Twenty-five

A short-Story by Reshmi l Monday Blossoms segment by BE TALES l

Being a single child, I had my pluses and minuses.

And the thing I abhorred the most was going on long car drives sitting at the back while Ma and Pa occupied the passenger and driver seats discussing the so-called matters of their adult life. Oh! The drives always drained me. Every year, my parents preferred to take the car while visiting my paternal and maternal grandparents in Kerala, who stayed at a distance of six hours apart. As a child, I told my grandparents to stay in one big house so it would be easier for us to meet them in one go and they would laugh at my suggestion.

The only time I wished for a sibling was during these grandparents-visiting-long car drives as fighting with him or her would help me while away my time. To comfort me, my parents ensured to play the music I liked and kept the back seat as free as possible with no annoying luggage so I could stretch my legs, but no matter how hard they tried, I never enjoyed these drives.

Every year during vacation, we visited places in India, travelling in planes which I enjoyed, staying in some of the finest resorts, going around the place, and doing lots of shopping.

I was looking forward to my Autumn vacation after the draining ninth-grade mid-term exam. As per my calculation, we should be visiting Delhi as Ma’s sister had moved there and she had been inviting us for some time. But my parents had their plans all decided.

“What’s so great about Mahabalipuram other than those ruins and a beach?” I asked Ma.

“It’s been such a long time since I visited the place.” Ma said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes.

“And how long is it?” I knew my parents had planned to take the car.

“Six to seven hours, it depends on the traffic,” pat came Pa’s reply.

“Arggh...” I grunted and walked away.

We started very early (which is another irritating thing) to cross our city.

For breakfast, we stopped at a hotel recommended by Pa’s friend and I wasn’t disappointed. The idlis were soft, and I surprised myself by ordering another plate. Ma seemed amazed considering the hatred I had for the south Indian breakfast.

And then came the part I dreaded the most during these drives- using the public toilet. An old lady with a bandaged leg was managing the restroom, and she guided the women standing in a queue. She had a smile on her face and kept asking each woman her preference - Indian or western. I found it funny though that there was a choice for this as well. But Ma was awed by the old lady’s professionalism as she limped and poured water and some phenyl-like solution as soon as a restroom got free and invited the women to use it. This cleaning of her’s impressed the ladies, including Ma, and they paid her handsomely, which the old lady happily accepted.

I heaved a sigh of relief when we reached our not-so-great hotel. It was post-lunch time, and I created a ruckus when the items I wanted were not available. Pa promised to take me to the restaurant in the evening where they serve great North Indian food.

The first place we headed for our so-called sightseeing was the Pancha Rathas which was full of tourists and families. It was only ten in the morning and was already hot and sunny. Armed with glasses and hats, we three went around the place. Ma mentioned during her school days in Chennai, Guindy park and Mahabalipuram were the only two excursion spots they were taken to. Despite the sweaty day, Ma went around excitedly, whereas I preferred to sit in the shade of Arjuna’s penance till my parents finished with their site seeing. I neither had the energy nor a bit of interest in touring the place in the hot weather. I missed my home.

Pa requested a foreigner from Virginia to take our family photo in front of the Bhima Ratha, which he obliged. Our next place of visit was the lighthouse. My legs were hurting from walking so far and beads of sweat dropped onto the ground.

And as predicted, there was quite a considerable crowd at the lighthouse. I wondered why every tourist place in India was so crowded. Is it because of the population or is it we don’t have many tourist places that people keep visiting the same places again and again?

It was too stuffy with so many people climbing the stairs to reach the top.

“Why is everyone in the world here?” I spoke irritably.

“In five minutes, we’ll be there” Ma whispered.

By the time we reached the top, I was gasping for breath. But when I saw the beach and the old lighthouse built by the Pallava king, I wasn’t sure if we needed to take all this effort, but Ma exclaimed, “Isn’t the view amazing?” and Pa nodded. Ma reminded me the photograph with her best friend was taken from this lighthouse during her last school excursion before she moved to Mumbai.

The next stop was the shore temple and by this time, the sun was directly on top of our heads. I was cursing under my breath and thought why my parents thought of coming here of all the places on earth.

After a light lunch and resting for a while, we headed to the beach and Ma had a bright smile on her face. “Come, let’s go,” she said cheerfully, removing her footwear and walking towards the water.

I held Ma’s hand as the waves gently touched our feet.

We have so many photographs of this famous pose from the various beaches we had visited- Ma and me holding hands with our feet deep in the water. Pa, as usual, preferred to watch us from a distance safeguarding our belongings.

“Don’t go too far,” came Pa’s voice from behind.

“There he goes,” laughed Ma.

Ma and I were used to Pa’s restrictions, which we always conveniently ignored. The cool breeze and the water soothed me from the day-long sweaty tour. I looked around. People of all ages and sizes were having a great time.

Hearing the excited screams of a teenage group, Ma smiled as it reminded her of the time when she and her friends held hands as they stood in knee-deep water during their school trip here.

Back in our hotel, once I had gotten myself rid of the beach sand after a nice bath, my parents gave me another shock.

“Where is this Kilpauk?” I asked.

“It’s where Ma’s school is. Don’t you want to see the place?”

“No Pa. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“But she wants to,” Pa said quietly and looked at Ma, who was folding the clothes lying strewn on the hotel bed.

“Then do as you wish,” I retorted.

It took about two hours to reach our destination. When Pa stopped in front of a school, Ma got out of the car swiftly and went and opened the gate. It was almost close to three on a Monday afternoon. Except for a few girls who were playing volleyball and some ladies who looked like teachers, the school looked deserted.

Ma went around her school, her face content and happy. She walked around the children’s play area, the primary and high school block, with Pa and me following her. She peeped into the science lab and had funny stories to tell about her lab experiences.

Ma then headed to a white building and chatted with a few people before she disappeared into a room. After a while, she came out with a short lady dressed in a starched blue cotton sari, her hair tied in a bun.

“She is Ms Lily. My geography teacher and now the school principal,” Ma smiled as she introduced the lady to both of us.

The lady gave me a tight hug and ordered her peon to get us some snacks from the school canteen. Ma beamed as she stood next to her teacher when Pa took their photographs.

“So how long it’s been since you last visited your school?” I asked Ma as crossed the road.

“Twenty-five years,” she said, turning to look back at her school one last time.

“Seriously?” I exclaimed. Ma nodded and got into the car.

“Twenty-five years. Can’t believe why I took so long to come here.” Ma turned her head to talk to me as Pa started the car. “When your grandfather got a job in Mumbai, the family had to move there and for me, it was such a difficult time as I missed my school and my friends. But as they say, life moves on. College, job, marriage, and family followed, and I got busy with my life.”

Pa steered the wheel to the left to enter a narrow lane.

Ma continued, “But today I felt like the same chubby tenth grader with plaited hair who had a lot of friends but wasn’t the popular one. Visiting Mahabalipuram and the school brought back so many childhood memories and I’m glad I got to visit them once again with both of you. This trip meant a lot to me.” Ma said in a relaxed tone. I smiled back and Pa drove us towards the national highway.

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