About 3 months ago new neighbours moved into the ground floor apartment of our building. A divorced lady in her 50’s, her unmarried elder brother and her old, ailing mother. Not the happiest trilogy – you will agree. And truly so. There’s always and air of gloom around their house. A stale smell of sickness always emanates from their home. Sometimes the smell of urine is overpowering. For me it is painful to even wait outside their door for the lift to arrive. I always run up the stairs. Predictably the lady always looks miserable. Her extremely sad eyes follow every activity with an indefinable longing. Like she wished we could swap places with her. Those long, unblinking, open stares make me uncomfortable. When I’m with my daughter she eyes us so longingly, that I want to hide my little one. Those eyes scare me. It’s like the third eye of Shiva. But to be honest there is no malice in those eyes. Just an unfathomable ocean of sadness.
Like every year this year too Navrathi was a grand occasion at home. We display traditional dolls (will write a DP on that soon) and call people over for haldi-kumkum. It’s a whirlwind 10 days. But I do love it so! Every evening our home is filled with the spiritual fragrance of camphor, the aroma of seasoned lentils (that’s the Prasad each evening), the rustle of silk sari’s, the gentle tinkling of bangles, the laughter of ladies meeting after ages, the excited chatter of kids…its really the happiest time of the year for me!
My daughter and I invited everyone in the neighbourhood. But this one lady – we did not. My daughter refused to enter their home. And I too was not keen to enter the sickness and sadness filled home. We guiltily avoided inviting her. She watched with those sad eyes as happy, laughing people entered our home. She was never inside her home. Always loitering outside. And always watching. Sometimes you don’t see her – but suddenly you feel those eyes watching and then you turn and she is there. Eerie!
Mom – the one person I know who believes in the eternal goodness in humanity – decided it was positively rude to not invite the lady. So she went and invited her. The lady was elated. She promised to visit us the next morning (not evening – when the crowd generally comes, mind you). The next morning was our day off (on account of Saraswati Pooja) – so things were a bit slow at home. The doorbell rang at 10 am and I – in my fading pyjamas and tattered t-shirt – opened the door to find the lady standing there – dressed in a beautiful purple silk sari. I was so surprised to see her! I just gawked. (Jeez what a rude thing to do!). Finally I came to my senses and invited her inside. She swished inside – bringing with her the smell of moth balls. I knew at once that this pretty sari had not been worn in a long long time.
Mom, also in her nightdress – came sheepishly – and sat down to entertain the er…(unwanted?) guest. The lady spoke and spoke and spoke. She narrated her entire life story to mom! While we just waited for her to go because the smell of moth balls was making us uneasy.
She is a divorcee with 2 daughters. Both her daughters as studying and are in a hostel. Her mother is terminally ill and they are just waiting for the inevitable to happen. In the meanwhile they are trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. “Sometimes she even urinates on the bed” I heard the lady say. Ah yes that explains the smell! They cannot afford to appoint a nurse so this lady takes care of the ailing old woman. My heart was filled with guilt instantly – its really the most painful thing to look after a bedridden person. I’m sure we can all imagine how difficult it must be. I tried to put myself in her place. If I were ever put in her position – would I also hunger for the little joys in life? Like running off for an ice cream. Or going to the beach for a drive? Going off to a restaurant because I don’t feel like cooking. Or just a happy walk in the park. All those things that I now do and take for granted. Those are things she cannot do. Because she is trapped at home with an ailing mother.
She missed her daughters terribly, she said. Suddenly whisked out two Lotus flowers and some chocolates for my daughter. We sheepishly stepped into her moth-smelling aura and accepted it with politeness.
Finally, she left. For a while, the smell of moth balls lingered and our home was filled with sadness…
And I came to one big conclusion about life. There really is no greener pasture on the other side. We simply have to make the pasture green wherever we are.
