Wednesday 1 November 2017

CON-TENT-MENT

She stands by the window. 
Expecting, sensing, dreaming. 
Her books are torn and her yellowed satchel is now used to stuff old clothes and other nonsense.  

All of eight, Lola misses her school, and her best friend Zoya. She also misses the sparrows who would invariably drop by during recess to nibble at the odd titbits that she fed them. A lone tear rolls down her face. 

Mrs. G, a retired English teacher stays at the end of the lane in an old fashioned bungalow. She is down with ‘Arthritis.' Her house is huge and there is no help. The deal is clinched between Lola's mother and Mrs. G. In exchange of few hundreds it is agreed that Lola shall take care of Mrs. G and her household chores, till she recovers. 

Lola can't even get the word right. In her third attempt she finally says the word arthritis out loud (ARTEE-RIGHT-IS). She is pleased with herself for getting the word right but is not pleased about going to Mrs. G’s house. Next morning, at the chime of eight Lola reaches her house.  

Mrs. G is sitting on a rocking chair. Her hands are trembling as she tries hard to keep them steady while holding the arm rests of her favourite chair. Lola dusts the house, scrubs the floor and puts the washed clothes out on the string to dry. In the afternoon, she massages Mrs. G’s feet kneading her fingers all the way up to her calves with a sticky peppermint oil. The scent reminds her of visiting a local village fair with her Baba not so long ago and eating peppermint candies from shiny transparent bottles that adorned a sweet shop. For a moment, Lola thinks of dipping her little finger into the oil and licking it just once so as to revive old memories that could transport her back to the village fair when Baba was still alive. Sitting atop his broad shoulders she remembers soaking in the magic of carousel rides and watching the monkeys perform fun filled antics. 

Mrs. G says she is feeling this contented after a really long time. It is difficult for Lola's little brain to comprehend what does ‘contented' exactly mean. Does it mean Mrs. G is happy with Lola or not so happy?  She lets the question rest in her head.  

Seeing the muddled expression on Lola’s face, Mrs. G laughs. She ruffles her hair and says, “To feel contented Lola, means to be simply happy. One could be happy just by gazing at the blue sky, or eating your favourite ice cream from a tub, or watching your mother fry your choicest samosas.”  With a wistful sigh she continues, “There are days when my joints hurt badly and I tend to get a little sad. But today, after long, I am feeling truly happy and contented. Your lively chatter has made this house come alive. And the massage, Ah! It has done wonders to my aching feet." 

She then opens a book and reads out a story to Lola. It is about six tiny gnomes who help a little girl find her way back home when she gets lost in a circus. Lola listens to the story with rapt attention. After Mrs. G finishes narrating it, Lola has loads of questions brimming in her head. One by one, Mrs. G, patiently answers them all. She is impressed with Lola’s curious bent of mind. Adjusting her frames over her head, she instructs Lola to fetch a small trunk of books kept underneath her bed.  

“Here it is!” tells Lola, panting slightly after she finishes dragging the trunk. The hinges creak as they both open it. 
“Wow! so many books!” shrieks Lola with joy. From underneath those books comes out a blue bordered slate and a handful of chalks. Lola’s first lesson has started. She is excited and so is Mrs. G catching on her enthusiasm giggling like a school girl herself.  

Mrs. G decides to give English lessons to Lola daily.  

At the dot of six Lola's mother comes to fetch her after a hard day at the fields. Mrs. G says in her raspy voice, “I shall see you tomorrow Lola. I will be waiting for you.” 
Lola runs back and hugs her tightly. Mrs. G in return slips few candy sweets into her hands. One of it is her favourite; the peppermint one. Lola’s eyes grow bigger than golgappas and her face breaks into a wide grin.  

On their way back home, Lola and her mother both walk hand in hand. The sun has settled to a pale orange hue and the leaves of the Dahlia trees crackle against the wind. 
“Are you happy there Lola?” asks her mother as she lovingly caresses her head.

“Yes, totally. I am feeling Con-Ten-Ted today, Ma” says Lola with a twinkle in her eye.
Her mother looks at her blankly not understanding a thing. 
But for Lola, her school and her books which she had missed so dearly till now, has finally figured a way to come back into her life.

HITCHHIKE

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