Riddhi waits for her best friend near the school gate. They usually walked home together and today was no exception. They didn't live very far from school and so there really wasn't any need for a carpool. Besides, Shweta's paternal grandmother had been on her case ever since she'd gained a bit of weight. Shweta wasn't by any means overweight but her grandmother's eye had caught the slight bit of chubbiness settling around her belly. She had gained a bit more weight in comparison to her lanky frame from when she was fifteen. While most people told her she finally looked healthy and not like she'd been starving, her paternal grandmother didn't think so. She had huffed and grumbled about the lack of exercise and how the recent article in the newspaper had spoken about the ill effects of extra weight and how it might lead to cancer.
To Shweta, it seemed that her grandmother was always finding reasons to call something cancer; often trying to caution her daughter-in-law against it. While Shweta's mother was a woman who normally respected people; she drew her line at medical fiction. She had a rule: if it wasn't written in a medical journal, she wouldn't pay heed to it.
Shweta's grandmother had resorted to talking to her two grand-daughters and sometimes even the unsuspecting Riddhi. So today as the girls trudged back home, there was a special, cancer-aware seventy-one-year-old somebody waiting for them.
"Oh, you girls are finally back. Tell me, how are you Riddhi? And Shweta, you look very uncomfortable in that uniform. You need to run for twenty-three kilometers every day. It keeps away cancer." Her grandmother greeted her with a volley of words. A smart woman dressed in a crisply ironed beige sari. Her hair was entirely white; oiled and tucked into a neat little bun on top of her head. Her skin is light and she's got remarkable green eyes. Her mouth is slightly downturned, a constant frown on her face. She's tall, taller than Shweta and her body is very well maintained.
"Oh, dadi! I didn't know you would be coming here. You have given me quite a surprise." Shweta says, while Riddhi smiles and folds her hands in a namaste.
"What nonsense! I told your sister a week ago that I would be coming here to stay for three days. Then I'm going to the Kali Temple for my yearly visit and then go back home. That useless sister of yours, she forgets everything! It seems she's been forgetting to eat as well considering how skinny she's become! And you, you must be eating for two people at once! The two of you will drive me crazy someday! Stress causes cancer and a lot of other diseases. Is that how you want me to die?" She says, glaring at Shweta.
While normally, the spunky Shweta would have taken offense at someone so very much after her weight, but this time she doesn't mind. She knows that her grandmother belongs to an era as old as time herself and so she simply smiles fondly and says, "Well, then don't take so much stress. Let's go inside and I will make you some green tea. It's supposed to be really good for your body." She says and this appeases her grandmother a bit.
In the meantime, Riddhi escapes with a meek "Bye, dadi", vehemently denying the offer to come inside for some snacks and tea. "Green tea is very beneficial. It has anti-oxidant properties; prevents cancer." Dadi says, trying to lure her but to no avail.
Inside the house, Shruti seems to already be in the kitchen whipping up some food.
"Hi! Did you decide to cook again today?" Shweta says. They normally took turns in cooking to help out their mother. Their duties were divided during the weekdays but ever since Shruti had left for college- it had been only Shweta for their mother was often late. Shweta didn't mind this a bit and wanted to take up culinary arts in the future.
She just hadn't figured out a way to tell her mother that.
"Yes, I was planning to. But now I'm just chopping the vegetables. Dadi says she'll cook and that she cannot stand my way of cooking. That the amount of oil I put in will give her a heart attack!" Shruti says chuckling, sounding rather amused with their grandmother's ways.
Their grandmother was undoubtedly a very strict woman. She followed a strict diet herself and had none of the normal grandmotherly warmness for her grandkids. She didn't stand for the nonsense of any kind and would tell people exactly what she thought of them. She wasn't one to mince her words and most people respectfully heard her out sometimes even fearing to cut her in the middle of her long rants. Though quite aware and up to date about the happenings in the world, she was very easily fooled by medical fiction. She would have easily sold all her property and given away her money to the cancer awareness scammers had it not been for the girls' mother repeatedly reminding her not to. This was her one great weakness. The other one was rather contradictory. For a woman who claimed herself to be very alert and aware (particularly about cancer), she made it a point to visit a crystal ball fortune teller once every year. The fortune teller was coincidentally located in the same city as the girls lived in. She always made it a point to go there right before she went on her Kali Maa Darshan tour.
Dadi trundled into the kitchen to look at her two grand-daughters. "Off with you. One cuts ridiculously giant shaped vegetables. While the other .. oh dear. Shweta! You seem to have a whole lot of pimples these days. Come here! Stand under the light and let me see your face clearly. Now go, wash your face. You need to stop eating those Kurkure and Bingo that you kids are so fond of. Only boiled and green vegetables now! Do you know those packets contain those- what's it called.."
"Carcinogens!" Shruti says and Dadi continues her rant.
"Yes, carci- whatever it is. Very dangerous. Now off with the two of you. Go upstairs and read a book or play some games. Whatever is it that you do!" She says, almost breathless by now.
The girls hurry upstairs, not wanting another bout of scolding.
"Hey, Shruti. Do I have a lot of pimples? This time Dadi seems right. I do seem to be getting a lot of acne these days!" Shweta says rather concerned and drags her sister towards the mirror where she Shruti plays the devil's advocate convincing her that it was Dadi who was an over-exaggerating dame of one and seventy and that her face was nothing to stress about.
*****************
Later that night, all of them sit in the dining room tucking into some delicious daal (lentil puree), gobi (cauliflower), bhindi (lady's finger), paneer (cottage cheese), and rice. How their grandmother managed to do all of that alone and still not drop dead with exhaustion was beyond them. Their mother had been pleasantly surprised when she entered the house to see her mother-in-law very busily whipping up some dishes. While they were not very close, they still had a good amount of respect for each other. Unlike Seema, her husband's mother had never quite gotten over her son's disappearance. "I shall pray he rots to death" was what she said, every time his name came up. She had three other children all of whom lived near her home which was an eight-hour journey from the girls' home. She lived alone in a huge bungalow, her husband having died when her children were quite young. Having been a single mother in the unforgiving times of old India, she had a huge amount of empathy and respect for her daughter in law. They shared a cordial and amicable- if not intimate- relationship.
"So, Shweta," Seema says, after a while. "Did you get your period today?"
"No. Not yet." Shweta says, hoping her mother wouldn't bring up the pregnancy scandal yet again. If her grandmother were to hear of it, she was certain it would be the death of her.
Her grandmother, alert as always perks up her ears. "Her period is missing? See, this is why I tell you to exercise. Seema, have you checked her? Ovarian and Cervical Cancer are on a rise among Indian women." She says nodding disapprovingly in Shweta's direction.
"Hm. You are correct about that. A bit of exercise goes a long way in fixing health issues. I haven't checked her yet and I'm certain there's no reason to jump to a conclusion and call it cancer." Her mother says, thoughtfully.
"A bit of exercise and waking up early wouldn't hurt you. No, don't make that face. Shruti, don't laugh at your sister. You've been lazing around at the house all day as well. A little bit of walking won't hurt a hair on that cell phone-addicted head of yours." Their mother says with an affirmative nod.
Shruti and Shweta both look at each other horrified and ready to protest. But their grandmother has something else to add.
"When you come from school tomorrow, we shall go and visit my Jyotish. She says decisively."
(Jyotish: fortune teller)
****************
The next evening Shweta trudges back home very slowly. Riddhi, rather aggravated by the pace kept tugging her.
"But I don't want to go." Shweta wails. "There's so much I can accomplish in that time. So many things!" She cries and Riddhi smiles sympathetically.
Shweta's mother hadn't been very intent on the idea of sending her daughter to get her fortunes read. She had tried to convince her mother-in-law but to no avail. Even when Shruti exclaimed about the amount of homework Shweta had yet to complete her grandmother didn't budge.
"What if there's some dosh in her graha? What if it's some health disorder? What if it's cancer?" She had reasoned. And once the old lady's mind was set, there was no budging it. It had been decided quite unanimously (only by her grandmother and Seema and Shruti's exasperated silence) that Shweta was to visit the Jyotish. (Dosh: fault, Graha: alignment of stars).
When they finally reached Shweta's house, having taken an extra fifteen minutes, Dadi was already ready and waiting for her. "Oh, hello Riddhi. How are you today, child?" She asked beaming.
Shweta cocked an eyebrow, noticing a glint in her grandmother's eye. This was ominous, she realized. Unsuspecting Riddhi smiles back at Dadi. "I've been good. I'm afraid I just couldn't join the morning walk today." She says.
"Well, don't worry about that. I had the good fortune of meeting your grand-aunt; my old friend today. You didn't tell me that she was visiting? Well anyway, she really wanted you to go to the Jyotish as well. But her hip's been acting up lately. So, she asked me if I could take you along with me. I, of course, agreed." Dadi said, smiling affectionately.
Riddhi swallows and smiles weakly at Dadi. Shweta, standing behind her grandmother claps her hands in joy thanking the stars for letting her have a partner to suffer with.
"Sure, Dadi. I'll have to ask my mother though." She says.
"No reason to do that! If you run around asking your mother every tiny thing, you'll drive that poor woman crazy. Stress triggers a lot of underlying diseases and also proliferates the growth of cancer-causing cells!" Dadi says, glaring at her.
"Of course, Dadi." Riddhi says. "I'll meet you in fifteen minutes."
She walks home with a pace twice as slow as Shweta's.
*******************
Sixteen minutes later, Shweta and her grandmother appeared in front of Riddhis house. Shweta is in an extremely grumpy mood, having been asked to fit into an old kurta set. It looks extremely unflattering on her but her grandmother wouldn't let her wear anything else. She rejected her other better kurta sets and chose the beige colored one, which she proclaimed made Shweta look very 'sweet and simple'. She, Shweta was absolutely convinced that if there was anything in this life that she would never be; it was her grandmother's version of an ideal kid. A bit like the wildflowers that she plucked when she was a child, Shweta is defiant and willing to withstand storms to see herself rise. She fits perfectly into the generation that she is born in. Clipping her wings and thrusting her to fit into a mold of an older generation will only be met with a rebellion. But since it's just three days with her grandmother she's keeping quiet. She also has enough maturity to know that her grandmother comes from a different school of thought. While she might not necessarily agree with it, she realizes that it pleases her grandmother.
In conclusion, you could say that Shweta believed in feminism. Shweta believed in family. But sometimes in India and perhaps in other places as well, the family tends to blot over the colors of feminism. It is tricky, managing the sometimes-thin line between the two and knowing when the compromises have to stop being made. That is perhaps the conflicting beauty of this generation of young girls in India who have been raised by mothers harboring feminism in their hearts even if all of them weren't able to express it. They have seen the compromise in their mother's eyes and silently stared back, promising to compromise lesser and pass on the legacy. Until there is a generation where equality is the norm. Until then, there shall be growth, slow as it may seem.
"Shweta. Look at this." Riddhi says pointing to the frilly orange kurta that she's been fit into.
Shweta almost bursts out laughing for she's never seen poor Riddhi look so uncomfortable in her own skin before. The loud color standing out and clashes with her skin in a horrible way. Riddhi's grand-aunt stands at the doorway, talking to dadi.
"I don't look any better." Shweta tries to reassure her friend.
"Well, I'd wear beige any day over this," Riddhi grumbles, frowning.
"It's a bad day, today. For both of us." Shweta still tries to console her friend.
"Well, not a completely bad day. I topped the Chemistry test." Riddhi says, smiling.
Shweta smiles along saying, "I could never get my head around Chem. But good for you, Riddhi."
"Oh, yes. I remember you cursing Organic Chemistry on every single one of our tenth-grade exams, while I absolutely detested geography. Those cash crops in all the states, ugh." Riddhi laughs as Shweta shudders.
"I think we'll have to consult the Jyotish," Shweta says, jokingly.
Riddhi's eyes widen as she asks, "You really don't believe this crap, do you?" and Shweta laughs, "Of course not, silly. We'll just have to play along and pretend to be interested. Besides, it might even turn out to be fun."
"Hm, a mystical adventure, I like the sound of it. Riddhi, Shweta & And the Mystery of the Crystal Ball. Riddhi says, trying to make her voice sound mystical and dreamy.
"Sounds like one of those mystery novels you kept reading when we were twelve," Shweta smirks.
"Hey, they are good!" Riddhi protests.
"Were good."
A/n: What do you think about Dadi and her mannerisms?
Warmly,
shortgirlbigbook â¤.