Aami

The dust ball flew into his face as he thought of Aami. He should not have yelled at her. A twenty-two-year-old with no mother and an out-of-luck father. All she wanted was to study further. But Pandu was out of options and more importantly, money. He cursed many things these days. A small dust ball or two in the dry, agrarian town of Palkhed^1 was usually only an annoyance. But not today. He shook off the bits of desiccated hay and soil from his face. After only one step forward he fell on his knees and bawled. The October sun lashed his back with heat as if whipping him for committing fraud.

Pandu wondered how he had any tears left. Streaming down his cheeks, it seemed a waste they fall into this cursed land and disappear. Images danced in his head as he closed his watery, tired eyes: Bhau^2, the lender, and his due dates, Aami asking about college fees, Aami hearing Bhau’s threat with shocking equanimity, Aami withdrawing her graduate study application without so much as flinching after he lost his temper.

His mind was bursting with thoughts. It was just easier talking to the soil aloud.

“What else could I have said to Aami? This is the third consecutive failed harvest! The farm is drier than a dried date. She is home because we have no money to pay for her college. Yet, she complains not. I must sell this farm! This cursed, pathetic piece of hell! My cursed, pathetic piece of hell. A continuous chain of ownership of seven generations broken by me. What will my ancestors think? Chhatrapati Shivaji^3 himself granted them this land for their service in the army. And now this!”

He trudged back home. Aami looked up from her books.

“Don’t worry father. There are many grants”, said Aami, “the government is doing a lot. I’ll ask the Grants Officer tomorrow when I go to meet Rita”

“Rita has no brains and the Government has no shame!”

But Aami only laughed. He watched her laugh. It was the same since she was two. An unfettered, loud laugh. Just like her mother’s. Then Pandu was sad again and retired to bed, grumbling. He knew Aami would now take her tools and go into the farm, digging and brushing and who knows what else. She called it arche-something. He recalled their conversation seven years ago.

“And what is it you said you wanted to be…. arche…what?”

“An archaeologist, father. I’ll be excavating artifacts from the ground so I can study human history! Our great state has seen so many kings and battles!”

“So, you’ll keep digging the wretched soil like your old man, then?”

“Haha! Well, I’m your daughter after all!”

“Will you get paid as well as Malti?”

“My work will be better remembered than Malti’s.”

Pandu remembered how he had started to say something but did not. Her mother never liked it. Well, she’s gone now, he thought with bitterness. Why not be a receptionist like Malti, he thought. The big businesses in cities need someone for their letters and meetings and chai^4. Then she could go to Mumbai and send money. This soil has given me nothing but pain. Only my pride keeps me from selling it, he lamented and soon drifted into a dinner-less sleep.

Bhau had come to visit Pandu the next morning. He always seated himself on the rocking chair on Pandu’s porch. Then he reclined to an almost horizontal position with his arms folded behind his head. Aami felt deep concern for the poor porch chair.

“Chai”, he said first thing. That’s what he always said first.

“Of course, Bhau. Aami! Can you…”

“Already made, father. Namaskar^5 Bhau, here it is.”

Bhau felt uncomfortable around Aami. She seemed to always look him straight in the eyes when she responded. The other farm girls knew better than to even talk back. The girl is a little too smart for her own good, he thought as he eyed her over his vast, ant-mound-like tummy. Lucky if she even gets a husband. Maybe I can use that. He always scratched his large tummy when he thought of good leverage.

“Say what, Pandu. Aami is a bright …er … lady and she’s not getting younger. You worry about her marriage, don’t you? You know … the costs of the event, the dowry and what not?“

Pandu said nothing but his breathing became heavy. Aami narrowed her eyes.

“How about you make me the owner of this farm? It’s barren anyway. I’ll cover the wedding costs and forgo your debt. Two birds with one stone, eh? “

“Bhau, Aami wants to study. And this land … it’s sacred to me. It has been with us since Chhatrapati Shi …“

“Enough with the Shivaji nonsense! Is His Highness going to pay your debts?! You have far exceeded your credit limits, Pandu. Do you know I can have you arrested?“

“But all the farmers are going through a rough patch. You must reconsider your rates.“

But Bhau had already stormed off the porch and slipped into his Toyota Landcruiser. Pandu retreated to his room. Aami stood rooted where she had seen the whole exchange. She knew there were several debt forgiveness programs for farmers. She also knew it was bad publicity for Bhau to demand repayment from farmers under duress. But Father has too much pride in our heritage to appeal for relief, she thought. It did not matter. She had a much bigger plan brewing.

This is where Mother made all the difference, she thought as she smiled at her photo. It was Mother who insisted Aami finish her bachelor’s degree in archaeology. It was Mother who realized the prestige of getting accepted at the University of Nashik. And it was she who worked herself to death as a domestic help at Bhau’s home. Your gift is almost ready, Aami said to her photo frame.

******

It was a cool November day when Pandu woke up to commotion outside his home. Reporters, lots of them. Is credit default of a small farmer that big an event, wondered Pandu. The media blows up everything these days, he thought. He did not know whether to laugh or cry. Aami was gone for a week. Some “reports” at the University. It’s better she didn’t see me like this in any case. Pandu bowed to all the deities in his home and stepped out. The reporters shifted about, nudging each other out of the way. Pandu looked at them, not understanding what it is they wanted to know and also how they could wear suits in this weather. He turned to King Shivaji’s portrait on the porch wall and stood in front of it for a long time. Then he knelt on the porch in front of it and started mumbling, tears streaming down his hollow cheeks.

“As you can see…”, yelled one young man, startling Pandu out of his reverie. “Pandurang Holkar, the owner of the now-famous site genuflects in front of the Great King Shivaji. He hasn’t let fame get to his head. This is the kind of level-headedness celebrities should have. This is Suraj Kumar reporting from Pakhled, live for Nashik TV.“

“It’s Palkhed”, corrected Pandu, “and where is Bhau?”

“Bhau?…Mr. Holkar, you must be proud of your daughter!” a BBC reporter asked in crisp English.

“Huh?“

“Father!” exclaimed Pandu, relieved to see Aami stepping out of an autorickshaw.

“Oh, my child. What is happening? I came out to surrender myself and they are asking strange questions in English.“

“No one is going to arrest you, father. I wouldn’t let them. I had no time to tell you. The dry, hot air allowed me to finish my excavations — er … digs, digs. Remember the procedure I explained?“

“Not at all. But go on.“

“It turns out that our ancestor Malhar Rao Holkar was a general in the famous Battle of Palkhed^6 and — “

“Oh, I knew that, Aami. But why are these people here pointing cameras at us?“

“Because I found the sword of Peshwa Baji Rao^7, the First.“

Pandu paused for several seconds.

“Really?” said he said finally. It had only just sunk in how important the discovery was.

“Yes, father. It will now become a UNESCO World Heritage Site because we are likely to unearth more artifacts.“

“I don’t understand all that. But tell me this: can we keep this farm, and will you make money from this?“

“Not the farm. But neither can Bhau! We’ll get a sizeable reward for the discovery and I’ll get a full scholarship at university.” she gushed.

Pandu paused. He looked at his daughter for the longest time. Her mother’s unending patience and diligence shone through Aami’s eyes. Everything he loved about her all came back through Aami’s calm face. The land was going to the same place it came from: the annals of royal history. Pandu’s wrinkled face revealed a smile for the first time in many years.

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[1] Palkhed is a small town in the western Indian state of Maharashtra

[2] Bhau is not a name but a Marathi honorific meaning “brother”

[3] “Chhatrapati” means Emperor in Marathi. Shivaji was the 17th century founder of the Maratha Empire and a national icon.

[4] Popular Indian hot beverage in which the milk is boiled along with black tea and spices like cardamom, ginger and saffron.

[5] A variant of namaste used in western India.

[6] A battle that ended in decisive victory of the Maratha Empire

[7] Peshwa was a term for Shivaji’s generals. In this case, Baji Rao I was one of the most well-known ones who expanded the Maratha Empire