Memory

January 28, 2007

The blue gates, the front drive-way, the marble step leading onto the porch, were all too familiar. I rang the bell out of curiosity. A beautiful young woman with curly hair flowing down to her waist opened the door. “Good evening.” I said. The woman’s reaction was rather uncanny. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped.

“Where have you been? We were worried sick about you. Vikas has gone out searching for you, right now” Thus saying she pulled me into the house. I didn’t resist. The house looked nice and cozy. I’ve been to this place before.

“Your sandals look like they have been through muck. Did you go to the fields again, papa?”

“No. I was on my way back home from the court, actually.” I replied to her question. “It has been quite a tiring day. You couldn’t make a cup of tea, could you?”

The woman sighed, closed the door behind me and went into the kitchen. I heard clattering vessels, running water and the gas stove turned on. But the cup of tea never came.

A man opened the front door and entered the house looking very worried. But as soon as he saw me, he relaxed. He took a few steps towards me, as if to ask a question, but instead he sighed, shook his head and settled himself on the sofa next to me, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

“How was court today?” he asked.

“Criminal law is very tiring, young man. This Kurian case is a tricky one too. And these bloody journalists! They are capable of sucking the blood out of you, I tell you. They will do anything for a juicy story.”

March 4, 2007

She keeps feeding me. She only wants to feed me all the time. Sometimes it’s good food. I like sambar and rice with mango pickle. I don’t like fancy food, unhealthy food. My mother made the best sambar. I still remember the taste.

“Can I have some tea? I’m really thirsty… It was the closing today. That man must learn how to curb his anger in court… So that settles it. That is how we come to the conclusion that… is that tea I can smell?”

Next case begins day after. The court has finally announced the dates. Mr. Kurian will finally be happy. The papers are all ready. But I’m feeling a little uncomfortable. I’m an old man now. My memory is failing me. I’m not sure I will be as sharp as I used to be. This case is big. I must not lose it.

May 25, 2008

Little Tarini is quite a handful. She never wants me to get out of the house. I myself am quite attached to her. She loves coming to my office and playing around with my associates. After all it’s just the other room that she needs to crawl into. It’s quite a relief for Lalita. She feels the burden of becoming a mother at 35, sometimes.

“Papa, it’s time for your medicine. Come, get up.” This lady is quite a nuisance. “You can continue writing after you have had your medicine. Now come on, papa. Besides you should not be lying on your stomach and writing.”

“Amma, please don’t bother me. I’m studying now. I will have my medicine later. Just keep it on my study table.”

“Tarini, what is all that noise?” It’s that man again. He keeps calling me papa. But I have no son. Only one daughter, isn’t it? I do have a daughter, don’t I? I wonder where she is.

“You go tend to Appu. He says he has finished studying. Come, papa. I brought you some tea.”

“I may not be as old as you, sir. But I’m old enough to know that what you have in your hand is not tea but the medicine the other lady wants me to have.”

He is laughing. But the laughter sounds sad.

“So, now you’re not as old as me, is it? There was a time when you were against my marrying your daughter because I was too young.”

“My daughter is barely one year old. You can’t get married to my daughter.”

August 30, 2008

“Papa, what are you doing? You will catch a cold. Please, come in. All that dirty water will have insects that will bite you. No, no, don’t do that you will fall.”

“Rain is so beautiful, isn’t it? I like getting drenched in the rain. Ho! Hahaha!”

I don’t like this woman. I was having so much fun in the rain. Amma never stopped me from playing.

“Amma! This woman won’t let me play in the rain.”

Amma is too busy. She won’t hear me in all the bustling inside. The preparation for Onam has begun. My distant relatives have all poured in to my house. Now there is no chance I am going to be able to study. The last room on the left of the floor above used to be my only respite, during the festival, for any privacy. But now that is filled with big wooden boxes. And my foolish cousins will not let go of me.

August 30, 2009

I have a beevy hed. Think me sick. Want slip. Newspaper say I be wrong.

“Papa, come have lunch.”

“I object. That was completely uncalled for. What do we gulp?”

“Papa, what are you saying? I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

“That’s that... I shall bring the flowers for you to examine.”

“Papa, do you remember Vikas’s parents? They are here to see you. Yes, come shake their hand. Now come, lets all have lunch.”

“It has bing good doing bigness with you, sir. Very happy. This table is gigantic. All can sit on it and eat. All very happy and gay. Very nice.”

“That’s the best papa can do to express his happiness at seeing you. The doctor says this is the beginning of moderate dementia. It’s the second stage of Alzheimer’s. Speech and writing skills are slowly being forgotten. It’s only a matter of time that he will lose all ability to communicate. He can still speak. But what he says can be barely understood. They say he was the most articulate among other lawyers at the high court. He earned such reputation for his precision and aggression in court. Now, all you see of it are these writings. He writes all day long. He will never go anywhere without his little diary and that pen. We have never had the heart to see what he writes. But slowly he is even losing his ability to grip the pen in his hand. He is losing everything day by day.”

Women cry lots of tim. Quietness is silent when peeple talk not. Case closed in due tim. Woman stop crying.