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COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

Sitara was looking out of her kitchen window while chopping vegetables. She always did so when she went about her chores in the kitchen.  The sight that met her eyes was beatific. The coconut tree with its large splitting green leaves swaying majestically amidst the azure sky, the mango tree on which birds rested their nimble limbs and chirped excitedly, the perky squirrels that simply flew up and down the branches at such speed that Sitara was always amazed at their agility - the sight brought her inexplicable joy and made her feel grateful for all her blessings in life- her doting husband, her two cherubs and their lovely house she was so proud of.

Sitara had completed all her chores early today and was happily looking forward to a few relaxing hours. She thought she would watch a movie on her home theatre;  after all the next day was Saturday and she would be extra busy for two days with everyone at home, so she would make the most of her time today…… The phone rang, shaking her out of her reverie. She glanced at the clock and thought, ‘Who could it be? My friends are all busy at this hour. Now, I wonder if someone's coming again! ‘She thought with a shudder as she went to pick up the receiver. She said, 'Hello, yes mamaji? Tomorrow? No, we are not going anywhere. Sure Rajeev will be there to pick you all up. No, it won't be a bother. Yes, we will see you tomorrow then.' She replaced the receiver and sat down desolately.

'Just when I was going to relax! Why on earth do we have so many guests visiting us all the time? Only last week Rajeev's uncle and aunt left and now my mamaji and family! I must be the most unfortunate soul, always having to cater to guests, never able to get free time for myself,' Sitara indulged in self pity and then set about getting the guest room and bath room ready. She changed the sheets on the bed, put a new spread, kept extra towels and soaps in the bathroom, got out the crockery she used exclusively for guests and then there was cooking to do! She grumbled and felt miserably low as she went about soaking and grinding the batter for dosas for the next morning, preparing the basic masalas and all the umpteen chores that presented themselves when guests arrive at home. She groaned to herself, 'To think I'd end up doing all this instead of watching that darned CD!'

Now Sitara was a bit of a perfectionist. She set herself a hard routine to maintain her lovely house. This exercise became more severe when guests arrived as she prided herself in keeping the house spotless and everything in its place. The children and her husband, Rajeev were subjected to strict instructions and angry outbursts even if a single thing was out of place. So they quietly adhered to her instructions rather than face her wrath.

When the children came home and saw the guest room, they asked Sitara, ‘Who is coming now mom?' Sitara grunted, 'Mamaji and family. Now see that you don't mess up anything and behave properly when they are here.' The children looked at each other and winked, 'Here we go again', then nodded their heads obediently.

Next, it was her husband's turn.  The moment he saw his wife's face on entering the house, he knew what was in the offing. How well did he know his wife! 'Who is coming now?' he demanded. He was duly updated along with the usual instructions. Rajeev merely shrugged as he was used to such occurrences by now.

At night, Sitara went to bed with her mind darting between the umpteen tasks she had done and yet had to do. Being the perfectionist that she was, she wanted everything organized before hand, right from the menu for all the days of her guests' visit, to the bed linen she would provide to each of them. She tossed and turned reviewing all the details over and over again and woke Rajeev in the process. 'Worrying over the details as usual dear?' he asked yawning. 'You would have had guests from the very next week of our marriage and have entertained them to perfection every time. Still you can't stop fretting and worrying even today. Change your priorities dear. You have so many other things to worry about'. 'What other things?' Sitara asked immediately anxious.  ;’ Why me for instance', said Rajeev. ‘What’s there to worry about you now?' began Sitara and then punched him lightly seeing the twinkle in his eyes. Laughing, Rajeev pulled her into his arms and told her to go to sleep. Sitara slept, comforted by her husband's arms around her.

The next morning, she was up before the alarm could go off. She had her bath, woke Rajeev up, sent him to the airport and got to her work. The guests arrived and left and as always, everything went off with clockwork precision, thanks to Sitara's efforts.

On Wednesday morning two days after her mamaji left, Sitara was sitting down with a magazine, after having restored normalcy to the house, when the phone rang again announcing another set of guests. The moment she kept the phone down, Sitara called Rajeev and burst out,' Guests again! I cannot take it anymore Rajeev, I am fed-up! Just because we are living in a metro, we cannot have people visiting us all the time for some work of theirs or the other.' Rajeev comforted her, 'Come on Sitara. Cool down, we will talk when I come home. You just relax now with a book, don't do anything. We will go out for dinner,' he added before saying bye. 

At the restaurant, while having dinner, Rajeev added to her woes by saying, 'I have to go to Singapore next week for five days'. 'But that's when these people are arriving!' Sitara said in dismay. 'Now I have the added chore of picking up and dropping them too. How unlucky can I get! Why me, Rajeev, always?' she lamented and felt utterly miserable and agitated. Seeing her state, Rajeev chided, 'Now Sitara don't work yourself up. Take such things in your stride. Don't drive yourself to this extent each time someone comes. You don't have to be perfect in everything. This is your house they are visiting, not a hotel for everything to be so organized. Once you see things this way, you will stop being so overtly anxious about such trivial and transient issues and enjoy your life doing what you do best, keeping your home, being a good wife and mother. You always say that you are thankful you are blessed with all these, but seem to forget these very blessings when something trivial occurs'.

Sitara mulled over Rajeev's words but still remained a little sour about the situation. But she chose not to say anything at the moment and the family left the restaurant after having their dinner.

The next week flew past at a hectic pace with Rajeev leaving for Singapore and the arrival and departure of the guests.

Sitara, who was still feeling sorry for herself, for having had to entertain the steady stream of guests, never missed an opportunity to complain, whenever Rajeev called up.  He was getting a trifle impatient with her agitation and said so to her, which offended Sitara and drove her to think that Rajeev did not care for her.

On the night of his arrival, Sitara was all geared up to give vent to her ire. Rajeev's plane was expected to land at midnight. So Sitara put the children to bed and slowly went about her work as she had to wait up till 1 a.m. at least for Rajeev to turn up. Once she completed her work, she sat down to watch TV to while away time. At 12.30 while surfing channels, the breaking news on a News Channel caught her eyes.  It said that the flight from Singapore had crashed and the number of casualties was still being assessed. ‘Oh my God! That's the flight Rajeev is in!' the thought hit Sitara and she felt the earth slipping from under her feet. She was in   a state of shock and sat without moving a muscle as an hour passed by. She was jerked to awareness by the constant ringing of the bell. She opened the door in a trance, but nothing registered in her mind.

Rajeev dropped his bag and caught hold of her, scared at her pallor. He sat her down on the sofa and forced some water down her throat. Sitara responded after he kept calling her name and shaking her. She stared at him incredulously for some time and then fell into his arms. She cried herself hoarse. By this time Rajeev who was clueless about her behaviour, understood it when he saw the news on the TV which was still on. He was pretty shaken up himself.

When Sitara had calmed down, Rajeev told her, 'I'm terribly sorry that I upset you so much. Actually, I did not take that fated flight. I finished my work early, so I caught the first flight available and wanted to surprise all of you. But I had to drop my client and then got caught in a traffic jam and so got delayed. Don't cry, I'm here now sweetheart', he pacified and hugged Sitara as she began to cry all over again. Both Rajeev and Sitara thanked God for Rajeev's miraculous and lucky escape and went to bed after embracing their children who were sleeping, very much shaken by the experience.

The next morning as Sitara looked out of the kitchen window, she understood the true meaning of being blessed.  Guests could come and go, her house would or would not be perfect, she could give in to being a wee bit disorderly, but she would never stop counting her blessings in the true sense of the word.

- Kanchana. Rao

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The Frying Pan Saga

Oh no, I groaned as I flew out of the house. “What a way to start the day!” My wife stood at the door, brandishing a frying pan, a non stick one at that, which she maintained in its immaculate condition.

However, there were times when she did forget about taking care of it, as now, a moment ago, when it descended on my head more than once. “I’ll fry you, you worm!” she screeched at a glass shattering pitch that would have done an opera singer proud. The worm squirmed. I cocked a wary eye behind me, and thankfully saw her retrace her steps. She would never come out on the street minus her lipstick. The storm had abated for the present. I was so occupied in sneaking a peek behind me, that I failed to notice the paper boy sailing along merrily on his shining paragon of a bicycle. He saw me too late and we came together with a resounding clash.

        I picked myself up gloomily and dusted my poor rear which had come off the worst in the encounter. Maybe I should acquire a suit of armour for days like these, I thought distractedly as I looked around for the culprit. However, he seemed to have taken to his heels, faster than a streak of lightning, before I could nab him.

         His cycle lay glinting in the sunlight. I don’t know what prompted me to have my cycling ‘arangetram’ right then. The cycle beckoned like a sultry temptress, and I picked it up gingerly, and lifted one foot over it. After a couple of false starts, I got it moving. People around scattered at the fierce scowl on my face, as I concentrated on getting my feet to move and keep my balance at the same time. I found myself going down a gentle slope, and had I been a bit surer of my balance, I would have almost enjoyed the ride. In reality, I was now wondering how to get off. Should I let go and tumble off? Or should I hang on and clutch on to something solid like a branch and heave myself off? I felt both ways were rather undignified!

            I wobbled past a jewellery shop, and this brought back bitter memories of the spat with my wife. The crux was that I had forgotten her birthday, which had landed up a couple of months too soon (or so I thought!). The day also happened to be Woman’s Day, which she had pointed out sweetly, even smiling when I parried that by asking her if every day didn’t belong to the fairer sex.

           As I sat sipping my filter coffee, after an unusually sumptuous breakfast of my favourite ‘upma’ done to a nicety, with tiny vegetables and aromatic curry leaves, and finished off with a bowl of rich carrot halwa, she had waited expectantly. I had belched in enormous satisfaction and complimented her on being the best cook in the world. What a wonderful way to begin a day, I had thought.

       And then, the day had blown up in my face. A simple question about what the occasion was, and she had turned into a regular Godzilla. Her eyes flashed, her nostrils flared and her ears waggled. And that is how the frying pan episode took place!

        Now here I was astride a cycle, and I had no idea how to stop the darned thing. The wobbling was becoming more noticeable, and suddenly a huge pothole materialized before me. I grabbed onto the right hand brake, and suddenly found myself whizzing through the air at full speed.  After a not so gentle flip, I found myself flat on the ground, my nose in a handful of dust, with nothing bruised but my ego. The day seemed to be going just the way it was meant to go! Was it true about getting up from the wrong side of the bed, and straightaway getting onto the wrong side of one’s spouse?

        I hobbled to my feet, my bones creaking in protest as I straightened up, and turned my face towards the way back home. As I limped along, I suddenly found myself in front of the jewellery shop I had passed earlier. Here was the perfect solution to appease my Lady Godzilla. I walked in, only to find myself bedazzled. There was a little bridge within, with water running below, and bright fish darting to and fro. The counters sparkled as light fell on the different varieties of earrings, bangles and necklaces strewn around in perfect order. Eager sales ladies converged on me, sensing a kill.

         “May I help you, Sir?” trilled a particularly musical voice, and the charming young lady beckoned me to her counter. Dazed as I was, I was astonished at the alacrity with which she whipped out a dozen or so trinkets, and soon the counter overflowed with glittering, eye catching articles. I sent up a silent prayer of thankfulness that my wife was not with me. In the end, I chose a charming bracelet that was as charming as the salesgirl, and left for home, my wallet as light as my heart, now that I had done my good deed for the day.

         I stepped out jauntily into the balmy day, sunny side up. My mood had lifted miraculously, and I felt like singing with the birds, but refrained from doing so as I did not want to alarm people enough to cause a traffic jam. I tripped along merrily, imagining a pleasant reunion with my spouse. I straightened my collar, and brushed an imaginary speck off my shirt. “God’s in His heaven/ All’s right with the world”. Browning’s words seemed to fit in with my mood, as I hummed a tune beneath my breath, this time to avoid scaring the birds.
           As I neared my house, the gate stood open, invitingly open. The sunrays were falling on the roof, turning it a mellow yellow as I quickened my step and made my way in. This was my home, my haven!

          Ah! What a tender moment – tender enough to awaken a poet’s senses. I stepped in carefully and looked around for HER – my Muse! She came gliding down the stairs, as beautiful as a queen and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. She seemed to have got over her blues.

           I was in fine fettle, and going along with the romantic mood of the moment, I knelt before her and presented my offering (I mean, offered my present) to her, expecting nothing less than a bear hug in appreciation. I closed my eyes for a quick moment, and then opened them again.

            I was never sure about what happened next. The lights flickered for a frozen moment, and my wife held out a delicate hand. My mind whirled as I saw a familiar bracelet nestling on her slender wrist. The penny dropped as I looked on in dismay. I had made the supreme mistake of giving her the same present twice over. A grave folly indeed in her eyes!

           Her eyes blazed fire and she reached out for something on the table behind her, and to my horror, out came the frying pan for the second time today, and made contact with the same spot as it had done earlier.

“Oh, no”, I groaned, as I flew out of the house yet again. “What a way to end a day!”

-Deepti Menon