#PTP -1
A Little Rewind:
Narayana runs a mess in Triplicane, Chennai, which is frequented by customers, many fighting their own battles. Along with the food, Narayana serves up healthy doses of support, advise and often just silent compassion. He could be an active propellant driving their tales forward, or a silent observer. His heart breaks a little for the star-crossed lovers, Kavya and Prakash. But Narayana’s own story is one of perseverance and spirited survival. Life goes on and the mess opens every day to a new beginning and to new characters. And so, it continues.
A New Day
The temple bells drove away the last remnants of the night’s dreams.
Walking into the dank kitchen, Narayana fired up the stove. The cauldron of lentils was boiling and he was chopping pumpkins when Biplab arrived.
“Anna, too much water, too little dal”.
“Dal is expensive. Raising prices will mean losing customers”.
He walked to the front, his mind embroiled in furious calculations.
Watching Babu lighting the lamp for the deities behind the desk, Narayana envisioned Kavya and Prakash. “Poor kids. Perumale, be kinder to them”.
The invigorating smell of filter coffee permeating the environment, the provisions being unloaded, the clanking of vessels, the staff yelling, and the wonderful sight of the four long tables filled with hungry customers, created a happy buzz in Narayana.
As the morning crowd dispersed, Narayana noticed the old man – drooping shoulders, defeated head bent over, sitting still.
Narayana walked upto him. “Ayya, breakfast orders are closed. Lunch will start shortly”.
The old man looked up. “Oh! Do I have to leave? I….. I have nowhere to go”.
The old man continued occupying the chair, which chair if put to use of paying customers, could have earned atleast Rs 700.
At around 3, Dorje served the old man some curd rice.
Post the lunch rush, the staff retreated to the backyard for some rest.
Narayana approached the old man.
“Ayya, you should go home”.
Old man looked up in despair, and his words overflowed with his tears.
“Where? Raghu, my son ……. and my daughter Alamelu, are dividing everything, the jewels gone, and now my house, which I purchased using all savings, taking loans, pledging Vimala’s jewels! It took us so long to repay the loans and redeem Vimala’s jewellery.
But we were so happy. The children grew up in this house. Now this home….., and Vimala, gone!
When Alamelu got married, Vimala gave her the jewels. Raghu got upset, and I promised him the house. He was already living with us along with his wife, Maithili and their kids.
Vimala would get up early, cook, pack lunches, feed the kids, send them to school, keep the house and kids clean. Otherwise, we would face Maithili’s wrath.
She died last June, in her sleep. Poor Vimala.
Maithili had to take all responsibilities then, and started shouting at me constantly for being useless.
I gave me entire pension to Raghu. I made coffee, cleaned. But unlike Vimala, I did not know how to manage.
Then they gave me the ultimatum to either transfer the house to Raghu or go live with Alamelu”.
“And then”, Old man continued in a wretched voice, “I transferred the house to Raghu. Alamelu became angry and demanded that I give my pension and my savings to her. She arrived this morning and Maithili yelled at both of us to get out. Alamelu screamed back that she will not move until there is fair distribution, And, then well, here I am”.
Suddenly Vakil Arumugam’s voice boomed from the next table, “this has become a common story. Old man, if the kids are mistreating you, ask for reversal of the transfer. Get your house back”.
Old man perked up. “Really? I can do that? How?”
Arumugam laughed. “Come with me, I will help you”.
Old man got up in a shot and walked out with Arumugam’s arm around his shoulders.
“Now how much money do you have? And your pension? My fees will have to be adjusted, but that is secondary. First, I need to look at the documents………..”, Arumugam’s voice faded away, as they disappeared from sight.
The night deepened and the mess fell silent. Narayana upturned all chairs onto the tables. Dorje washed the floor, the batter for the next day’s idlis fermenting in the clean kitchen.
The staff left, and Narayana downed the shutters, with thoughts of Old man and his wife, a woman who had borne the burden of being a wife and mother till the end, and was missed now only because of her usefulness.
As Narayana lay down and closed his eyes, his mind travelled back to the scrawny boy, new to the city, barefoot and broke. He saw him washing dishes, sweeping, stirring the big vessels of rice and dal, and cutting vegetables finer and finer till Vasudevan ayya sitting at the front was satisfied. He saw the pretty girl run through the kitchen laughing. He felt his heart stir as it had fluttered at that sight a thousand years ago. He saw him in the new veshti and shirt that Vasudevan ayya had got him, as he witnessed the handsome groom tie the thali around her neck, his own utter wretchedness hanging upon him like a heavy dirty blanket. He saw her crying as Vasudevan ayya was carried over the threshold for the last time, and he felt the same amazement as he had the day the lawyer had told him that Vasudevan ayya had bequeathed the mess to him.
“Oh Pushpa”, Narayana muttered aloud. “I don’t know where or how you are. Perhaps in another realm, we are together. Or perhaps we are never meant to be and maybe that’s a good thing. I might have been the old man, and you, Vimala and our kids, cheee………, horrible children!”
He turned over and went to sleep. Tomorrow will be another day and another story at this Pushpa Mess.
Glossary:
Anna– Big Brother. He is watching!
Ayya – Sir?
Dal – Lentils, to be eaten with rice. Our daily source of limited protein. The ratio goes – One small cup of dal to a large mound of rice.
Idlis – Please see the picture Ranjit Narayanan has added to the story.
Perumale – One of Lord Vishnu’s numerous names. To be uttered when in utter despair.
Vakil – A lawyer becoming rich.
