a cover of coloured soda!

“Trichy”…..the conductor handed her two yellow tickets as she paid in coins. It was a special day for her and her son. His dad was in trichy and they were going to going to see him. It was last during the last pongal that they had gone and visited him. He was a busy man but he enjoyed it. The bus crawled through the countryside where miles and miles of cabbage and eggfruit fields could fill your field of vision for minutes. The lone scarecrow or the lone sprinkler was the only difference from that monotony. She could feel her son resting his head against her side. He was asleep. The slightest hint of breeze was enough for him to doze off.
Memories of their past flooded into her mind. How they ran together to the top of the Gounder Malai and shouted their voices and clapped in joy and wonder when they heard the echo, how they wrote their names in all the rubber trees in Senthil Annans field before they were kicked out for wasting sap, how they caught they small fish in the flooded channels and put them in small plastic bags and feed it with leaves n rice, how their parents discussed their marriage when they were still running around in skirts n shorts. But they had grown up. He found a job in a construction site and due to his habit of putting everything that he had for a cause, he rose. They were a content family until…

“Trichy Trichy…erangamma….Trichy..” she woke up from that slumber. It was more of a ruminating session of memories cherished till eternity. She woke up her son and they got down. Trichy was the same. Hope he would be the same too. They bought the cheap coloured sweets and some coloured soda. They took an auto to his place. The same old cloth merchants, the same flowers. She could see the expression on her sons face when he ate and drank. Her eyes filled with tears as it clouded her vision. Would it really?… they passed the characteristic Siva temple with its reservoir and host of buffalos. She joined her hands. She prayed for him. And for her son. They reached his place. They paid the auto driver who shot her looks. Either he or she was confused. They asked the security. Yes he was free now. They entered the place. It was a massive office. But it was very very old. There were cobwebs everywhere and the dim lighting proved to be scary. The people working there were so immersed in their work or were taking their time out. They reached the visitors room. It was kind of crowded. She wondered.
There were no chairs there. She could see an old lady with a rosary in her hand praying. Maybe her son was not well.

Then she saw him. Unshaven face and the unkempt hair. These were his characteristics. They stood quiet for some time. Then she broke the silence. But it was in the form of a small sob. He did not speak. She continued her crying for some time. Then her son removed the partially evacuated soda cover from his mouth and asked her why she was crying. She suddenly wiped her tears with the tip of her saree and gave him a small toy to play with. He took the toy and started fiddling with it.

“why…what is the reason for such a harsh decision? Cant they revoke it? Why dont they understand?

“meena…look here. This is not like the panchayati raj we have at home. This is the government. If they say, I obey, no questions.

“but.. cant we spend some money.. you know.. my uncle is the local committee member in the Ooty division..maybe we can use his help now.”

Just then their son stopped fiddling and climbed on her and started listening to the conversation…

“Ooty division.. Meenakutty…this is way bigger than that. If their ruling is that I have to be……… transferred….. then it will take place that way. And moreover the money u waste now can be used for Dharma’s education. He has to complete his primary schooling. And then he has to complete secondary school and go to the city and get a good job and be contended with life… like we were…no like we are….i will always be there with you… don’t worry…

they held hands for sometime as they thought about their lives.. a quick review…for what???

But they knew what the other was thinking…. They couldn’t look at each others face…

Just then her son came up to her and asked “ where is appa going amma?”

“ appa….. appa…..he is….going ….. to …. Mumbai…the place with big buildings and cars and trains…..his office has moved there…so he is going there raja…”

“when will he be back?”

“he will be back……he will be back…..”

and by saying that…without taking another look… she just took her son and went… her sobs were audible.. he just stood there and looked at the silhoutte going away… but she would always be there with him…he knew.. he slowly reclined to his space…

it was early morning in trichy…. The classic M S Subbhalakshmi song could be heard from the muruga temple… an old man was reading the morning paperover a cup of piping hot tea…

"the accused in the murder of police circle inspector anbumani has been hanged…" ...he was going somwhere farther than mumbai....

just then an ambulance came to a halt in front of them.. the driver and another person came out. They sat down and asked for tea

“why so early?? U people done get any sleep?

“ its not out fault. Today morning some rascal called up the police and told them that the body of a lady and a child were found on the tracks. Stupid people…wont let us live in peace..”

the back door of the ambulance was open. A small frail but bloody hand was seen hanging out. It had a small soda cover clutched tightly in its grasp….