Love, Chapatis and Kheema

“Viji come and have your dinner before it becomes cold.” Mrs Usha called out to her only daughter. Mrs Usha was a widow in her early 50s. Her husband Mr Samy died in a tragic accident over a year ago. Their only child, Viji, lived with her.

The petite girl in her late 20s walked over to the kitchen and joined her mother at the foldable white dining table. There were three chairs at the table and three sets of stainless-steel plates and cups.

“You should wipe your hair dry after shower Viji or you would catch a cold. Why don’t you just cut it a bit shorter? Nevermind. You must be hungry. Come and eat your favourite chapatis with vegetable kheema.” Said Mrs Usha.

At the center of the table was a glass plate stacked with piping hot chapatis. The small bowl next to it was filled with vegetable kheema. 

“It’s the end of the month, isn’t it? Just hang in there Amma. I am due for that promotion, and I promise to make life better for us.” Viji would always console her Mother when they almost ran out of food. 

Mrs Usha placed a chapati and some kheema on Viji’s plate. The smell of margarine that she had spread on the chapatis filled the one-bedroom flat which Mr Samy had left for them when he died. It was cramped, but they were happy. 

Mrs Usha ate her plain chapati so that Viji could have the kheema. Mrs Usha watched as Viji dipped a small piece of chapati into the kheema and extended it to her. She bent forward and ate it. Tears welled in Mrs Usha’s eyes. 

After dinner, Viji sat on the tabletop while Mrs Usha washed the dishes and dried them with a towel. Mrs Usha would never allow her daughter to lift a finger in the house, but Viji would insist. Mrs Usha’s relatives and friends would comment that she spoilt her, but Mrs Usha loved her daughter too much to be bothered. 

Mrs Usha made herself a cup of black tea. Viji watched her. They sat at the dining table until Mrs Usha finished her coffee, and then headed to bed. Mrs Usha covered Viji with a blanket before she lay next to her and slept off.

The next morning, Mrs Usha was up by 4am. She meditated for about half an hour. Viji then joined her mother in front of their small altar which they placed on a small cabinet in the living room.  They stood in front of the altar and prayed to the framed pictures of Lord Venkateswara, Lord Ganesha and Goddess Lakshmi.

Mrs Usha lit a camphor on the camphor aarti, held the handle and moved it clockwise in front of the pictures three times. She then placed her palms together and said her prayers. She then applied some Vibuti for herself and on Viji’s forehead. Mrs Usha then turned towards Mr Samy’s picture on the wall next to the altar. She teared when she looked at Mr Samy’s photo. 

Mr Samy died in an accident on his way to work. It claimed his and the driver’s life on the spot. It was a dark day for Mrs Usha. They were a close-knit family and spent a lot of time together. Mr Samy worked relentlessly for their happiness. Mrs Usha was very heartbroken that he left her so soon. She was very dependent on him. He took care of her like a queen. 

“You need to let me do some work Samy.” She would argue.

“As long as I am alive, I will make sure that I keep you like a queen.” He would say.

Things changed after Mr Samy’s death. Mrs Usha had to step out of her comfort zone and earn a living. Thanks to her father, she had acquired tailoring skills when she was 16. 

“You must have at least one skill to survive in this world Usha. Use that one skill and live your life well.” He would advise her. 

Mrs Usha fell in love against her father’s approval and left home to his disappointment. She never saw her parents after her marriage, and they had since passed on. She missed them.

After their morning prayers, the two ladies enjoyed some homemade masala chai and plain bun. Mrs Usha filled Viji’s stainless-steel tiffin with some upma and placed it next to Viji’s handbag.

It was almost 7.30 in the morning. Viji was getting ready to leave for work. Mrs Usha suggested that they both went for a holiday together.

“We have not been anywhere since Appa left us. I thought it would be nice. I spoke to Nisha, and she mentioned that you always wanted to visit Kodaikanal and even had a checklist of the places that you wanted to visit there when you were in college. You never told me! Nisha mentioned that it is also the Kurunji Malar season. You only get to see it every twelve years. Aunty Rani has also agreed to accompany us. But it’s okay if you don’t want to go.” 

Their neighbour Mrs Rani was an elderly nursing home manager. She lived with her husband, and he too worked at the same nursing home. She was a very caring lady.

“Viji smiled and nodded at Mrs Usha’s suggestion. She hugged her mother tight.”

Mrs Usha accompanied Viji to her blue Vespa that was parked on the ground floor and placed Viji’s tiffin in the front basket. The vespa was a gift from Mr Samy when Viji graduated, and she loved it. She would give him a ride to work on her Vespa whenever he needed one. 

“I have a lot of blouses to sew today. You better get going. Becareful!” Mrs Usha waved as Viji left for work. She stood there and waved until she could no longer see Viji. 

“Usha? What are you doing down here?” Asked Mrs Rani who walked by.

“Ah hello Mrs Rani. I came to send Viji off to work.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Here, I bought some mangoes from the market. Have some. I heard they are really sweet.”

“Thank you, Mrs Rani. You have been so kind to us. I don’t know how I am ever going to pay you back.”

“Don’t say that Usha. We have known each other for so many years. What are friends for if we don’t help each other?”

Mrs Rani walked towards the flight of stairs, turned, and looked at Mrs Usha who was still standing there looking at the bag of mangoes. She envied Mrs Usha’s love for her daughter.

Mrs Usha rinsed the mangoes when she went home. She placed one for Lord Ganesha and two near Mr Samy’s picture. She would usually remove them the next morning and either make Viji a cup of lassi or use them for the curries that she cooked. She recalled how Mr Samy would bring home mangoes from his office whenever his boss who owned a mango plantation distributed them at the office. Mr Samy would save every fruit for Viji because she loved them.

Time passed very fast that day. Mrs Usha completed almost all her saree blouse orders and waited for her customers to pick them up.

It was almost 5pm. She picked up the phone and dialed Viji’s number.

“Did you eat? What time will you be back? Why so late? I have some mangoes for you.”

“It was good. I managed to finish all the orders. Are you sure you are okay to go? That’s great. I will ask Nisha to send her driver then. We can leave in the morning! Come home soon. I am feeling bored without you.” A smile broke on Mrs Usha’s face. She hung up and started packing for their trip.

After her last customer had picked up the blouse, Mrs Usha went over to Mrs Rani’s house and updated her about the trip. She then called Nisha and made the necessary arrangements.

It was almost 7pm. Mrs Usha took the stairs to the ground floor of their flats and waited for Viji. Is she back yet Usha?” Mrs Rani called out from her balcony on the first floor.

“Not yet.” Replied Mrs Usha who was clad in her maxi dress. Her long hair was tied neatly into a ponytail.

Mrs Usha waved when she saw Viji enter the compound. She hugged and took her tiffin bag. 

“I have packed us both some clothes Viji. Just check if you are okay with my selection.”

They had hot chapatis with channa masala for dinner that night and headed to bed early.

Mrs Usha could tell that Viji was so excited.

            It was 4am. Mrs Usha showered and went to her altar. She removed the mangoes and placed them aside. She then said her prayers. Viji joined her like she did every morning. 

“God, please have mercy on me. No one should go through what I have been through. No one should feel this lonely.” Mrs Usha then applied the vibuthi on Viji’s and then her own forehead. She turned to Mr Samy’s photo. 

“Always keep an eye on us Samy, especially Viji. I miss you terribly.” She knelt on the floor and bowed forward to seek his blessings. 

After the prayers, she made some sweet mango lassi in a big water container for the trip.

            She also packed some leftover chapatis and channa masala. Nisha’s driver arrived at 8 that morning. 

“Viji, I think the driver is here. Let’s go. Mrs Rani is waiting too.”

            Mrs Usha waited for Viji to step out and then she locked up the door before they headed downstairs.

            The journey from Chennai to Kodaikanal would take 8 and a half hours. They decided to stop at Theni for the night. They stayed at Sivas Regency. They were exhausted from the journey, freshened up, had some bread and went to bed.

            They woke up to a gloomy morning. Mrs Usha decided to let Viji sleep a little longer and joined Mrs Rani for breakfast at a tiffin shop next door. The masala chai was one of the best that she had tasted. A waiter walked over with a plate of fluffy idlis served with mint and coconut chutney. The two ladies enjoyed their breakfast.

            “This chai is so good. The taste of cardamom in this chai is so different from what we got in Chennai don’t you think?”

            “That’s because Theni is the cardamom city.” Replied Mrs Rani. “The cardamom is definitely fresher.”

“Did you know that Viji makes very good Chai too?” Mrs Usha boasted.

            “You love your daughter so much don’t you Usha?” Smiled Mrs Rani.

            “Of course. She is my life. I can’t imagine a life without her.”

            “Don’t get me wrong Usha. We mothers sometimes tend to get so attached to our children that it becomes hard to let go. I understand that it is not easy especially without Samy around, but you must train yourself to do so. For yourself and for her.”

             “I am actually quite full. Shall we head back to the room? I need to check on Viji. We have a long journey.” Mrs Usha snubbed Mrs Rani and finished up her chai. She then got up and went to wash her hands.

            Mrs Rani shook her head and sighed. Mrs Usha’s possessiveness worsened after Mr Samy died. She clung on to Viji and would not let go. She would not even eat her dinner without Viji around. Mrs Rani had tried to speak to Mrs Usha several times, but she would not listen.

The driver and Viji were waiting for them at the hotel lobby when they came back from breakfast. Mrs Usha waved at Viji.

“We had the best masala chai Viji.” She told her daughter.

They loaded their bags into the car and continued their journey to Kodaikanal. Mrs Usha was quiet throughout the journey. 

The view of Theni was breathtaking. The mountains and lush green land gave a sense of freshness. Mrs Usha watched Viji who sat at the front passenger seat and quietly enjoyed her scenery. 

Viji loved adventure. She was always outdoors with Mr Samy. Her favourite place to visit was always Thirupathi. Mr Samy would save much of his earnings to take Viji to Thirupathi each year. She always talked about their many trips across the seven hills to get the blessings of Lord Venkateswara. She would breakdown each time she stood in front of his statue, overwhelmed with emotions. She enjoyed travelling with Mr Samy, and both daughter and father bonded over the famous Pulihora or tamarind rice amongst other things. They were extremely close. The last trip there was just a few months before Mr Samy died. 

They pulled over at the famous Suruli falls. Mrs Usha got off the car and walked over to a small stall nearby. An elderly wrinkled lady draped in a red saree and wearing a flower design nose stud greeted her. Her hair was fully gray and tied into a very thin ponytail with an elastic band. She was selling hot roasted kadele (chickpeas).

“Va Thaye”. She welcomed Mrs Usha in Tamil. 

Mrs Usha greeted her back and ordered a normal and two spicy flavoured kadele. The lady took a cone made from brown paper and filled it with a few scoops of India’s favourite snack. She then prepared two more cones.  

Mrs Usha took some coins from her yellow fabric purse which Viji had bought for her from Rajasthan and walked back to the car with three cones of the kadele. She handed one each to the driver and Mrs Rani and shared one with Viji. Their driver, Mr Kesavan smiled at Mrs Usha and thanked her for the snack. The journey was filled with crisp crunch sound as each enjoyed their snack.

They arrived in Kodaikanal at about 11am. Nisha was waiting for them at the hotel lobby. Nisha was Viji’s childhood friend, and she managed a tea plantation in Kodaikanal. Nisha ran and hugged Mrs Usha as soon as she saw her step into the hotel.  

“I have not seen you in such a long time Ma, since….” She choked and said emotionally as tears welled up in her eyes. 

            “Why are you crying? See, I am all fine now. She looks so gorgeous, doesn’t she Viji? Look at her Mrs Rani.”

            Viji nodded and hugged them. 

A teary eyed Mrs Rani watched them from afar.

After lunch, they headed out to see the Kurunji Malar. Viji was in awe and grabbed Mrs Usha’s hands and jumped in joy at the sight of the shrubs that filled almost an entire hill. The bright blue bell-shaped flower bloomed on the roadside and on top of the hills. It looked almost like the lavender fields. Mrs Usha was amused by her daughter’s excitement and laughed away, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. It was indeed a lovely sight.

            “I know how much you had always wanted to see these flowers.” Mrs Usha said to Viji. 

The next two days were spent sightseeing in Kodaikanal. Nisha took them to all the places that Viji had wanted to visit. 

On the morning before they left Kodaikanal, Nisha handed Mrs Usha a neatly wrapped box. 

“What is this?” Mrs Usha asked her.

“Open it as soon as you go home Ma.” Nisha replied.

Mrs Usha hugged Nisha tight. Viji stood near the car. Mrs Usha and Nisha knew that Viji hated goodbyes. They got into the car, waved at Nisha, and headed back home. Mrs Rani held Mrs Usha’s hands in the car and smiled at her. 

“You are such an amazing mother.” She told her.

Mrs Usha looked at Viji at the passenger seat and Viji smiled back at her.

The house was exceptionally quiet when Mrs Usha stepped in. She turned on the lights and placed the suitcase on the bed. She was very exhausted from her trip, but her heart was full. 

Mrs Rani had gone back home too. She would join Mrs Usha after she had freshened up. Mrs Usha had wanted her to also see what was in the box that Nisha had passed to her.

“Go and shower first Viji. I will unpack and we can then pray.”

They were at the altar when Mrs Rani joined them. After the prayers, Mrs Usha turned to the box which she had placed on the coffee table. They sat on the floor cross legged. She unpacked the box. There were two things. A diary with Viji’s name on it and a packet of Kurunji flowers.

There was also note from Nisha which read. 

“Ma, please place the Kurunji flowers in front of Viji’s photo. I miss her very much and I was so happy to see you. I am sure she is very happily dancing away in heaven. The diary is for you. She never failed to pen down her love and stories for you and Appa every day when she was at college. She wanted me to give this to you should something happen to her one day. She did not want you to be alone.”

Mrs Usha started sobbing inconsolably. Mrs Rani hugged her and helped her up. They walked towards Viji’s photo that hung next to Mr Samy’s. Mrs Usha placed the flowers in front of her one at a time.

“I wish you did not have to drop your father off that day. I wish you had both listened to me and stayed at home that day. You will always be with me, my daughter. We will always enjoy the chapatis and kheema together. I love you.” Mrs Rani placed her hands around Mrs Usha and let her cry.