By Bijay Raj Acharya
“Mohan, I hope you are regular in art class,” said Daddy, changing his dress after returning from office.
“Oh, why won’t? I am enjoying it beyond measures. But then, our classes are ending tomorrow; the school is closing from day after for a vacation,” I said.
“That’s fine. Your grandmother is coming here from the village day after tomorrow. She is a patient of high blood pressure, you know. You ought to take good care of her,” Daddy said.
On hearing that Grandmother was visiting, my heart leapt up. I was impatient to see her soon, so that I could sit on her lap and listen to her stories.
I recalled her placing me on her lap and feeding, when we had been to the village last.
“Mohan, what are you gawking at? What’s wrong with you?” Daddy asked.
“Nothing. Daddy, who is Grandmother coming with?” I asked.
“Sahila Dai, her neighbor too is coming to town; she will come with him.”
Until some years back, whole of our family stayed in a country home. After Daddy got a job in town, my parents and I moved here. Grandfather and Grandmother lived in the village. Almost every Friday, I went to our village home to meet my grandparents. Whenever it was Friday, they used to be waiting for me. If I was late any day, Grandmother used to be waiting for me at the porch, lighting a lantern. And when I stepped into the front-yard, she used to lift me up and kiss me on the face, saying, “You are a piece of my heart, born to keep me happy.”
My father is the only child of my grandparents. After Grandfather passed away, Grandmother was left alone in the village home. She denied coming to the town, because there were farms, cattle and goats to be taken care of. This time, she was running quite unwell. So, for a long time, she had been unwilling to visit us in town.
When I heard that she was visiting soon, I recalled some older incidents.
My grandmother loved me very much, perhaps because I was the only child of her single son. At times, I even thought, she loved me more than required. She loved me like a kid, even after I grew fairly up. Sometimes, her excessive love made me feel awkward in front of my friends.
When I moved to higher classes, the burden of study increased. So, I had gradually stopped going to the village home to meet Grandmother. Yet, I always remembered her.
On the day she was scheduled to arrive, I and Daddy went to the bus park to receive her. Soon the bus arrived and stopped at the park. All the passengers came out of it. My grandmother was preparing to come out at the end when she suddenly fell off the stairs at the bus door. I hurriedly picked her up. She paid a quick look on my face and shed tears. Then she said, “Oh, how tall my Mohan happened to have grown!”
Scenes from the past reappeared in my eyes. Those days, my grandmother, clad in red, used to appear quite healthy, graceful and agile. But this time, she was in white, and looked quite pale, as though there was no blood in her body. I saw in her a bending old woman, down with sickness.
The next morning, Grandmother was in the television room, watching folk dances. Suddenly, she stared on my face and smiled.
“Why are you smiling, Grandma?” I said.
Showing the kids dancing on the television, she said, “Look there, Mohan! In such cold winter days, why are these kids in such thin dresses? Poor things; they must be feeling very cold.”
We—grandmother and grandson—got into talking until we were called for lunch by Daddy. We walked into the kitchen. After moving into the town, we had started using spoons instead of hands for eating. Grandmother also tried to use a spoon, but could not. She looked on the face of Daddy. As though he understood her problem, Daddy said, “Aama, you can use your hands; you don’t need to use a spoon.”
Then, Grandmother peeked on the faces of Mother and me, and bent down on her plate, eating with her hand.
My eyes fell on the Grandmother’s plate. On seeing her smashing everything into a paste with her wrinkled hand and eating the same making a sound, I almost nauseated. I left the remaining food on my place and rushed into the bathroom to clean myself.
I rushed into my room and started preparing for school. Mother came to me and said, “Why did you leave your food unfinished? Are you unwell?”
“Seeing Grandmother smash all her food, my belly whirled,” I said.
“What’s that you are saying? How upset will Grandma be if she hears you? This is normal in such an old age, you know. From tomorrow, you take your meal before us,” Mother said in a faint voice.
Giving a look on her wrist watch, she said, “Oh, I’m getting late for office. Go to school well.” Having said this, she went away.
I enjoyed taking meals together with Daddy and Mummy. I was, however, asked to eat alone from another day. In a way, I was upset with Grandmother. I thought we could feed Grandmother first. This thought struck my mind.
Even as I was arranging books in my bag, Grandmother came in and said, “Are you preparing for school? I will accompany you.”
She tried to lift my bag. “Oh, how heavy it is! My grandson is having to lift such a heavy bag. Come on; I will carry it for you,” she said.
“You don’t need to, Grandma!”
I snatched the bag away from her hand. Then, I quickly put on my shoes and rushed out of the room.
I saw Grandmother walking up to the main door. From a distance, I also heard her saying, “Go well!”
While we were returning from school, Nirmal asked, “Is the old woman who waits for you at the door your grandmother?”
“Why are you bothered by my family issues? Do your work,” I said, quite annoyed.
“Oh, what a thin grandmother you have. It seems she is underfed. Is she sick?”
Her words drove me mad with anger. I got hold of his collars and said, “How my grandmother looks is none of your business. When a person gets old, he or she becomes thin and sick. You would know if there were elderlies in your family.”
Nirmal did not respond. Rather, he looked pathetic as though he were ready to cry. In fact, he did not have grandparents. It was, therefore, quite natural that he never received their love.
That day too, Grandmother was waiting for my return from school. I was not, however, upset with her. Instead, I got hold of her wrinkled hands and said, “Why are you out here, Grandma? You should have stayed indoors.”
Paying a quick look on my face, she said, “Mohan, staying in the village is better than staying in town.”
“Why so, Grandma?”
“In the village, people kept visiting me; we shared our joys and sorrows. Here in town, we live on the fifth floor. We cannot even see people moving around. There is no time to talk to the members of the same family too. I have lost your company even at mealtime. When children grow rich, the old parents are left alone…” she said, and took a long breath.
I thought, Grandmother was right. Yet, I uttered, “Grandma, we should not move out of home; we can get lost. I have grown up now; you don’t need to come out to the door to receive me. That makes me feel awkward in front of my friends.”
I went straight into my room, and started doing my homework. Even as I did my homework, I was thinking if my words hurt Grandmother. In the meantime, I heard her call me, “Mohan!”
“Yes, Grandma!”
“I want to take bath. It’s so cold you know; I am willing to bath in lukewarm water. Will you please open the hot-water tap in the bathroom?” Grandma said.
I went into the bathroom and switched on the hot water switch. Then I returned to my homework.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of something falling on the bathroom floor. Couldn’t it be Grandmother falling? I went running and knocked on the bathroom door. Grandma opened the door and asked with a smile, “What happened, my child?”
“I heard the sound of something falling.”
“Oh; it’s the bucket. Water from the tap is too hot; I was trying to mix some cold water and it fell off,” she said.
“I feared you had fallen.”
“Oh! How much my loving grandson cares for me!” said Grandma, praising me.
After she was done with bathing, I gave my Grandma some fruits in a plate and said, “Take some fruits Grandma; you must be hungry.”
She stared on my face. Tears simmered over both her eyes. Yet, her lips continued to display a gentle smile.
“My Mohan has grown up. He can now feed fruits to his grandmother,” she said, engulfing me in her arms and wiping her eyes with the fringe of her girdle cloth.
Since both my parents went out to work, Grandmother was the only person who loved and cared for me, and talked with me while I was at home. I didn’t like the way my friends made fun of my Grandmother. So, one day, I conjured courage and said, “Grandma, I want to ask something if you won’t mind.”
“When have I minded anything my grandson has asked? Come on.”
“Do not come to the door from tomorrow when I go to the school or return,” I said, quite reluctantly.
Turning her face grim, she said, “It is because of your love that I come up to the door to see off and receive you. If you feel bad about it, I won’t come.”
That very evening, when we were preparing to go to our respective rooms after dinner, Grandmother called every one of us to her room. Cold chill passed down my spine even as I wondered why she was calling us. I went into her room together with Mummy and Daddy.
“Why did you call us, Mother? Is there anything?” Daddy asked?
“Where could it have gone? I cannot find it anywhere,” she said, looking on the face of each one of us.
“What is it? What are you searching for?” Mother asked, apparently a little irritated.
“It was inside an envelope. I cannot remember where I placed it. I had kept it here,” she said, pointing at an old safe. Then she started rummaging the safe. Together with Grandmother, Mother also started searching for the envelope.
“Is not it this envelope you were searching for?” said Mother, handing over an old envelope to Grandmother.
“Oh my…I was afraid I had lost it,” Grandmother said, quite happy at finding the old thing.
“What is so invaluable inside it, Mother?” Daddy asked, quite curious.
“It does have something so invaluable; that’s why I had kept it so safe. Buhari, open and look inside,” she said with a smile, handing it over to Mother.
“Oh, it’s the picture taken at the hospital, when Mohan Bikram was born,” Mummy exclaimed with joy.
We all stared on the face of Grandmother. She was wiping her eyes with the fringe of her girdle cloth. She said, “This is the picture of the day I was happiest in all my life. There is nothing more valuable to me that this.”
My mind got stirred with her words. I was guilty, thinking what a bad behavior I was showing to my Grandmother who loved me the most in this world. I could not continue sitting there. I stood up abruptly and went into my room. I fell on my bed and started crying. I tried to conceal myself underneath the pillow. As my hot tears fell on the pillow, it got quite hot, and with time, cooled down.
***
Translated by Mahesh Paudyal
[Bijay Raj Acharya (b. 1977) is among those writers of children’s literature, whose total published titles outnumbers almost all of his contemporaries. Though he also writes haikus and biographies, his fame basically resets in fictions for children, both long and short ones. A few of his significant works are In Search of light, The New Village, The Rising of the Dimstars, Our Voice, Jhamak Kumiri, Shanti’s Autobiography Kanchha Kumar, Shyam Prashad, An encounter with Leopard, Pioneer Writer, Our Ideals, The Spiny Porcupine, Kokle Kyak Kokle, I Won’t go to School, Wonderful School, Two Voiceless girl of Sitlangpur, Budhani, Bijay Raj Acharya’s Children Stories, Melting Earth etc. Equally many are the works he has edited and translated.]