Short Fiction : A tale for Ambu

Written on Thursday, November 03, 2011 by ShaK

A tale for Ambu
a short fiction by ShaKri

It had become a ritual without which seven year old Ambu’s day was incomplete. The challenge here for Janaki, her mother, was that there was nothing she could do to prevent it. So the tired woman would let Ambu hop into her little haven after dinner with her pigtails dancing around her head of glowing hair. The only concern Janaki did have however was making sure the old lady did not wear herself out with the incessant demand for fresh entertainment from Ambu each night. Nonetheless it happened without a pause. Each passing moon Ambu would fly out of the dinner table much to the amusement of her pot bellied father while Janaki would religiously yell out ‘Don’t bother ajji too much today! You have school tomorrow Ambu!’ That the little one would have long switched herself off to Janaki’s orders was another story. That night then was no different.

‘Ajji! I am here!’ Ambu grandly announced as her grandmother began pulling herself up from the bed that was now a part of her. ‘Come…come…’ she said with a wide toothless grin as little Ambu jumped on the bed and helped her granny sit up against the wall.

‘I was waiting for my little Ambulika,’ the old lady cackled as she kissed the little girl on her chubby cheeks by cupping the tiny chin.

‘My name is Ambika ajji! Not Ambulika!’ the child retorted with a complaint in her tone as her granny nodded her head in mock obedience.

‘Yes yes. Madam Ambika Devi. What brings you to this old woman’s hut today?’ she said folding her palms in salutation.

‘Ambika Devi wants a story!’ the child shrieked as the grandmother joined in on the laughter.

‘Ambu! Keep it down! Appa is working late today!’ came Janaki's echoing comand from the kitchen over the cacophony of steel vessels and running tap water.

‘Sssshhh…’ said the old woman to the child 'we don’t want amma to get upset right? Go. Close the door and come.’

As Ambu hopped off to the door the grandmother started pressing her arthritic knees. ‘Ambu…get some of that oil on your way back sweetheart. It is on the second row in that cupboard. Yellow colored bottle.’

Ambu did as instructed and soon found herself reluctantly massaging the old woman’s eternally exhausted knees. She often wondered how her ajji would end up with such sore knees even though she barely walked out of the room. Nevertheless, Ambu never questioned her on such matters since she had realized by now that each one of her tales had a price. So silence in some matters was the ideal way to deal with it.

And so began the story for that night.

‘Long long ago, in a place called Ratnagiri lived a young girl called Nandini. She had five sisters and two brothers. She was the youngest of the group. All of twelve years old and as quick as a firecracker.’

‘Like me!’ yelled out Ambu at the reference of one of her favorite things in life – the Deepavali festival.

‘Yes!’ chuckled back the old lady ‘like my little Ambu. The girl was very smart, very pretty and very naughty.’

‘Like me!’ said Ambu again as her hands worked on the joints that were giving up on the old soul.

‘Yes baby. Like you indeed,’ continued the old woman. ‘Nandini was the apple of her father’s eye. Her father was a lawyer and a freedom fighter. He was a brave man who fought against the red faced English till they left our country. Despite being someone who was always struggling for money, he had managed to keep his family sailing happily.’

‘Why ajji? Was he poor?’ inquired Ambu who had now understood the concept of money. If not much else she certainly knew not having it was a pretty bad thing.

‘No Ambu. He was not poor. But he was not rich either. He was in the middle. He made just enough money to feed his eight children and wife. But this never stopped them from being one happy family. These were times when money wasn’t everything. Happiness meant home. Joy meant being in it through good and bad. So he would work day and night for them. All of them were just a year or two apart from one another in age except little Nandini. She was eight years younger than her seventh sibling – her older sister. Being the youngest one means a lot of pampering and Nandini was no exception to this! Everyone made sure the young one got everything she ever wanted even if it meant making compromises. Nandini was the queen of that group.’

‘She sounds so cool ajji' said Ambu thinking of such privileged living. She was an only child so she did have some idea about the perks of being special in such a way.

‘Yes. She was. But Nandini’s mother always dealt her with a strong hand. Her mother was a very strict woman' ajji went on with a dramatic frown to keep the entertainment factor alive. ‘She did not believe in girls behaving like boys or the other way around. She was old fashioned and liked it her way. But seeing Nandini slowly becoming a tomboy with a demanding nature she always kept an eye on her. The last thing she wanted was for Nandini to get hurt. Yet Nandini was the rebel. Always had her way with things since she had a lot of support from her father. A fact her mother was never pleased with.

‘“Look at her!” she would often say half-jokingly. “Who on earth will marry this little beast? Nothing about her is girl-like. She should have been born a boy! At least then we could get some dowry! We should just get her some pants and change her name to Nandakishore. No one would know the difference...” and would stare at the brat-like girl pouting in the corner after her latest episode of something or the other.’

‘Nandini was so bad to her mommy’ observed Ambu as she had started thinking of Janaki by now.

‘No dear’ said ajji reassuringly. ‘Nandini loved her mother. But she liked teasing her just to see her response. It was a game they played with each other without ever confessing it. Ever.’

‘Oh OK then…’ said Ambu feeling a little better about it.

‘Nandini always made sure she never did anything to hurt herself since she knew it would hurt her mother more. But the night her brother was about to get engaged, little did she know that is exactly what she would end up doing. Hurt her self and worse, hurt her mother even more!’

‘Oh no! What happened ajji? Did she die? What happened to her mother? Did she die too?’ Ambu asked, her eyes lighting up a bit.

‘Oh no no!’ responded a puzzled ajji wondering how the morbid nature of death always excited the dullest of children. ‘Nandini did something that she would remember for the rest of her life. And so would her mother.

‘The house Nandini used to live in was an ancestral mansion that belonged to her grandfather. It was so big that you could play football in it! But since there were so many people in the house no one ever had enough space. Bringing up so many girls under one roof was no easy task. It still isn’t. Your amma got lucky Ambu.’

Ambu smiled back.

‘The house had been preparing for the event for more than a month. Nandini’s brother was the sixth child and the latest one to be getting married. As you can imagine that palace like house now seemed quite tiny with almost a hundred people running around to make a thousand arrangements. Remember when you had been to Girija mami’s wedding?’

Ambu nodded in approval before adding ‘I wore a blue chudidaar and I ate sugar cakes and played with Rashmi all day, ajji…and…and...you know that Venu?’

‘Aah yes yes!’ intervened ajji before Ambu took off on her own track. 'So that is how big this event also was. Men, women, children, all dressed in new clothes with kumkuma on their foreheads briskly pacing in and out of the house. The bridegroom to be, Nandini’s brother, wore a white silk shirt and black cotton pants. It was like a magic land where everything was clean and everyone was shining. Women walked around in silk saris they had kept specially for this occasion. The scent of agarbatti hung strongly around the huge house.

‘Hiding somewhere away from all this drama was our Nandini. Her mother had given her special instructions not to interfere with the event. She had, from experience of course, realized that involving Nandini in something as important as this would mean absolute trouble. There was no way she would do anything without creating a mess. So the one thing her mother did not want that day was that – a mess of things.’

‘Was Nandini sad about this, ajji?’

‘No. She was actually relieved that she was not given work. This meant she could do whatever she wanted and eat all the food she liked! Oh yes! Every sweet you could possibly think of was there. Gulab Jamoon, Laadoo, Rasmalai, Peda, Champakali….oh…’

The aged narrator's mouth began to gulp invisible delights imagining the latest contents of her own story.

‘Then what happened ajji?’ said Ambu bringing the old woman back from her brief reverie.

‘The sweets were the size of my hand I say! What a feast it was and Nandini had no one to stop her from enjoying any of those. She went around the large back yard that was now filled with cooks dishing out the best they could make, trying to choose what she wanted to eat first. The aroma of all the delicious food items could be smelt from miles away!

‘Now just a few yards beyond the backyard, past the old store room, stood a grand mango tree that had been there ever since she could remember. Nandini always loved raw mangoes. It was her only major weakness when it came to fruit. She could never resist a good one when she saw it. Once she noticed no one was watching, she decided to attend to the sweets later and headed to the tree instead. But as she passed by the store room she found something quite odd about it that day. The store room was usually a place where they kept things like dried coconuts, old and useless vessels, pots, pans, broken dolls, her brother’s bicycles and other items of the house. It was always locked and specially on a special day like that day there was no way anyone would want to go into that old and dusty place. But that day the door was slightly open and the lock seemed to have been broken! Curiosity got the better of Nandini and so she approached the store room to investigate.

‘When she opened the door she was surprised to see that someone had managed to open the inner door that led directly into the house! That inner door was rarely closed so everyone had access to it. She yelled out ‘Hello! Hello!’ a couple of times but there was no response. She followed the trail through the store room back into the house to see what the matter was. Once inside she found herself in the room adjacent to the worship room where they kept jewels and other expensive material. A loud thud from that room caught her attention. Sensing danger, Nandini picked up a thick broom that was lying around.’

Ambu had stopped massaging the old woman's knees by now. Engrossed in the narration, the old lady had not noticed it either.

‘She tip toed her way into the room and what does she see? A man is filling a bag with all the jewels and silver vessels! Nandini was shocked to see this and she shouted ‘Thief! Thief! Help! Thief!’ at which point the man turned around and dashed at her!’

‘O no!’ said Ambu with fear writ large on the concerned face.

‘O yes! He must have been as tall as a coconut tree! He had a dark big mustache the size of banana leafs and his arms were as large as temple pillars! He ran at her and shut her mouth with his giant hands immediately. The broom fell from her hands in panic as he dragged her away from the small alley door through which one could see people passing by deep inside the house. She kept screaming under the strength of this raakshasa but there was no one to help her. She desperately kept kicking her legs and trying to get away from him. But it was no use.

‘Just as he was about to take her to the store room next door she noticed an open jar of turmeric powder that often got used in the worship room. She snatched it from its location and flung it on top of her head and right onto his face!’

‘Yeaaaaaah! Well done Nandini!’ screamed Ambu clapping her hands in support.

‘When the sting of the turmeric hit the man he immediately let go of the bag from the other hand. But then things took a turn to the worse as he now grabbed her throat with it instead! In the blind rage of having been attacked by a defenseless little girl he began choking the life out of her! But Nandini was brave. Oh yes. She managed to open her mouth with some effort and bit deep into his large and ugly fingers as hard as she could. He yelled out in pain as she pushed him away and made a dash at whatever jewels came to her hand. Without a care in the world she then ran into the house screaming at the top of her voice calling out ‘Amma! Amma!’ hoping desperately that her mother would come to her aid.

‘But just as she was about to reach the main celebration area she found her mother getting out of one of the rooms. She was shocked to see Nandini drenched in turmeric powder from head to toe with her hair and dress in an absolute mess! Without even inquiring about the cause she walked up to her and slapped Nandini hard across the face.

‘“So you have managed to ruin the day for me after all isn’t it? Why can’t you just be a regular girl for a change Nandini? What have I done to you that you do this to me every single time? Today is a big day for your brother and look at you! Playing with turmeric and messing up the floors! Do you know how many hours I have spent cleaning them? Do you?” she screamed.

'Nandini stood in mute silence clutching a pair of bangles she had managed to salvage from the thief as her mother showered her with curses, pushed her into the bathroom and dumped a few buckets of cold water on the girl's head. As the yellow water disappeared into the drain, so did Nandini's tears.'

‘But why didn’t she tell the mother ajji? Not fair! Not fair at all!'

‘No dear. She didn’t say a word. I don’t know why. But she just didn’t tell her mother anything. A few moments later her mother took her into a room, threw a towel at her and returned to her duties red with anger and exhaustion. As Nandini slowly dried herself off, she opened her fist and looked at the pair of gold bangles that sat firmly there away from plain sight. They were the ones her mother had specially gotten made for Nandini's wedding. She quickly hid them away. No one heard of those bangles ever again.’

‘But was that raakshasa thief caught ajji? Was he punished?’

‘No dear. He was never found even though a police complaint was made. After Nandini had fled from his clutches he had picked up what he could despite his burning eyes, knocked over a lot of other things in the worship room before escaping from the back door. Someone noticed the mess and raised an alarm but it was a good amount of time after the theft. By the time it reached Nandini's mother's ears all traces of Nandini's involvement in the incident had been unknowingly cleaned up by those who had been there before. A huge debate exploded about how it had happened. The whole celebration wore a damp look after that since they knew they had to go on with the ceremonies regardless. Nandini’s mother was inconsolable at the loss. Specially of the pair of gold bangles.

‘She wept as her relatives held and consoled her. “What a day I have lived to see! Those were not even for me! They were for Nandini! I was going to give them to her when she got married! O Lord! What a dark day this is! Why have you done this to us?” she said with tears flowing uncontrollably. But Nandini watched all of this with down cast eyes and not a word from her mouth.’

‘Nandini was a bad girl then? She didn’t tell her mommy no? She made her cry so much!’ observed Ambu as the first yawn escaped her lips.

‘Yes dear. Nandini did a good thing but then also a bad thing. That’s why always be good to your mother. She loves you a lot and you should always listen to her. Alright?’ said ajji before kissing the young one a good night.

'Tell me about the blind frog and the talkative old crow tomorrow OK ajji?' said the girl before being carried away by Janaki.

The old woman stretched back on her rickety bed as Ambu left the room. The ceiling fan swam in silent appreciation of ajji’s latest story. A story about how a girl had wronged her mother. A story of a girl's bravery that had sadly gone without acknowledgment. About a lesson that highlighted the need for love and trust in relationships.

But who was to blame? The mother for not trusting her daughter enough? Or the daughter who never did enough to gain the mother's trust? Or was it that she could never do enough to please her mother? Or was it just that the two never understood one another given their vast age difference? Ajji didn’t know the answers to all those complicated questions. She slowly pushed her hand under the pillow and pulled out a small wooden box. She opened it carefully and looked at a pair of gleaming gold bangles sitting pretty as ever inside it. She smiled with moist eyes and murmured softly ‘Don't worry amma. I got them. I got them.'



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