Monday, March 13, 2006
one afternoononce when i was abt 8 or 9, my aunt's family came to visit us in dhaka from malaysia. my cousin brother (or, 'bhai', my erstwhile hero and mentor being only a year older than me) and i had not seen each other in 5 years.
when one is 8 or 9, 5 years is a millennium. yet, once we were left together for 5 minutes, the years apart evaporated, and we were once again joined at the hip. our bond, though, consisted mostly with me following his every command with mute devotion, struck dumb by his powers at ingenious mischief. and what an artist he was!
although afternoons were supposed to be nap time for the kids, midday found the grown-ups siesta-ing religiously unable to resist the soporofic vapors of a humid earth. this left us with sweet time to do with ourselves as we pleased. my grandfather's many home improvement schemes made sure there was always sand or dirt mounds strewn about the yard. with this gold mine, we immersed ourselves in dirt and grime till sunset, unbeknownst to the sleeping elders.
on one such afternoon, however, my aunt (bhai's mom) awoke with a start at some noise we'd made too close to the window. she tip toed out with a handheld fan made out of dried palm leaves clutched behind her back. she found us knee-deep in a sandpile with plastic soldiers and matchbox toys. she beckoned us ominously.
the fan was a common implement for spankings back in those days. so we both knew clearly what was coming. but more than the thought of impending explosions of pain in the palm of my hands, i was mortified by how my aunt could actually think of hitting me. in my world, only parents could hit children, and no other. i could not believe that she would break that sacred familial law.
she didn't. much to my relief... not at escaping punishment myself but having maintained the order of things.
~~~
my aunt died on feb 11, 2006. alone in her house while the paramedics broke down the front door.
she had a voice like an 11 year old girl... like flowing water ... and a stubborn, wide-eyed innocence about the world - about money, status, artifacts of the good life - also befitting an 11 year old girl. in her own way she was lucky. she never had to grow up. always got her way with things and people. since she was pretty in her youth, love and adulation came easy. her husband remained besotted with her till the very end - long after the looks had gone.
so what if by lacking foresight and being overly possessive, she had completely alienated her two kids and ruined every chance they had? she just did the best she could.
she had been quite ill with diabetes and it's effects for years, but for the most part, managed to still enjoy life as she knew how. she got two of her long time wishes fulfilled in the later part of 2005, when they sold everything in nz and moved to sydney.
i found out that she was terminal two weeks ago. nobody had told me. now they say - she had 6 months left. her husband had taken time off work and was largely spending time at home for the last 2 months or so, just in case something should happen. good man. but when something did happen, she was alone. like it is the norm in life.
~~~
she didn't hit me that afternoon for my disobedience. she was never unkind to me. but i knew all along that she didn't really care for me the way she cared for my sister. i have nothing against her for that. it's human to have favorites and she isn't the only one not to have picked me as hers. on feb 11, when they told me that she was alone in her house - alone when she looked at this world for the last time - alone as she left on her (perhaps terrifying) journey - there was only one word echoing inside my head.
love is such an inexplicable, unexpected emotion. it is like a sucker punch.
like fighting for air as one's drowning.
~~~
she was 53 or so they tell me.
