A Passing Ship

The story of a special child and the relationship she shares with her mother

That migraine, again. This time Kiara decides to forego the pill. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. Where was Bhola? 

 

“Bholaaaa!” 

 

“Haan *didi, tell me,” Bhola is alert.

 

“Bhola, what is this concoction you’ve handed me, hadn’t I asked for ‘masala milk’?”

“Haan, yes, yes, absolutely. This here….” Snatching up the glass from Kiara’s hands Bhola breaks into a run and returns armed with a steel tumbler, hot to the touch. 

 

“What’s it *didi?  Same Headache?” 

 

Smiling feebly at Bhola’s concerned mien, Kiara waves her hand and indicates that she is fine. Her eyes betray intense throbbing, and Bhola pointedly observing her, his stance full of affection for this child who he’d been caring for since she was two. He is keen to provide some form of relief. 

 

“Don’t say it’s nothing, I know everything,” and with a flourish, he draws out a tablet from within the folds of his kurta. 

 

“Nai Bhola, not today, no more. Thank you!” Kiara dismisses him. He doesn’t press. 

 

The wind blows her way, carrying a waft of jasmine blossoms. The young girl breathes in the scent, and smiles to herself, yet a sense of foreboding knocks at her heart. Kiara uses one hand to brush back her hair and deftly bundles it up in a bunch with practiced ease. A beauteous knot finds pride of place. The masala milk has worked its magic. 

“Mmmm”. 

She is definitely less pained. 

 

A stronger breeze billows its way into the room and the expert knot comes undone, liberating her silken tresses. They cascade down her back, comforting the little girl. She leaves them be. Her upper arms hurt. Her left arm hangs limply even so. 

 

 Mom is out. Diya, her elder sister, is back in her Design institute at *Panjim. It’s Maali gardener’s day off.  In her aloneness, Kiara is brooding. This solitary moment hits her, and she seeks company. The swaying trees and birds in the garden offer their company, twittering merrily. The incessant babble of the common sparrow is musical. Her eyes fill up. As she sits mopily, she discovers the dark face of a mobile phone staring back at her, plunged in the depths of the sofa she is seated upon. It’s her mother, Mala’s mobile. Mother has forgotten to carry it along. Quite unlike her. Where was she? The little immobile tool appears to be a piece of unfriendly junk. And then, even as Kiara forms her thought, it begins to buzz loudly, shattering her momentary self-absorption.  The thrill of that vibrating mobile sweeps through Kiara’s being. It’s an unknown number yet it connects her to someone, somewhere. She hesitates. Mala had told her to never respond to an unknown number, one that was not registered with a name against it. Kiara had just about learnt to wield a mobile phone, and was itching to answer it by pressing the green button. It would be her second time and she is hugely tempted. 

 

“Hey there, Mala?” an unfamiliar voice with no number speaks out. 

 

“Mala no, this is Kiara, her daughter.”

 

“Oh! Where’s Mala? Hi, I’m Andy.”

Kiara is at a loss. What should she say, if anything at all. 

 

“Heeellloooo! You there Kiara? Where is Mala?”

 

“Um, sorry, I I I….” Kiara stammers and the mobile falls free of her hand. She struggles to retrieve it from the floor,

 “Sorry. Mala, I mean my mom is out. I don’t know. I think she, she’ll be back soon. She’s never out for too long.”

 

“Awright. Tell her Andy called, and that she must be call me back before twelve noon positively, yes? You got that Kiaaaraa.”

 

The intimate authority in the voice of the stranger, catches Kiara off-guard. Who was he? Clearly a friend, and why had she not met him yet in that case. Mom hardly had friends, and she knew them all. He sounded pleasantly familiar. The young girl’s thoughts are occupied now, and she reties her hair thoughtlessly. 

 

After the milk she decides to go for a shower, the call from Andy having made her feel better. She plays with the mobile for a while afterward, picturing Andy meeting her mother here, at home, this afternoon perhaps. That would be nice, some lively chatter in this quiet home of theirs. 

The doorbell rings, jolting her.

 

“Bholaaaaa!” 

 

“It’s the *Dhobi didi, worry not, I’m handing over the clothes, you rest”

Mala isn’t back, and it is past eleven am. She decides to shower after all. 

 

Just as she steps into the shower cubicle, she hears the mobile buzzing again. She steps right out and grabs it as deftly as she can with her good hand. 

 

“Hello!”

 

“Kiara, it’s me again, Andy. Remember me?”

 

“Yyyyes Andy,” a frisson runs up and down her spine.

 

“Your mom still missing, because I haven’t heard back from her yet.”

 

“She hasn’t returned. I’m sorry I couldn’t convey your message Andy.”

 

“Not your fault dear. Well, if I don’t hear from her before or by twelve, tell her I’ve left and will be back tomorrow night, is that ok, will you tell her please Kiara?”

 

“I will. Where are you going Andy?” Kiara dares ask. 

 

“Oh that’s not important. What is important though is that you tell her. She will know.”

 

“Tell me please.”

 

“Haa haa, you are a curious child, you. I am going to Delhi, if you must know.”

 

“Delhi? Why?” Kiara wants the conversation to continue. 

 

“Just need to run down for something. Again, that’s not the point. DO tell her, I’ve got to run now Kiara. Nice talking to you. Tata young girl.”

 

Kiara was beginning to enjoy hearing Andy’s voice. He offered some company. He had called twice and managed to infuse some colour into her dull hours. It was nice being spoken to. When was the last time she had had a conversation with anyone except Bhola, and few monosyllabic exchanges with her mom, at least lately, with her being so preoccupied. Her elder sister had been long gone. 

 

After her shower, Kiara realizes she hadn’t nursed any thought of her headache. 

When she emerges from her room in a floral dress, she finds her mother in the living room, searching for something frantically. Her eyes dart to the clock, and it is fifty minutes past eleven. 

 

“Hi mom, where were you?” angry and bitter, Kiara hisses out the question. 

 

“Hi Kiara. You okay *beta? I’m sorry I had to rush out without waking you. Have you seen my mobile?”

 

“NO!” 

 

“I think I had left it right here,” pointing at the single seater.

Kiara had found the mobile exactly where her mother said it had been left.  She refrains from giving an answer. 

 

“So? Did you find my little, ancient mobile darling?” repeats her mother, now pleading. 

 

Kiara squirms a little. She stares at the sofa. Then she looks unblinking at her mother,

 

“So where did you go to? You always tell me where you go, but today…why didn’t you wake me up, why didn’t you?”

 

“Relax Kiu, please, I had something urgent to attend to. Bhola was there, wasn’t he? Hang on, do you have one of your headaches? Let me see, come here,” Mala holds out her arms, dropping her bag. 

Kiara moves back instinctively, demonstrating her anger.

 

“What’s the matter Kiu, stop pouting. It was important and I left very early. Come here you.” And Mala moves to Kiara embracing her child. Kiara succumbs to her mother’s love.

 

“I didn’t find your mobile mom, I didn’t I promise.”

 

“That’s okay, not to worry. I’m sure it’s somewhere around. I’ve been careless before. I’m certain I haven’t lost it,” sounding uncertain, distracted. 

 

“Who’s Andy mom?” Her mom’s arms stiffen.

 

“You know Andy- Angad?”     “How?”

 

“I don’t know Andy. He, he….had come by. He asked if you were home, and of course you weren’t.”

 

“He came by.” Mala affirmed, digesting this fact. 

 

“Kiara, where is my mobile?” 

 

“I don’t have it I already told you. Don’t accuse me like that mom!”

 

“I won’t ask you again Kiara, please give me my mobile, it’s my only……” she stops short.

 

Kiara burtss into tears. She sobs raucously in her mother’s arms. A mere thirteen years old, Kiara was not in the habit of lying to her mother. 

 

Mala allows Kiara to vent. She holds her, cradles her and then gently loosens her grip. 

 

“Angad is an old friend Kiara, he’s… he was your father’s buddy. I’ve known him a long time and his nickname is Andy.”

 

Mala hesitates before continuing. She waits for Kiara to question her further, but the child continues to be racked by sobs, a little quieter now. 

 

Both mother and daughter sit solemnly. The wind blows over them, cooling their anguish. Distant birdsongs are heard. The sun has moved up in the sky and it hits Mala’s angular face at a slant, lending it a mystic glow. Kiara looks up at her mother, admiring her slender beauty through her moist eyes, “Mom, Andy or Angad had called. He had wanted you to perhaps go with him. He said if you didn’t call him by twelve noon…”

 

“Then what my child?” looking straight into Kiara’s eyes, now begging.

 

“Then he would leave for Delhi but be back by tomorrow evening.”

 

She has barely completed her sentence, when she finds her mother’s face turn pale, bearing an empty expression. Tears are soundlessly rolling down, and gradually Mala’s body goes into spasms. 

 

Kiara, stunned, grips her mother’s arms, “What did I do wrong mother? I just …..lied. I’m sorry Mom, I’m so sorry.”

 

She then glances at the clock, its longer arm just a little past twelve and the small needle at thirty.

 

“But he’ll be back mom, he said he would.”

 

Her mother is still weeping, copiously now. 

 

“What is it mom, what is it, stop weeping please!” the child begs.

Kiara is frightened now, agonized by guilt. Her left arm had been paralyzed for as long as she could remember. Forced into home schooling, she was a very lonely person. Her mother was her best friend, and here she was, hurting her best friend. Why was mom crying so bitterly, as if her world had come to an end?

She is deeply regretting not having divulged the truth about Andy’s call earlier. Who was he to her mom after all?

 

After what seems like an hour, Mala looks up at her daughter.

 

“That was Angad’s code for goodbye Kiara. He is a wanted man. I can’t say much more.”

 

So was Angad/Andy mom’s lover then, she wanted to ask. Why so many tears over a wanted man otherwise…. 

 

On cue Mala responds, “He is the only other man I have loved. He is or has left the country and had asked me to go along with him.”

 

“And you didn’t want to because of me,” Kiara states.

 

“No, I didn’t want to because he already has a partner in Venezuela.”

 

Kiara feels both thrilled and dejected. She didn’t think of me, or else she would have left. 

Again on cue, her mother interjects, “And I would not leave you for any man or woman in this world or any other.”

 

Clutching at her daughter’s paralysed arm, Mala says out loud.

 

“Angad’s a good man Kiu, but doesn’t compare with my baby. It can still hurt though, he was a good friend, perhaps my only friend.”

“A good male friend you mean,” Kiara wisely adds.

“You truly are stuck with me, aren’t you mom?” Kiara suddenly spits out, embittered by a truth she has held onto.  

“No darling, it’s a choice. You and your sister are my world and occasionally I expand my world to embrace others.

And that’s quite all right, is it not!? Angad was a passing ship, I always knew that,” Mala is calm.  

 

“Is that so mom, is it truly so?”

 

“Yes, that’s how it is Kiu. Now, let’s go for a movie, shall we, you and me, just us?” Mala smiles at her daughter, gets up determinedly and holds out her arm, dispelling any sense of foreboding Kiara has.

 

On her part, Kiara looks at her own dress approvingly, gives her mother her working arm, and then locks eyes with Mala’s for an instant, as a wave of affection passes between them. 

 

“Let’s tell Bhola to put away tonight’s dinner, we can easily eat it tomorrow, he’ll be relieved too,” Mala sings out and strides toward the kitchen. 

©KamaliniNatesan

 

*didi �" a term used for elder sister, but helpers use it as a moniker for anyone they work for, someone young.

 

*dhobi �" washerman/person who also irons clothes

 

*beta �" meaning child

 

word count : 2110