Closure

I ran, as fast as my twelve-year-old legs could take me, splashing through puddles to the farmhouse in the distance.

I was racing with my cousins. The first one would choose the TV program later. I could see my Mom, Aunt Seema, and Grandma chatting in the kitchen, the evening colours of the Sun seeping in.

“Nikki!” Mom opened the door, and pointed to my muddy legs, “Chalo, go take a bath. And take Mahi and Harsh too!”

I looked behind to see a small Mahi and panting Harsh trudging behind.

It was summer… And we were at Grandpa’s house. Well, it was Grandma’s now that he died of tubercul-culosis last year. We came here every summer. Aunt Seema was Mom’s sister.

Mahi, Harsh, and I raced to the bathroom. We fought over the coveted shiny bucket and Mahi sulked like the eight-year-old baby she was. Harsh smacked my back and I punched him… But that was it. Our mothers never intervened in our fights and let us resolve them on our own.

I put on pyjamas and went downstairs. The three of us were greeted with stuffed paneer parathas and spicy chutney. I glared at my plate. Parathas were Grandpa’s favourite. Everybody knew that.

Yet, here everyone was, eating two parathas, and adding dollops of chutney onto their plates, joking as if nothing happened. I could hardly taste my paratha and a sick feeling spread through my body thinking about Grandpa.

Every summer, we had a fixed routine with Grandpa. That was the very reason I did not want to come this year. Grandpa wasn’t here.

Mom said that if I didn’t come Grandma would be sad and lonely. Besides, I needed to be the big sister to my cousins… This summer was unlike the others. We worked at the farm and read books. TV time was scheduled before bed. We played cards instead of chess…

Grandpa taught us how to play chess on his rosewood chess set. He even managed to teach baby Mahi and insufferable Harsh. We would spend afternoons in the breezy veranda taking turns playing chess with Grandpa. Grandma would bring in small cups of masala chai and Bournvita between games and would cheer us on.
I bragged that I was the only one who ever managed to checkmate Grandpa in a game, and he would ruffle my short black bob and would call me his champ.

Instinctively, I touched my short black bob. It was growing longer now. Grandpa liked my hair the way I liked it. He was cool that way. His head was covered with white locks which Mahi would comb. He had a walrus moustache, intelligent eyes, and a tall frame. He liked to read historical fiction and loved taking nature trails. Grandpa had a pipe and he did read newspapers… But he spent most of his time with us children. If we ever got bored of chess, then he’d watch the scariest Hollywood films with us about haunted dolls, possessed souls, and spirits. Mahi and Harsh would cuddle up to him while I would watch the movie intently, not flinching during the jump scares.

We all had so many memories with Grandpa… And Grandma had them tucked away in the attic! All his clothes, his accessories, our chess set, everything was in the attic. The attic… An idea sprung to my head! I could make a trip to the attic and search for Grandpa’s chess set… I just wanted to feel it… If I told Mom, or anybody they would shush me for being so demanding. But I needed to see that chess set. To play with it, alone… To remind me that Grandpa was real and not just my imagination.

I fingered the last of my chutney and padded upstairs to the attic.

It was unlocked and dark. I stepped in, barefoot, pressing my hands for the switch. A white bulb danced and then shone still. The attic was musty and bare. A stack of yellow newspapers and crumbling files stood next to a tower of cardboard boxes. On the other side, a column of trunks was neatly arranged. Apart from these, there was a dusty couch, three broken chairs, and a big round basket.

I peered into the basket to find Grandpa’s woollen chocolatey scarf we would play with, his mittens that Harsh drew on with a whitener, his pipe, and oh so much more. Overwhelmed, a tear trickled down my cheek. I dug further, discarding his novels, sky blue comb, and other assortments.

I felt it. I felt the smooth surface of the rosewood chess chest we played… Eagerly, I laid it on the floor. I opened the set, and arranged the chess pieces on the checkered board, the way Grandpa had taught us to. Casually I moved a white pawn in the corner two spaces ahead.

I could hear Grandpa’s voice in my head, ‘Now, that was a foolish move, champ!’

I chuckled… And before I could slump back into my thoughts, I heard Harsh and Mahi close by. Maybe at the bottom of the flight of stairs… No. No. No. They couldn’t know that I was here… They would ruin Grandpa’s stuff. They had no regard for him anyway.

I left the arrangement on the floor, not having a minute to spare, and switching off the light, I rushed downstairs.

As I predicted they were searching for me at the bottom of the stairs, holding a pack of Uno.

“Uno?” Mahi asked, nodding to the red cards falling out of her small palm.

“Why were you in the attic?” Harsh raised his eyebrows.

“Something Grandma wanted me to do…” I mumbled foolishly and then brushing Harsh, I walked away.

The next day, I badly wanted to go to the attic again and spend some time there. Alone. However, Mom and Aunt Seema decided to take us to a movie and then to shop. I had to then help Grandma with chores. It was 8 pm when I was able to sneak into the attic. Everything was the same.

Except…

A black pawn had moved two places forward. I rubbed my eyes. How was it possible? Nobody used the attic in the summer. It was out-of-bounds for us three since it was high up and easy to get stuck in…

I contemplated the odds. Then, then was it Grandpa? A toothy smile splayed wide across my face. Grandpa was trying to play chess with me! He hadn’t forgotten his champ! I sat cross-legged at my side, regretting my first move. I moved another pawn and waited for Grandpa to play. Nothing happened for the next ten minutes.

Perhaps, he required me to go out and come back the next day! I left the attic, pleased with my finding. Grandpa was there with me. I hugged my secret, too selfish to share it.

Harsh and Mahi were busy giggling when they saw my surly face sprout into a smile.

Mom and Aunt Seema took us to fairs, Chinese restaurants, movies, parks, and ice-cream shops. I hated it all. It was one thing to go out to eat dinner once in a while, and another to go out to eat all the time. It didn’t make sense. Grandma rarely made food at home now, and I ached for her Gajar ka Halwa… No restaurant could get it right.

Grandpa loved home food… Oh, Grandpa… Things would be so different if he were alive… These people acted happy and full of cheer. Mahi and Harsh seemed glad to play cards, forgetting that just a summer ago they had fought to play chess. Mom and Aunt Seema shopped a lot and drank less chai. It was as if they were dishonouring his memory. I became sour with them and talked little. I was straight-up angry.

If I were them, I’d drink a cup of chai every day, not for me, but for the madness to go away.

That week I returned to play chess with Grandpa every evening. He’d play one move every day, but his game was becoming lousy, as I had already killed off his knight.

I prided on the fact that Grandpa revealed himself to me. He must’ve felt my loneliness, and used this ingenious way to communicate with me. My, I was clever!

Grandpa had come back as a spirit! In the attic! I knew, that it was the time to tell Mom.

It was late afternoon. Mom was curled up on the sofa scrolling through her mobile. Aunt Seema was reading a book. Grandma was leafing through a cookbook. Mahi and Harsh were loafing about somewhere… I hadn’t seen them…

“Mom!” I urged, pulling on her sleeve, “You need to come to the attic!”

“Huh?” Mom grimaced, “Why beta?”

“There’s Grandpa’s spirit!” I did a messy explanation, “He plays chess with me every day.”

Aunt Seema’s sharp ears caught a part of our conversation.

“Grandpa’s spirit in the attic, you say?” She leaned towards us, “Tell me also na.”

“Please come… Please…” I begged, my voice cracking, looking straight at Mom.

My Mom huffed and got up. Aunt Seema had a twinkle in her eyes as she insisted that Grandma come too. I led the three adults to my lair above. I could hear a scuffle inside the attic as we tiptoed upstairs.

“It’s a thief!” Grandma whispered.

It wasn’t a thief. It had to be Grandpa… This time Mom, Aunt Seema, and Grandma could see him for themselves!

Giddy, I opened the attic door. The light was already on.

I could see Mahi and Harsh bent over the chessboard discussing the move Grandpa’s side should make.

Harsh saw me and the adults behind me and got up his face red. Mahi squealed when she saw me and hid behind her elder brother.
My cousins had pranked me into thinking that it was Grandpa.

“Sweetie…” My Mom was trying hard not to laugh, “They tricked you good! Now pack up the chessboard and come down…”

“No.” My body was shaking, but my voice was firm, “The trick was cruel. I thought it was Grandpa.”

“I’ll have a word with them-” Aunt Seema spoke, but I cut her.

“- No, you all don’t get it. GRANDPA IS NOT GONE. He can’t just leave me. And all of you pretend like he never existed. We go out consistently, and never watch scary movies or play chess. Grandpa wouldn’t have wanted us to quit!”

Harsh was weeping, and Grandma sobbed.

I was on a roll, “You guys don’t even talk about him, and Mahi and Harsh haven’t talked about chess all summer… It’s like… It’s like you forgot about him…”

My Mom took me in her arms, and comforted me, “We haven’t forgotten about him. Nobody has. It’s just so painful to see his things around the house when he isn’t there to use them. It’s painful to talk about him when all we can do is bring back old memories and not new ones. It is painful, beta, I know. But just because he died, doesn’t mean we stop living.”

I cracked a sob. I missed him.

“We’ll talk about him. We’ll have chai together. We’ll watch scary movies. We’ll play chess… He’d want us to carry this forward.” Mom sniffed and patted my head.

I released myself from her embrace. Mahi and Harsh muttered an apology and hugged me.

“We miss Grandpa too…” Harsh told me.

The adults were looking at me teary-eyed. They sat down on the attic floor and pulled the basket towards themselves.

That afternoon, as cliché, as it sounds, we all didn’t get what we wanted… But we got what we needed. Closure.