Rosewater

JULY 12, 2001 

Neyveli, India 

The TV grains multiplied moving freely and fast. Reva had run out of patience. She took it out on the buttons of a two-year-old BPL remote. The fragile silicone plastic protecting it was already in tatters. A new episode of Power Puff Girls must be airing now behind the static in another virtual Tele dimension. Retelecast wasn’t common on CN then. If you miss a show, you miss it forever. Usually, bad weather did this to the cable, but that night was as fine as any other humid summer night. 

Neyveli was a clean town. Temperatures dipped and climbed to extreme levels in summers and winters, but people didn’t complain. All they needed was peace and the city readily offered it. The population count hardly crossed a lakh. Bird-eye view of the township made it look like a realistic SimCity on Earth. Roads were always deserted and the issue of traffic jams was unheard of. Boasting 3 distinct power stations, the town’s lignite fields electrified many states and union territories in South India. Employees working in the Powerplant were given free accommodations till the end of their service period. Neyveli Township was an ideal vivarium of 30 blocks with all essential services just a stone’s throw away from one’s house. Like many, Reva too felt safely trapped in it. 

“Ammmaaaaaaa!!!!”, a deranged shriek pierced the bedroom walls and startled her. Naturally, she jumped and dropped the remote. Reva rushed towards the second bedroom to find her grandmother, Aya lying motionless rejecting the thin line of milk poured into her trembling lips. Surrounded by five daughters, Aya peacefully said Goodbye without a fuss, breathing her last. No sooner had

Reva started processing it than a hand dragged her away from the spot. It was her mother panting and panicking. 

“Run to Anand’s house. His Mom knows. She has cleared their guest bedroom for you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. Don’t talk back, Don’t look back. Run! Now!” 

Reva could more or less gauge the situation as the sobbing sounds soared. There’s a dead body in the house now. Fighting her urge to find out, Reva darted out of the house. They lived in single-storeyed quarters that contained four houses and Anand’s family lived at the opposite wing. Anand’s mother, a passive-aggressive but friendly neighbour, received Reva without a word. Reva usually spent most of her post-school evenings at Anand’s house but today it felt different. Strangely, she felt embarrassed. The air was thick with silence. No hugs. No tears. No words of comfort. It was such a blessing. Reva quietly hovered into the guest bedroom as the lady followed her halfway. She hopped on the bed, closed her eyes and drifted into a warm darkness, with no dreams or nightmares. 

Morning rays oozed through the curtains forming a limeight for the dancing dust motes. Reva woke up to the loud sound of Shankh. Hindus believe that Shankhs or Conch shells were blown to spread frequencies of divine energies. This paradoxical claim makes Shankhs a necessary instrument both in Poojas and Funerals. 

The self-induced shock of the thought, “My Aya is dead!” didn’t trigger anything in Reva. This fresh realisation didn’t hit her as expected. Reva could hear an unpleasant hubbub building up outside the window. Parai Drums and Conch sounds weaved an ominous tune. Reva fought the sudden bile reflux.

“Did Mom forget about me?”, she shuddered at the thought. Reva sprinted through the house's main entrance without looking back. Leaping over three steps in one go, she crossed the flight of dingy stairs and found herself in the middle of the road. That whole place looked unusual. Freshly erected Shamianas completely changed the look of her house. Marquees too made it to auspicious occassions and funerals. Yet another addition to the curious case of Conch shells. Reva slithered through the crowd and reached the hall where the body was kept for last respects. 

No one cared to notice who entered or exited the hallway. It was astounding to witness the influx of people that day. She slowly crawled towards her mother whose face was washed over by overnight grief. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. “Go brush your teeth and eat something. There’s milk in the kitchen”, her Mom’s weak voice appealed. She signalled one of her sisters. 

“Make sure Reva eats. And bring me a glass of Horlicks, please.” Reva was mildly bewildered by her mother’s bizarre request. A daughter desiring to eat or drink while her mother lay dead was incomprehensible to her. 

“How insensitive!”, she thought, “I guess Mom didn’t truly love Aya after all” 

Aya lay there covered by layers of garlands on a rigid bed of dry ice. Both her thumbs were tied together with a small piece of cloth. Same went for the toes too. Aya’s eyelids and mouth were closed. Tiny cotton balls were plugged into her nostrils and ears. Crushed by random feet, rose petals descended from garlands and formed sticky red imprints on the concrete. An array of silver plates carrying colourful flowers and fruits were kept near the 60-year-old body. Bundles of incense sticks planted on ripe bananas diffused sandalwood scent all over the hall. Reva wondered if the bananas would turn highly fragrant after the incense died. “Does it taste better?”, she doubted. Someone sprinkled rosewater from time to time around the body. Its scent

reminded her of Gulkand candies. Reva once emptied the contents of a big Dabur Gulabari rosewater bottle into the bathing tub and took a swim in it. 

“I am going to turn as fair as Mom tomorrow, Aya!”, she exclaimed. Her grandmother giggled and giggled. 

“Silly girl! I wish you could see how beautiful you look the way you are”, she’d say. 

Adhan from a distant mosque blended with the funeral fracas and created an eerie vibe. Sounds of those regular prayer calls scared the life out of Reva today. She was tempted to abandon the mourning scene and head for the hills. For Reva, it was unfortunate that the much-awaited summer vacation was hijacked this way. She looked forward to spending her holidays listening to Aya, the master storyteller. She could have made pencil sketches and watercolour paintings and received sweet appreciation from her Grandmother. They would have watched TV serials all day and chatted about leaving the world together. Reva loved her Grandmother more than her parents. Not because of their limited presence or poor parenting skills. Aya and Reva’s warm connection began the day she was born. Aya’s frail hands cradled and fed this girl for 11 years while Reva’s parents were busy building a financially stable household. No one is at fault here. The couple wanted a child-free life but societal coercions and accidental pregnancy created a baby. Thanks to a powerful family planning procedure, nothing was created again. And now, Reva has lost her fairy Godmother. Still, this irreplaceable loss hasn’t been felt the way it should have been felt. 

“Why aren’t my emotions working today?!”, Reva reflected. Appu, her 7-year-old impish cousin pulled her hand and dragged her outside. “Come, let's hide under the ramp and poke people’s feet!”, he pressed.

As much as Reva was tempted to go and irk random people, she didn’t want to leave Aya’s side. All those funeral customs and rituals fascinated her. She wanted to watch the climax, the grand send-off. 

“You’ll never understand the value of something until you lose it forever”, Aya used to say every time Reva came home after losing umbrellas at school. 

“Fine, I am a loser. I am irresponsible. I don’t care. I’ll never use an umbrella in my life again! Happy?”, Reva vowed angrily and switched to Raincoats later. 

Aya’s finest entertainment came from Reva’s silly temper tantrums. Today, her lifeless body lay stretched swollen and taut, ignoring the people imploring her to come back through their spooky Oppari songs. Reva suddenly found a pinkish watery liquid flowing sideways from Aya’s thin lips. It wetted the white bandage cloth tied around Aya’s head and jaw. Reva attempted to touch it. Before she knew it, an unknown hand slapped her wrist and yanked her out of the hall. 

“What the hell are you doing? You are not supposed to touch the body. You’ll catch an infection. Stay here! Don’t move! Your Mother has given me an earful already!” 

Reva’s least favourite aunt did what she did best, taunting and locking up children. She is now imprisoned in her room for who knows how long. The usual punishment on an unusual day. Reva couldn’t get Aya’s image out of her head. A sudden sense of rage started to bubble inside. 

“Aya is such a cheater! We were supposed to leave the world together!”, she gasped. Just frustration but no tears. On the study table, Reva found a small packet wrapped in a newspaper. The Daily seemed to have turned grey with cooking oil. After untying the needlessly long thread, she found 3 Idlis soaked

in white and red chutney beneath a layer of plantain leaves. It smelled divine. Reva’s stomach growled softly. She devoured it all without caring a thing about oral hygiene. 

At 3 O'clock in the evening, the doors opened. Reva was sound asleep. It was her mother. She gently nudged her. 

“Come on sweetie, wake up. Aya is leaving. Come..” 

“Leaving…? Where?”, Reva wondered, processing her Mom’s words. 

Outside the gate, a mini lorry stood decorated with marigolds. Aya’s body was taken out to the Verandah for the final bath. She was wrapped in her favourite wedding silk saree and was safely placed inside the glass coffin. Death on a Saturday is believed to be a bad Omen. To prevent the deceased from seeking company, a small dead chicken was tied to a thread and hung in front of the lorry. 

“Reva, baby, see Aya’s face one last time. She’s leaving us”, cried her mother. Her words amplified the howling around and it sounded dreadful. Reva was numb. She stood there emotionless watching the lorry slowly move. A few drunk men were dancing before the procession putting up a performance of their lifetime. Flower trails lined the streets as if the departed were leaving breadcrumbs. Aya’s daughters stayed home while their husbands handled all cremation procedures at the cemetery. Upon their return, the men described Rigor Mortis in the most horrifying way possible. 

The night lapsed quietly with a changed atmosphere. Aya’s daughters held hands and had dinner together while reminiscing about their Mother’s good, bad and ugly parts. Although they’d soon return to their wicked old ways, this momentary unity brought comfort. Sibling rivalries were suspended. Reva, on

the other hand, showered and packed her bags. She would spend the whole summer with her cousins and come home only in June when school reopens. Reva’s Mother didn’t want her staying all alone in the house, especially after a sudden death. 

Everyone retired to their beds after an exhausting 48 hours. Reva usually slept with her Grandmother in the second bedroom but now it’s a restricted area. 

“I’ll use the washroom and be back”, she assured her Mom and left the bed. 

The house was quiet except for the whirs of ceiling fans and air coolers. A fleeting thought egged on Reva to have a peek at Aya’s room, their room. Once a safe space where she’d forget all her worries and sleep, hugging the old woman’s giant hips. Their typical night began with a bedtime story and ended with a powerful prayer to the Guardian spirits. Aya’s delicate fingers would run through Reva’s hair and sprinkle magical sand into her eyes. 

Reva slowly switched on the Tube light, careful enough to not alert anyone. As the room came into view, a sudden feeling of emptiness engulfed her. Something was missing. The mats, beds,pillows, blankets, crutches and medicine box were all missing. 

“Is she really gone? Will I not see her again…ever?”, worried Reva. 

Her eyes stopped at a framed picture of Aya, smiling serenely behind the aromatic offerings, calm and composed as ever. Reva settled on the floor and stared at the picture. 

“Are you going to come get me?”, she asked. 

Silence ensued.

The realisation that two-way communication wasn’t possible anymore ran a chill through her spine. Her trembling hands picked up one of the mini Rosewater bottles kept near the picture. By muscle memory, she removed the cap and brought it towards her nose. It only took a second. Reva felt a hard punch on her left chest. Her throat turned dry and started closing in. The room began to shrink. A quick flash of scenes and an infinite slideshow of Aya’s memories clouded her eyes. Salty fluids ran all over Reva’s face as her body shuddered and quivered without a sound. Breathing became unbearable. Something was trying to escape her body but all vents were shut. Reva opened her mouth and let it go. 

The house shuddered at the loud noise. 

“Aayaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”