Sujata
 

Wobbly on her feet white haired and feeling every bit of her seventy years Sujata entered the temple premises chanting her mantras softly and then standing to take darshan of her favorite deity.

She bowed her head in reverence in front of the huge deity of Hanuman.

Humming the Hanuman Chalisa to herself she walked to the row of beggars some children some old women and men.

She always felt bad for women as old as her.

Widowed at a young age she had single-handed brought up her children.

She was lucky that her husband had left her decent money. So that was not a problem.



Sujata always carried food to give the beggars. Today she carried bread and halwa.

She had made the halwa herself.

Her cook had played truant so she could not make her customary poories.

Among the rows of beggars there was a frail old woman who looked familiar.

She peered closely through her cataract eyes and a shock of recognition came to her. Yes that was Munni her old maid.

She got the shock of her life.

Munni begging!

Munni her maid, like her widowed young, and unlike her, was with three daughters instead of two children.



Munni, whom she trusted implicitly with her house!

Munni, with whom she sympathized with whole-heartedly!

Munni was her partime maid. She worked in other houses too with her three daughters.



But Sujata let her use all the facilities in her house with impunity.

The daughter would have chai and bread in her house in the morning and evening.

They would use the bathroom in the outhouse, wash their clothes and have a bath.

After all there was never any water in their chawl and the bathroom they shared with hundred other people.

And whatever Sujata could do…. like buying cooking oil or wheat or rice or rations for the month for Munni, she would do.

She understood how tough it is for Munni to live like this.

It was like Sujata had adopted Munni and her three daughters.



Sometimes when life would get too much for Sujata battling alone and the children difficult, Munni would press her legs and they would chat in those long summer afternoons … with the comfortable hum of the air conditioner.

After all they were just sisters under a different skin.

Normally afternoons were siesta time for Sujata.

One afternoon she couldn’t sleep…she kept thinking of her dead husband. She was nervous unhappy and she went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cold water.

Munni was there in the kitchen

Munni seemed startled to see her.

“What is it she asked Munni,”… “You are looking pale.”

“Are you ok?”

Munni muttered something, she looked very flustered.

Sujata went closer to take a look and she saw that Munni had a huge plastic bag in which she had packed Sujata’s two very expensive saris.

Sujata just stared at her dumbfounded.

Munni doing this to her!

Munni stealing!

Munni who was like her sister!

If Munni had asked for her saris she would have willingly given them.

Is that what Munni had been doing all along?

She thought mentally. She had lost two diamond rings three four bedcovers…but she thought it was her other servant. She could never fathom it was Munni.

Munni whom she trusted so implicitly.

Munni saw her startled expression.

“Forgive me, behanjee,” she said. And she started crying

Sujata also had tears in her eyes and her voice was too choked to say anything.

What dreams she had for both of them.

She had planned to ask Munni to shift in her servant’s quarter and had planned to get her daughters married and she and Munni would have grown old together.

Munni knew her luck had come to an end.

She left.

And neither did Sujata ever ask her to come back neither did she show her face to Sujata.

Life went on.

Sujata’s children got married and moved away. Sujata was left alone in her huge house.

She was well to do. Her children also regularly sent her money.

She had a maid to look after her needs. But after the Munni episode Sujata was always weary of servants and kept her distance.

And more importantly she kept everything under lock and key.

And now she saw Munni begging.

“Munni,” she said.

“Behanjee,” said Munni and tried to get up .She was frail even more wobbly and her thick cataract showed.

Sujata looked at her and a lump came to her throat.

“What happened where are your daughters?”

“They are married. …But one of them is widowed …I live with her. She works as a maid and I beg to earn my keep. We are poor.”

Our lives and their lives never change, thought Sujata.

She thought of her huge servants room where she had wanted Munni to stay.

A little voice told her its still not to late.

Ask her now

But somehow Sujata did not heed the voice.

She fumbled in her purse and took out a folded hundred-rupee note and gave it to Munni.

And before Munni could react she walked away to where her driver was waiting for her.

She didn’t want Munni to see her streaming tears.


©Anu Chopra, 2006