Mish' Fiction

Paritosh entered his home at five in the evening to the sound of his daughter’s frantic cries and the sight of a flustered Rupali.

“What happened? What does Meenu want?” Rupali was asking her and was looking around desperately, but she was unable to spot anything that could possibly be a problem. She turned around to go to the phone, probably to call him, when she ran into him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Sir. I can’t figure out. I was about to call you.”

“Meenu,” he rushed towards her. Rupali could not help noticing how he took efforts to stop himself from touching her. Something so counterintuitive to any parent whose child is crying. Picking her up and trying to calm her down would have been the obvious thing to do. But he didn’t do that. He couldn’t! The child may not like it. Rupali felt really bad for him. He looked at his daughter carefully, almost with the eyes of a detective. What was amiss?

Rupali saw him bending down and redoing her shoelaces. Meenal stopped crying. “The bow was lose,” he spoke as he turned towards a visibly relieved Rupali, “Just slightly. But…” It wasn’t anything she did, Rupali sent up a thousand thanks to God!

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” she said, “She was all right the entire day.”

Paritosh nodded, “It takes time to understand. There are too many things.” He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t blaming her. Rupali’s day was saved!

“Good evening, Meenu,” Paritosh turned his attention back to his daughter and greeted her. After a pause of few seconds, she responded by copying him. “Good evening, Meenu.”

Despite everything she had read about, including echolalia, something autistic children were prone too, that little exchange was jarring. In her own trying life, the one source of satisfaction and happiness she had was the affection of her brothers. When they smiled at her, or hugged her lovingly, or showed any signs of care for her, or expressed how much they missed her, the life became meaningful. Crushing down her own dreams to take care of them started making sense. If Sugata didn’t shout, and Soumitra didn’t frown, with worry, if they didn’t appreciate what she cooked for them, if their eyes didn’t glow with happiness when she got them a long-awaited gift, if they never talked to her about their school and friends, if they didn’t tell her that they wanted to make her proud, would she still be able to go through her life? Unlikely. Then what about Dr. Khanna? The one creature in the world he seemed to be living for and with, was incapable of showing emotions and affections.

She would have liked to offer some comfort to him, some assurance. But she remained tongue-tied about it. “Can I leave now, Dr. Khanna?” she asked.

“Yes. And I hadn’t expected that she would stay with you from day one like this. Good job.”

She was surprised. She had no expectations of a praise after he had found his daughter crying on coming home. But he understood!

“Th… thank you, Sir,” she stammered a little, “I will try to not disappoint you in future too.”

He nodded.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal said without looking at anyone as Rupali made to leave. She was distressed about the idea of her leaving.

Rupali kneeled before her and said, “I will come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Meenal repeated the last word. Rupali hoped that it meant she understood.

“We will play with play-dough.”

“We will play with play-dough.”

“Bye Meenu.”

“Bye Meenu.”

—

“I’m sorry for disturbing you on a Saturday, Ms. Banerjee, but Meenal is frantic. I think she has gotten used to seeing you at nine every day. I am unable to calm her down. Is it possible…” Paritosh’ voice drowned. He sounded so miserable that Rupali couldn’t have said no. But she was just frying pooris for her brothers. Their weekend treat!

“I can leave in another fifteen minutes, Sir,” she did a quick mental calculation and replied. Her brothers would have eaten by then.

“Thanks. I… We’ll wait for you.”

“And if you had to become a nanny, you couldn’t find any child in the world other than this mad girl?” Sugata was livid yet again as Rupali hurriedly dropped the fried pooris in their plates.

“She is not mad, Sugata,” Rupali replied and went back to the stove.

“And even if she were,” Soumitra added, “This is no way to talk about anyone. It’s not her fault that she is that way.”

“Is it our fault? Is it Didi’s fault?”

“It is nobody’s fault,” Rupali came with the next set of pooris, “Now, will you please focus on eating. Some hard work goes into making food. Show some respect.”

“I wish they would show some respect for our time. You had promised to come for cricket match,” Sugata whined.

“I am sorry,” Rupali softened, “But Sugata. You are lucky that you can express yourself. That little girl… When she feels something, she can’t even express it. She is crying incessantly for last one hour. She could have been your own sister.”

“Emotional blackmail,” he mumbled. He was obviously affected by her reasoning, but won’t admit it. Rupali suppressed a smile. He was a boy trying hard to become a man. All this aggression was a manifestation of that.

“Aren’t you going to eat before leaving?” Soumitra noticed her picking up her purse.

“Don’t worry about me. I will find something to eat. Do go to his cricket match, Soumitra. Please!”

“Okay, I will.”

—

To be continued

“Another job?” Sugata was livid, as Rupali had expected. He rebelled against everything, against their fate, against their poverty, against their losing their parents, without quite knowing what to do with that rebellion. At his heart he wasn’t any different from Soumitra, his twin, in worrying about his elder sister. But he expressed it differently. He expressed it with anger. Soumitra, at the same time, was frowning quietly. “Stop shouting Sugata,” he said.

“Why should I stop shouting? What does she think she is? Some superwoman? As it is, she took up the night shift at pharmacy because of some extra money. Now, she wants to work the day too. When will she sleep? Or eat? Or do anything that normal mortals do?”

“You should stop shouting because what you are saying is correct. But shouting won’t convince her otherwise.”

“Stop bickering the two of you,” Rupali said patiently. “Night shift starts at ten. This job will only be till five. In the evenings and mornings, I will get enough sleep. And I don’t even have to work here over the weekends. Dr. Khanna himself stays with her daughter. So, stop worrying.”

“Didi,” Soumitra spoke this time, “You don’t need to do this. We can also take up some part time jobs. And it’s not like we don’t have enough…”

“Part time job? With board exams to face next year. Have you gone crazy?” Rupali parroted her response. They had been through this so many times. When her parents were alive, they hadn’t allowed her to lift her fingers for anything. They weren’t rich. But they were comfortable. Her father worked hard at his private job, and provided for them. Nothing could come in the way of their studies. She was now responsible for her brothers. How could she let them work before completing their studies?

“Didi. We can’t just sit around and see you working yourself to death.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Soumitra,” she patted his head affectionately; “I am young enough right now. When will I work, if not now? Once you have finished your colleges and gotten good jobs, I would retire early and enjoy life like a queen. Just remember not to ignore me for your wives.” She chuckled.

“Didi!” Soumitra flushed.

“I’m joking. Anyway, isn’t it time for your tuition classes?”

“I’m not going,” Sugata was still seething, “Since you are going to work on behalf of the entire world, why should anyone else do any work? I will sleep, eat and make merry.”

“That’s enough of tantrums. Go out now; else I will make sure you never are able to step out of this house. Not for your cricket, not for your music band!” she had to be a tough parent at times. It appeared unnatural for her age, but had become her natural instinct. Taking charge of the twins, when they were barely eight-years old, and she herself was only eighteen, hadn’t been natural. Life hadn’t been easy in last six years either, but she had managed. Almost! Difficult as it had been, time had flown away fast. Next year Soumitra and Sugata would be writing their board exams. Another two years of school; and she wanted them to go to a good one; then college. Soumitra wanted to be an engineer. That wouldn’t come cheap. Sugata didn’t know what he wanted. He was interested in everything other than studies. That meant more uncertain career choices. He might need support for longer. And there was her own life too. She hadn’t grown old enough to not worry about it. Despite what she said, she had no plans of depending on her brothers even after they started earning. She had seen the disappointment of parents who tried depending on their children and the genuine conflicts and tensions it created.

She needed to earn and save more. Much more!

—

Rupali had read about autism and needs of autistic children over the weekend. But she was still nervous when she showed up for work. Paritosh’ anxiety was also obvious, although he was clearly a man of few words. He told her about Meenal’s routines and eccentricities. If food was not given to her at exactly the right time, she won’t eat it. She didn’t like being hugged. She was not to be picked up unless she herself asked. Her toys needed to be arranged in a particular order and she played with them according to some pattern only she knew about. “Call me, if she is at all distressed,” he said finally and Rupali nodded.

“Bye Meenu,” he bent down to take leave of his daughter. The softness and affection in his voice was impossible to miss.

“Bye Meenu,” Meenal repeated mechanically, saying her own name, instead of addressing her father.

Paritosh got up to leave. This must be her usual response!

“Mamma… Mamma…” she tugged at Rupali’s kurta as she followed Paritosh to close the door after him. It was awkward as usual. But Rupali hoped to see some reaction from Paritosh. Possibly a nervous, and embarrassed smile, but he gave none. He just looked at his daughter once, a look she didn’t return, and left.

—

To be continued

“Mamma…. Mamma…” Rupali was surprised by the faint tugging at her kurta. She turned around to find a little girl, about four years old, standing behind her in the aisle of the supermarket.

“I’m sorry,” a tall, handsome man in his thirties rushed towards them and pulled the girl away. He looked flustered.

“It’s okay,” Rupali replied, though feeling awkward by the way the girl had addressed her as ‘Mamma’. The man must be her father.

“Mamma… Mamma….” the girl repeated again. She was unusually unexpressive for her age. Her father made to turn away without explaining anything, when they were spotted by Meher.

“Good morning, Dr. Khanna,” she greeted the man.

“Meher,” he acknowledged her although he looked like he wanted to run away that very moment.

“Good to see you here. This is my friend, Rupali. Rupali Banerjee. Rupali. This is Dr. Paritosh Khanna. Our HOD…”

“Mamma…. Mamma…” the girl tentatively held out a hand towards Rupali, making her flush as badly as Paritosh.

Meher was surprised and looked questioningly at him. Now, he was forced to explain, “There is a TV show she watches. Children’s show. She identifies the mother of one of the kids on the show as Mamma. Your friend, Ms. Banerjee, looks similar to that actress.” Then he turned to Rupali and explained, “She is autistic. Please don’t mind. Have a good day.”

He walked away without waiting for them to react.

“Well… that was awkward,” said Rupali with a nervous smile.

“Yes but… This was extra ordinary, Rupali. Meenal, that’s Dr. Khanna’s daughter, can’t bear any strangers around. I am surprised he brought her for grocery shopping. But with you…”

“She just happened to find likeness in the face.” Rupali acted more nonchalant than she felt. The girl calling her ‘Mamma’ had touched something deep inside her.

“And that could be a boon. Didn’t you want a daytime job, Rupali?”

“So?”

“Dr. Khanna really needs someone to take care of Meenal. Her caretaker of last three years left recently. He has been through hell since then. He even has to take her to the classes with him, while he teaches. Thankfully he is teaching only one course this semester. But…”

“What about her mother?”

“She is dead.”

“Ohh!”

“I don’t know what his opinion would be, but I can propose it to him, if you want.”

Babysitting couldn’t possibly pay as much as she needed. But that girl… “I think it is worth the try,” she mumbled.

“I must warn you about something though.”

“What is it?”

“He isn’t the best employer. His students as well as the department’s staff are on a high alert when he is around. I can sympathize. Life has not been easy on him. But still… I must warn you.”

“We’ll see if the job works out at all.”

“Yeah. Good idea. I will let you know.”

They finished paying for their groceries and came out of the supermarket.

—

“This job is difficult. Why do you think you can do it?” Paritosh asked her. He had almost raised this objection when Meher had told him about the possibility of Rupali becoming Meenal’s caretaker. The earlier caretaker had come before Meenal’s problems were evident and diagnosed.  After she left, Paritosh didn’t think another nanny would be enough. He would have to employ a trained psychologist, or probably leave her in some care centre for the day. But then he decided to talk to Rupali once. If Meenal identifying her as her favorite character was not a one-time aberration, it might just work.

“I have taken care of my twin brothers since they were eight-years old, Sir. I am patient with children.” She looked at Meenal who was playing with play-dough sitting at some distance from them, unaware of her presence.

“They were normal children.”

“You, of all the people, should not be talking about normal and abnormal, Dr. Khanna. She is just different…”

“It doesn’t matter what the experts on Internet say, Ms. Banerjee, or what I say, this is what the world says about her. Even her mother… Anyway. Point is, it is more difficult than handling other children.”

Something drew Meenal’s attention towards them at that very moment.

“Mamma… Mamma…” she said in the same tone as earlier. She didn’t make any attempts to move though. Rupali smiled at her and stretched her hand towards her, indicating her to come closer. Paritosh looked on impassively, as Meenal got up and walked towards Rupali. She touched her outstretched hand once, but did not hold it. Rupali smiled and pulled her hands away.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal rocked herself while standing there. Rupali made to hold her, when Paritosh stopped her, “Don’t hug her. She doesn’t like that.”

“Okay,” Rupali suppressed her irritation at Paritosh’ tone and just stretched her hands once again towards Meenal. This time she held it.

“She will help me, Sir,” Rupali looked at Paritosh and said, “If you would give me a chance.”

He let out a quick sigh and said, “Fine. When can you start?”

“From today, if you want.”

“I am here on weekends. You can come from Monday.”

“Sure Sir.” Rupali’s felt like a burden was taken off her. Something told her that the little girl needed her. If her father hadn’t agreed… But now the practical side of the arrangement started nagging her. “Sir… Just one thing…”

“What is it?”

“Salary?”

“How much do you expect?”

“This is the first time I am taking up such a job. If you could tell me how much were you paying her earlier caretaker…”

“Ten thousands a month.”

Rupali gulped. She was expecting much less. And that’s why was apprehensive about taking up the job. If she could push him up a bit further, she would be able to meet her target salary.

“Sir. I don’t mind putting in extra hours, or working on weekends. But I need fifteen…”

Paritosh frowned and Rupali fidgeted. He must be thinking of her as an opportunist. Taking advantage of the fact that his autistic daughter had taken to her. But what could she do? She had to be…

“If you are indeed able to take care of her, I will pay you fifteen. But you have to prove yourself. To her, not to me.”

“Yes Sir. I will do my best, Sir.”

“Fine. Monday. At nine in the morning.”

—

To be continued