit Kasi since long, I suddenly recollected. She would urge her son, every now and then, to take her there so that she could have darshan of Lord Vishwanath, before she breathed her last. Notwithstanding Parameswaran’s promise to fulfil her wish, the trip did not take place as he was always busy. Annapurna often talked to me about her craving to visit Kasi, and at times expressed her apprehensions at dying before fulfilling her long cherished wish.

According to the neighbouring lady, as her health was deteriorating, Annapurna started pressing her son about the visit to Kasi. So, 6 months back Parameswaran and his wife took her there. They had left their son with a relative as his examinations were round the corner.

After a week the couple returned alone! Kamala had told everybody that after having darshan of the Lord, her mother-in-law was suddenly taken ill and died even before the medical assistance could arrive! Though sad at her sudden demise, the couple was immensely satisfied at fulfilling the last wish of the old lady, Kamala had said wiping off her tears. She also added that her mother-in-law was very fortunate to die at the feet of Lord Vishwanath!

I became extremely sad. It came as a shocker to me as it was the last thing I could imagine. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Silence pervaded us for a while. ‘You will give birth to a beautiful child, and I would be playing with it…’ Annapurna’s words were ringing in my ears.

I pretended to sip the coffee the good lady had offered me. Leaving the half-emptied cup on the teapoy, I rose with a heavy heart. I thanked the lady and walked out, thoroughly upset.

3

Now the old woman looked like Annapurna. But, then, how could a dead woman come alive…!?

Handing the baby to Avinash, I leaned over the woman, and kept my ear close to her mouth as she seemed to mumble something. She was asking for paani (water). I immediately poured water in her mouth from my bottle. Whoever she was, she was an old woman needing help and immediate medical attention, I told myself. I urged Avinash to muster some help to shift her to a hospital.

Even as the woman lay in the intensive care unit in the hospital, a debate was going on in my mind as to whether she could be Parameswaran’s mother, Annapurna…or, her look-alike!

“It’s said that there would be 7 look-alikes of a person in the world. Perhaps she is one of those resembling your Annapurna” said Avinash. Yet, I was unable to believe that she was not Annapurna herself.

I prevailed on Avinash to extend our stay there till she regained her consciousness. We paid the hospital charges in advance as demanded.

Meanwhile we tried to gather as much information as possible about the woman… A few months ago, the old woman was found loitering in the streets there – lost and weeping. She did not understand Hindi. She said that she had lost her people. As nobody turned up for her even after a week, it became apparent that she was abandoned there by her relatives, as was the case with most of the widowed women found there.

Some volunteers took pity and admitted her to a Home there. She was disciplined and worked hard. She hardly spoke with anyone and divulged any information about her family. She would seem to be lost in her own thoughts, oblivious of her surroundings. She wept silently at nights.

Her health had deteriorated and recently she fell seriously ill. She was no longer in a position to do any work. Considering her a liability, and unwilling to spend on her medical treatment, the Home had driven the hapless woman out. She was on the streets ever since. She would not beg anyone, but if someone was kind enough to offer her food, she would humbly accept. She slept on the pavement… I felt immensely sad. And I was still unable to accept that she was not Annapurna.

On the 3rd day, we received a call from the hospital saying that the woman had regained her consciousness. We rushed there.

She was now shifted to the ward. She was looking very week, al beit much better than when we had found her 3 days ago. As the nursing sister told her that the people, who had admitted her in the hospital, had come, she slowly opened her eyes.

I looked at her face eagerly. She stared at me for a while, as her eyes closely examined my face. Then there was a glimmer of light in her eyes. And a flicker of apparent recognition. Followed by a shade of disbelief in her face.

Holding her hand, I greeted her with a comforting smile.

“Nee…nee..Minakshi…dhaanee…?” She asked me in a feeble voice.

My joy knew no bounds. Yes, my intuition was not wrong. She was none other than Annapurna!… Tears welled up in my eyes suddenly.

“Annapurna auntie…” I let out an excited cry, like a small child…even as Avinash looked bewildered.

I grabbed her with both my hands and hugged her affectionately.

As she started caressing my head with her shaky, frail hand, we both wept…

2 days later, Annapurna was discharged from the hospital, and we brought her to the hotel where stayed. She was now looking much better. She was happy to see Swetha and kissed her fondly.

I slowly broached the subject of her being there…in that strange place.

She closed her eyes for a moment as though recollecting the events and seemed to shudder at the nightmarish experience. The traces of trauma were quite visible on her wrinkled, pale face. She looked too old for her age. She opened her eyes, and staring into the oblivion as if was in a trance, started narrating what had happened…

After I had left Chennai for Bengaluru, things at home did not go well for Annapurna. She would often fall ill inviting rebuke and abuse from her daughter-in-law, for not being able to do the entire domestic work as before. Considering her to be a liability, Kamala wanted to get rid of her, somehow. There ensued frequent fights between the couple over the matter.

A few months ago, Parameswaran had suddenly proposed to take his mother to Kasi. Annapurna’s joy knew no bounds at the prospect of visiting the place at last. One day she and the couple ventured out on the pilgrimage. They travelled by flight. After having darshan of Lord Vishwanath and His consort in Kasi and spending a couple of days there, they went to Mathura. Annapurna was ecstatic. From Mathura they proceeded to Brindavan. They were to spend a couple of days there, Annapurna was told. But, alas, when she woke up on the morning of the very first day, her son and the daughter-in-law had disappeared into thin air. Scared, she tried to look for them everywhere. The hotel staff told her that her people had paid off the bill and left. They asked her to vacate the room. Shocked as she was, she did not know where to go. It was only after being stranded in the streets that the truth had dawned on her – the truth of being deliberately dumped there by her son! She wept inconsolably…

Tears rolling down my cheeks, I tried to console and comfort Annapurna. It was still unbelievable that her son – her only child – could do it! I could never imagine in my wildest thoughts that such a cruel fate was awaiting the kind lady.

Avinash and I deliberated over the matter of Annapurna’s rehabilitation. We did not have the heart to leave her to her own fate again. Avinash suggested sending her to an old-age Home in Benguluru. He even suggested filing of a criminal case against her son and the daughter-in-law for wilfully deserting and causing her immeasurable misery and trauma.

But I was not inclined to favour any of the suggestions. I came to a firm decision and told him about it. Surprised though, he did not say ‘no’. I thanked him and embraced him with joy.

Annapurna might be ‘dead’ to her own family…but, a new member was added to our family now!

“So, she is your travel gift, eh?” teased Avinash, as I sported a happy smile.

Soon we were on our way back to Bengaluru along with Annapurna to whom Swetha was now got attached. As the saying goes, ‘one man’s loss is another man’s gain’, after all!