world seemed tired. The mango trees looked weary. The hedges were covered in a film of dust and even the colours of the crotons in the pots had turned dull and lifeless. Inside the house, Mummy and her sister wept, hugging each other as they wailed, ‘Mother, don’t leave us.’
Once when Sheela peeped, she saw them wiping each other’s tears until the next burst of anguish caused another stream of brine to flow. To look at them, one would never believe that these women were constantly warring, scoring points off each other all the time. But Sheela knew this was just for now. Their newly found sisterhood would soon come to an end.
When the green van stopped at the block of flats, Sheela knew Ammumma was in it. She saw them park the van in the slender shade of the ashoka tree. She waited for Ammumma to step out after the men. But there was no sign of her. For the first time, Sheela didn’t know what was happening.
‘Where is she?’ she wanted to scream. She felt Daddy touch her elbow. When she turned to him, he said quietly, ‘Go sit with her. She is in the van.’
A helpless creature, a giant mound of flesh smelling of urine and eau de cologne, lay in the back of the van. Its mouth was half-open, its lips cracked and dry. Its skin had creased into multiple folds of coarse parchment and its hair resembled fronds of steel wool. It lay there sucking in air with rasping breaths. Sheela looked at it and knew for
certain that her grandmother had already escaped her body. She was, Sheela knew, in some celestial realm, sitting on a four-poster cloud and decking herself with a thousand stars.
Nevertheless, this was Ammumma’s abandoned body and Sheela knew how much she would have hated to see herself as she was now. Once when Sheela was spending a summer with her, Ammumma had come back from a relative’s funeral looking tormented. Much later she had explained to Sheela the reason. ‘Lakshmi was such a well-groomed woman when she was alive. But you should have seen what they did to her today. They laid her out stark-naked on a banana leaf; every mole, vein and blemish exposed. Her hair was unkempt, her body looked unwashed and there wasn’t a grain of gold on her. How could they rob her of her dignity, of her grace? And I realized this is what I too will end up looking like when I’m dead. And there will be nothing I can do to prevent it.’
Sheela fanned the creature’s face, spooned water into its mouth and spoke to it. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to let the world see you like this.’ She plucked the wiry strands from her chin, carefully brushed the almost brittle hair on her head and braided it into a plait that she fixed in place with a glittering rubber band. Sheela rubbed her aunt’s foundation into her grandmother’s face, shoulders and chest. And dusted her aunt’s expensive talc just the way Ammumma liked to do it. On her face, neck, over her shoulders, and under her breasts that hung limply like empty pouches. When she was covered in a patina of fragrant chalky grey, Sheela rimmed her eyes with a kohl pencil and touched her eyebrows with feathery strokes in the manner her make-up book advocated. Sheela’s aunt had already confiscated all of Ammumma’s jewellery. So Sheela adorned her with costume jewellery. A crescent moon rested on her flaccid bosom. A waterfall of crystals cascaded from her ears.
When they came down, there were gasps of horror. ‘You dreadful girl,’ Mummy cried, ‘how could you?’
Sheela saw Daddy’s face tighten ominously and felt his fingers bite into the flesh of her upper arm in mute anger. Sheela knew they thought that she had committed sacrilege. She knew they thought that she had turned Ammumma into an obnoxious creature – a garish, dressed-up dying harlot. But Sheela knew Ammumma would have preferred this to looking diseased and decaying.
There was no time to clean her up. She had always wanted to die in her own bed and they had a long drive ahead before
Once when Sheela peeped, she saw them wiping each other’s tears until the next burst of anguish caused another stream of brine to flow. To look at them, one would never believe that these women were constantly warring, scoring points off each other all the time. But Sheela knew this was just for now. Their newly found sisterhood would soon come to an end.
When the green van stopped at the block of flats, Sheela knew Ammumma was in it. She saw them park the van in the slender shade of the ashoka tree. She waited for Ammumma to step out after the men. But there was no sign of her. For the first time, Sheela didn’t know what was happening.
‘Where is she?’ she wanted to scream. She felt Daddy touch her elbow. When she turned to him, he said quietly, ‘Go sit with her. She is in the van.’
A helpless creature, a giant mound of flesh smelling of urine and eau de cologne, lay in the back of the van. Its mouth was half-open, its lips cracked and dry. Its skin had creased into multiple folds of coarse parchment and its hair resembled fronds of steel wool. It lay there sucking in air with rasping breaths. Sheela looked at it and knew for
certain that her grandmother had already escaped her body. She was, Sheela knew, in some celestial realm, sitting on a four-poster cloud and decking herself with a thousand stars.
Nevertheless, this was Ammumma’s abandoned body and Sheela knew how much she would have hated to see herself as she was now. Once when Sheela was spending a summer with her, Ammumma had come back from a relative’s funeral looking tormented. Much later she had explained to Sheela the reason. ‘Lakshmi was such a well-groomed woman when she was alive. But you should have seen what they did to her today. They laid her out stark-naked on a banana leaf; every mole, vein and blemish exposed. Her hair was unkempt, her body looked unwashed and there wasn’t a grain of gold on her. How could they rob her of her dignity, of her grace? And I realized this is what I too will end up looking like when I’m dead. And there will be nothing I can do to prevent it.’
Sheela fanned the creature’s face, spooned water into its mouth and spoke to it. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to let the world see you like this.’ She plucked the wiry strands from her chin, carefully brushed the almost brittle hair on her head and braided it into a plait that she fixed in place with a glittering rubber band. Sheela rubbed her aunt’s foundation into her grandmother’s face, shoulders and chest. And dusted her aunt’s expensive talc just the way Ammumma liked to do it. On her face, neck, over her shoulders, and under her breasts that hung limply like empty pouches. When she was covered in a patina of fragrant chalky grey, Sheela rimmed her eyes with a kohl pencil and touched her eyebrows with feathery strokes in the manner her make-up book advocated. Sheela’s aunt had already confiscated all of Ammumma’s jewellery. So Sheela adorned her with costume jewellery. A crescent moon rested on her flaccid bosom. A waterfall of crystals cascaded from her ears.
When they came down, there were gasps of horror. ‘You dreadful girl,’ Mummy cried, ‘how could you?’
Sheela saw Daddy’s face tighten ominously and felt his fingers bite into the flesh of her upper arm in mute anger. Sheela knew they thought that she had committed sacrilege. She knew they thought that she had turned Ammumma into an obnoxious creature – a garish, dressed-up dying harlot. But Sheela knew Ammumma would have preferred this to looking diseased and decaying.
There was no time to clean her up. She had always wanted to die in her own bed and they had a long drive ahead before
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