A letter- Short story

Dhanasekar entered his cubicle sharply at 9:00 a.m. He usually takes five minutes to settle down and allow his sweat to evaporate and contribute his part for the increase in atmospheric humidity which is already high. It is not so sure whether hot sun is merciless in Chennai alone. Even in morning, sun bakes humans like anything. But, even if sun is merciful and cool in the morning, Dhanasekar any way would have sweat the same. Driving his Yamaha from mambalam to ambattur is indeed long for a forty years old young man. Dhanasekar washed his face and dirtied the tidy white towel in the hanger. He saw his face in the mirror and smiled himself. It seems as if Dhanasekar is quite relaxed and happy that day. Yes, even chandrasekar, his colleague asked, “What dhana seems quite happy today. Have you won any bulk orders for our company”? Dhanasekar smiled for the question and followed, “no, chandru, today I feel relaxed, and now onwards, I will be quite relaxed always. I have admitted my old mother in ‘mathura old age home’. I find it very difficult to manage her as my wife sheela too is employed. My children couldn’t cope with their granny. Sheela also feel very uncomfortable. Mother is very good, but she couldn’t adjust with the current society. She creates lot of problem everyday in apartments, neighbours and with all of us. I don’t want to develop hatred further. I think she will be happy there. To my surprise, my mother looked happy to go there. I believe it is be the best option.”

If someone says, dhanasekar and sheela are made for each other; I will be the first person to second that. It is real wonder whether they have any telepathy communication; yes! Sheela also shares same conversation with her friend in A.G.’s office, Nungampakkam. Sheela was telling, “Oh! God, my husband at least now has acted intelligently which is an aberration from his awkwardness. My mother in law spoils all my children’s mind. And at last, we found the solution for her.”

The personality who dominates the discussion in two offices simultaneously was relaxing in hall no. 102 which is allotted to her in “mathura old age home”. A service lady came to her with a register, “who is newly joined Paarvathi amma?” The old lady, arranging her clothes in the shelf, trying to accommodate herself to the new place, turned back and replied, “ya here”. The service lady collected the details of Paarvathi amma like her food, health records, dress, interests, and requirements. The service lady was with a blue saree and white blouse which is supposed to be the uniform of the old age home. Paarvathi amma replied very politely to the lady and then enquired about the service lady’s family and other details. When Mary, the service lady told that her son is in fifth standard, Paarvathi amma exclaimed and expressed her joy like a kid saying that her grandson is also in fifth standard. Both of them started their conversation which went on till lunch. By the time, Paarvathi amma gathered enough information about Mary that no one will wonder if Paarvathi amma writes Mary’s biography. Paarvathi amma is actually aged, but her activities and enthusiasm makes others feel that it is actually a youth soul in an old body. Whatever others say or feel, Paarvathi amma is the same throughout.

Paarvathi amma’s absence gave a great ambience in door no. 5 of ‘sankara apartments’, mambalam. Everyone can understand that it can be nothing other than Dhanasekar’s address. Dhanasekar, sheela and their children, ramya and Ramu went to dine outside. They entered home at 8:00 p.m and Dhanasekar entered the study room to check mail in his laptop. Beneath his laptop was an envelope whose ends are dirty and is improperly pasted. He took the envelope. Whoever has pasted it, had applied glue in excess. The envelope stuck to the cardboard box and required little pull of Dhanasekar to make it available in his hand. Puzzled Dhanasekar opened and found a letter inside it. The letter was written in an unbleached paper which he had bought for rough work. The stinking blue ink and the poor handwriting which hosted all possible vibrations in its trajectory revealed Dhanasekar that it is Paarvathi amma’s letter. Little amused as well as irritated, Dhanasekar took it. The letter follows.

“

My dear Dhannu,

It’s long since I have talked to you. You have become so busy that you rarely get time. I understand your responsibility and am little bit proud of it thinking that my dhannu have become a great man.

When you read this, I may be comfortably placed and enjoying my new home, “mathura old age home”, as you had wished. I’m sure that you wanted me to be very comfortable and hence have decided like this. I appreciate your love for me dear dhannu, but in this occasion I wish to tell you that nothing can be so soothing for me than seeing your face daily. I’m not bored for the past forty years in seeing you and will never be bored ever.

I love you so much dear son, and at any point of time my little heart cannot accept your defeat. My dream always is “one day dhannu will become a great man and half of the world will be his fans.”

I don’t know whether it is true, but sheela told me that you are very unhappy with me and you want to get rid of me. Oh dhannu, I can spare anything for you; but dear, I never can and want to see you upset. I want you to smile always. You look smarter when you smile.

Do you remember dhannu, when you were eight years old; next street geetha came with her son to complain that you have hit him. I saw you. Your eyes were watery and lips thick. Your rosy cheeks turned red; I understood the incident and didn’t want to upset you. I asked sorry to geetha and settled down the issue. Then I took you to park and made you clear that I’m always there to love you. Later I made you join basketball coaching in the nearby club to avoid your playing in the streets. I never wanted my dhannu to feel bad and I also wanted no one to talk bad about you. Dhannu, you are so special to me.

Dhannu, you did a lot of mistakes in the school. You stole one geometry box in sixth standard; you copied in your seventh standard; you were playing basket ball wonderfully, but after many games, you spent your energy in bullying the opponent team mates rather than playing. You stole dad’s money for your daily expenses and when you were caught, you had whippings from bamboo. And every time, I was behind you to ask apology to the affected end. People may think what a bad mom was I for not admonishing and beating you. But, Dhannu, I don’t believe in beating children (even with ramya and Ramu I follow and want you to follow the same). I thought that my apologizing in front of others for you might prick your values which I believe I have inculcated and hence you would renounce your bad qualities towards better reformation. But to be frank with you, I’m still waiting for your reformation. Do you know why I don’t mind in waiting for your change? Because, dhannu! You are my special son.

Dhannu, when you entered college, you loved a pretty girl. You knew that we didn’t like. But, tell me dhannu, did either me or dad have ever been acrimonious towards you. We stepped further. We arranged for your marriage after your settling in the job. I don’t expect any thanks from you. I don’t want you people to make me important. But, do you think its bad in my part to expect some love or closeness from my grandchildren. Why you never allow them to talk with me. You may perhaps think that I don’t know to bring up children. When I brought you up, everyone around me told me the same. I didn’t believe then. And even now, if you say so, I won’t acquiesce that. Because, I strongly believe that I have brought one of the gems my dear.

When your father was hospitalized, it was difficult for me to manage alone. I thought sheela would be there to take care of the house at least. She dexterously took a transfer. And I then had to take care of you too. Till now, I have never told you about this. I told myself that it may be unfair to force such duties to a newly married lady. But, dhannu, had I been in the same situation, my taught ethics wouldn’t have allowed me to do so.

When your father expired, I wanted his room in the upstairs to be preserved. You know, what all dreams he had in building this house. Every night he thought about the house. He even admired the foundation of the house. Till now, I don’t know what was there to appreciate. He wanted the arch in his hall. He wanted an angular entrance; he had specific specifications even for the slab position. After building the house, he worked 100% of his aesthetic senses for the construction of his single room in the first floor. When I enter the room I still feel his air. His easy chair was the only comfort for me after his death. I felt as if I lie in his lap. His library, spectacles, cot, night lamp, cloth hanger; I wanted everything in the same position just to remember the beautiful moments he had left behind. You know, your dad is one of the finest personalities in the world. His gentleness and decency can never be compared to anyone in the world. I’m proud to say that I’m his wife. You too should be proud to be his son. I learnt a lot from him without he teaching me, but just by his association. Both of us are blessed to have him. Aren’t such a great person’s memories important? I wanted that sweet memories. But despite my request, the room was cleaned and given for rent to some office. You know that I didn’t like that. But you could not have understood my burning feelings. It was acrid, abysmal. And even then, I didn’t complain. My saying so might have tempted either you or sheela to talk bad about your father. Nothing in the world can be worse than that. For god’s sake, I beg you dhannu, never ever think anything bad about your father, because I don’t want you to commit the greatest sin in the world.

I wanted to talk, laugh and enjoy ramya’s and ramu’s company. I believe, it is a very normal expectation of any grandmother. It was a hard blow in my four chambered weak heart when sheela said that I should not talk to them. After all, I just taught Ramayana, Mahabharata and arithmetic. Sheela says that I’m spoiling their time of piano classes and school’s homework. Dhannu, a research by “G.V. trust”, a social body, says with evidence that children’s intelligence and analytical skills emanates mainly from such stories and arithmetic of grand parents. I’m not claiming that I was doing a great job. I just wish to say you that I don’t spoil them. And, I don’t complain you dhannu. You know a lot more than me. You will always think your children’s betterment. But, when you and sheela told me that I should not disturb your family and you have plans to send me to “mathura old age home”, dhannu I virtually cried. Don’t think of my emotions dhannu, I’m just an old cot amidst the polished furniture here. I look odd at any respect. I had to apply little common sense to understand that what you did is not a great mistake. Dhannu dear, I promise, there won’t be any disturbance from me. You all will come in my dreams always and that will never be a disturbance for me, but elixir in my memories.

One important thing dhannu, though our society is running fast with its heels aiming western culture, it is not that easy for all to accept the justification of sending parents to old age home. So, when you talk to your friends, please say that I have gone for a pilgrimage tour and want to spend some days with some of my relatives. Don’t tell that you have sent me to old age home. They may think ill of you.

Dhannu! My dear, one day you will become a great man and half of the world will be your fans. And hence I don’t want even one person to think that you are bad.

Before ending this letter, I wanted to ask for apology for wasting your time to read this letter. But even before that I wanted to tell you one thing son. Dhannu I love you dear, I love you always till I live.”

Any normal person with human senses cannot control his feelings after reading this letter. And what about Dhanasekar, after reading this, he cannot avoid his eyes vomiting tears; he cannot avoid crying in front of his father’s portrait. He cannot stop from hurrying to ‘mathura old age home’.

But, as soon as Dhanasekar opened the letter, he had a call from his boss and he just left the letter in the dustbin beneath which decorated the corporation waste collecting Ashok Leyland trucks next morning. Alas ! Poor paarvathi amma’s feelings went unnoticed again.