Ritu Siddharth
Mrs.Susan was making a crochet doily for her neighbours. Susan along with her husband Lenin moved into this house soon after their marriage 30 yrs ago . The Ramanans and Lenins were good neighbors ever since. They moved freely with each other and shared foods , gifts, opinions, festivals and much more.
Susan was living on her husband’s pension, a comfortable one for a single old lady.
Every alternate day she walked to the market to fetch fresh vegetables and fruits, to last 2 days.
One day she met a gentleman, purely coincidental. She helped him sort fresh ones from heap of mixed fruits. “These’re fresh ones “, she handed him a small basket of fresh oranges. He accepted , a little puzzled.
At another time she helped him with cucumber and tomatoes.
Once more she met him in the local train. “Hello madam! You’re leaving behind your package”, he called out as she was getting down.
“O thank you so much, dear”, she said with much gratitude. She could have lost a garment worth Rs. 1600 in a trifle moment.
They met frequently in different parts and situations each time showing more recognition than previous times.
“We’re seeing each other frequently”, he observed.
“Ya I thought so too! Maybe we’d seen each other earlier but took no notice”, she said.
“I think so too”, he observed.
Thursday: They met in local train. He grinned a welcome. She smiled back and sat beside him..
“My name’s Kripakaran, friends call me Karan. I stay in Lakshmipuram.
“I’m Susan, live in Gandhi Bagh. You cross the main road and it’s Lakshmipuram”, she added.
He nodded in agreement.
They got down, walked some distance, , parted at the intersection..
Saturday: Susan was cutting vegetables for lunch. Buzzer sounded. She opened the door to find Mr. Karan, wiping sweat off his face, relieved that it was her house at last.
Her house had tall fencing bordered with bushy plants that cut off view from surroundings.
“Ho! Come in sir”, she welcomed him into the hall. He walked straight upto the settee.
“Be seated sir, I’ll get some tea if you’ll accept”, she looked at him askance.
“No Problem”, he said.
Soon they sipped their tea.
“ I was just going this way, …thought I’ll meet you”, he said.
She told about herself. “We shifted here soon after our marriage, Lenin and myself. He was an Indian, I’m Anglo-Indian.He was a government employee. Time ran smooth and nice until one day he was killed while crossing the road…Lord’s verdict.”
“You live here all alone …!”he remarked.
“No, not exactly, I listen to music, songs, watch TV at short intervals, I do lot of knitting and crochet”, she said pointing to the table tops and back flaps on sofas.
“Tell me about yourself sir”.
“I work in a private firm, my salary is good. My wife took away my son when he was five years old. I’m single since then”, he finished.
“Do you go to see your son?”
“I tried a few times, his mother was furious, she didn’t want me to have any link with him”.
“You could’ve filed a suit”.
“No…I wasn’t interested…I knew he was well…that’s enough, he must be twenty five now, perhaps married and employed”.
“You’d be feeling lonely…”.
“Yes..sometimes…no often… but then what to do? God’s written destiny”, he finished.
“O dear”, her face wrinkled with emotion.
“Come to my house when you feel like, you’re welcome”.
“O..thank you”, she acknowledged.
Mr. Karan brought sweets for Diwali.
“Happy Dipavali to you sir”, she greeted.
“Don’t make me feel distant; call me Karan like my friends”, he insisted.
“Ok, ok “, she laughed.
She took ¼ kg cake to him. “Sorry, had to give the neighbors also….managed only a small portion for you”, she was apologetic.
“Oh, this’s enough for a single human”, he laughed.
“Happy Christmas”.
“Thank you, I made this cake myself , I always do, you know!”.
“It tastes good…like bakery-made!”he overtly appreciated her effort. She grinned showing her off- white teeth.
She saw him struggling in his kitchen.
“What’re you cooking? Let me help “, she said, tying a towel round her waist she plunged in to work. In 45 mins rice, dal, curry and dessert were ready.
“Join me in the meal”, he invited.
She made no fuss. “Eating my own cooking”, she jested.
For the first time he longed for someone to do the cooking.
“Wish you’d stay for tea also”, he said, after they finished lunch.
“Some other day… thanks for the lunch “, she moved.
He slept well that night.
“Happy New Year”, he wished her and gave her a sleek gift packet.
“Thank you, can I open now?” she asked.
“Yes if you wish to”, he wanted to see her expression when she opened.
She took off the cover.. A mobile phone.
“Ah! Thank you so much , but I have no need for a phone.
“Don’t say that..it’s an essential commodity; few years from now you may not be able to go out as frequently as now, you can order from home, numbers of hospital, ambulance,bank are stored in it. You can add grocery’s , supermarket’s, tailor’s etc …and my no. too in the list.
“So thoughtful of you”, she was overwhelmed.
He was pleased to see the old woman’s facial crease disappear as she smiled in genuine mirth.
“What can I give you! I’m so sorry I never thought of gifts”, she sought to be excused.
“Give me a rose from your garden, that’ll suffice”, he suggested.
She walked briskly with a hunch of a 60 year old ,her bobbed hair with natural curls waving in the breeze.
“Happy New year , Karan”, she extended the rose.
That’s nice”, he remarked,looking young for his 58 yrs.
“Just a moment , be seated”, she said switching on the tv to keep him engaged and disappeared into the kitchen.
½ an hr later she returned; they watched tv for a while, together. She excused herself into the kitchen again. A nice aroma spread into the hall. 10 mins later she brought out a steaming cake. “What’re you doing “, he followed her into the kitchen.
“Help me take these “, she requested. “He carried the tray containing teapot and 2 sets of cups. Together they cut the cake , “For welcoming the new year”, she said. She cut out a pyramid of cake and packed the rest for him to take home.
“Nice of you ,…..are you free on Saturdays and Sundays?” he asked simply.
“I’m always free , Why?” she anwered with a question.
“Shall we go out somewhere , say to the beach?”
So beach became their regular visiting spot.
They enjoyed the waves, wet sand, shells, spraying droplets and being together.
He talked more than her.
He serviced his bike himself , that was his only pastime, that kept him occupied every 3 months. Time rolled on until he met this lady with whom he was very much at ease.
He came frequently to her house; her neighbors began to eye her suspiciously.
One day Mrs Ramanan mustered courage to ask, “Susan, a man comes to your house often, is he your relative?”
“No , he’s acquaintance..a good gentleman”.
“He comes so frequently and you go out with him on his bike….so I asked”.
“I know people can mistake us”, Susan said.
From then on the Ramanans refused to share anything with Susan.
One day Susan went to the pharmacy to get tablets for headache. On her way back she tripped and fell on the gravel and grazed her knees.
“You could’ve phoned me , you old woman! I would’ve got the tablets on my way from office”, Karan was angry.
“O , it’ll heal in a few days ‘, she said softly.
“Did you get tetanus toxoid injection?”
“No”.
“Come along now, to the doctor, get it dressed”, he insisted , took her to the nearest doctor.
She had difficulty in walking with her knees bandaged; he helped her into her house while the Ramanans and others watched the old pair.
Gradually the neighbors broke off all connections with Susan.
“Was getting bored at home …so thought will visit you…how’re you Karan?”, Susan sat on the stool in his veranda, tired after the walk. It was good to feel someone cared for you and there was someone ready to put aside his work to listen and give some of his time to you.
Their closeness grew. Karan visited her when he did not hear from her for a day…she left several missed calls if she did not hear from him for 5hrs at a stretch. Frequently one of them had a meal in the other’s house , both enjoyed it immensely.
Karan retired from his job. She helped him in his financial matters as his management took 2 months to make his final settlement. They spent more time together , he now having no commitment .
Vijaya had heard from a source of her ex-husband having an affair with an old lady. Susan traced her address , knocked on her door one evening.
“I’m Mrs.Lenin, Mr. Kripakaran is a very good friend of mine. I have talked with him, he appears to miss his son… and you too, I think, though he hasn’t spoken outwardly about it”.
“I half wanted to meet you myself”, said Vijaya, when Susan introduced herself.
“Do you have any particular message for me?”Susan inquired.
“No”.Her son was with her; he was disinclined to see her in his house , talking to his very mother.
“” I came mainly to talk about Mr. Karunakaran. Poor man, he’s been torn away from what he considered was his family, leaving him all alone for 26 long years… none to care for him when he was indisposed, none to share his grief nor happiness, none by him on a festival, none to say happy dipavali or happy new year, none to rejoice sincerely with him when he got a promotion, worse of it all , he can not see his own son when he wants to…sister, it’s longer and worse than life imprisonment. I know how bad it feels to be alone in the enclosure of a room without the nearness of a human…because I’m a widow. You should see him once.. as a friend…without renewing old relationship if that irks you. Trust me, you’d be giving him heaven”.
Vijaya continued to look at the ground, speechless, while her son seemed to be moved.
“Yes ma, I think she’s right, let’s see him once…atleast I should see him”.
“Hope the new year will fetch brightness and happiness and reunion in your family” Susan rose to leave. “Here keep this number , call him when you re at ease”.
“Come often”, Kapil had lost his earlier impudence , his mother smiled ruefully.
“Where were you Susi, I tried so many times!…your phone was switched off!”his tone carried small proportions of annoyance, anxiety, expectation, disappointment,worry.
“Karan ! I have a surprise for you this new year.. keep racking your head… you will love it immensely”, she replied him.
She went to the church that Sunday and thanked her Lord for everything He had arranged.
2 months later Karan rang and told his friend Susan, “I have news for you. My son and his mother spoke to me this noon. They wanted my address!...I don’t know how they got my number!”, he was excited.
“Ah! That’s good news indeed…I’m happy for you…What next? Have a celebration with them!” she spoke cheerfully.
2 weeks later, Karan tried to contact Susan; there was no reply. He decided to find out in person. The Ramanans watched him enter the house. Her door was not properly closed; the metal vase was on the floor; the table cloth clutched in her hand, half drawn over her leg, one hand on her chest, she was lying on the sofa, motionless….she had died of heart attack. He now recalled her going breathless after a short walk, and both had not considered it as serious. Karan stood paralyzed for sometime. Soon he informed the neighbors and church. By 4 pm she was laid to rest.
3 weeks later he received an envelope from the lawyer..it carried the will of Susan.
‘I, Susan Lenin , resident of GandhiBagh, do hereby write my will ,in fully conscious state of mind and free will, that I wish to give No.28,VI street, GandhiBagh,the house I now reside, to Mr. M.Kripakaran, s/o Sri S. Manimaran ,resident of No.5, III st, Lakshmipuram, my good friend, and Rs.15 lakhs from my bank a/c after my demise.The rest of the bank a/c Rs40 lakhs be given to orphanage in the city’.signed Susan Lenin.dt 10/06/ 1998.
The same day Karan received a call from his son, “Dad, can we come to see you today?”
..Concluded.