A Withered Flower at Sunset

Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.” ― Langston Hughes, 

The recent Ganesh festival initiated festivities and grandeur in the hearts of people. It also brought back memories of a person dear to us. Each day of the ten-day festival is a special one in Maharashtra with rituals making it even more special. On the third day of Ganesh Chaturthi, a plant of Tulsi is kept in front of the doorstep with tiny footprints drawn towards the doorstep welcoming Lord Ganesha’s sister Gauri. The Hindu mythology marks Gauri as a symbol of health, wealth, happiness, and prosperity. It was exactly at this time last year when my housemaid Sunita asked me for a two day leave. Her sons were newly married and the young girls were ecstatic about the festival. A day before that we had a demise in the building. It was the great-grandmother of a resident where Sunita worked. She was sad but consoled me saying, ‘the lady was old and ailing, she has overcome the pain’. Sunita was hale and hearty when she went on a two day leave, but we were informed she was unwell and would have to extend her period of leave.

Sunita was a middle-aged lady and belonged to Bijapur. She was fair lean, short, with chiselled features. Her long hair and black eyes added sparkle to her face. She was married at the age of fifteen to Ganpat in Pune who was eighteen then. She was welcomed in her new home by her young in-laws. Her mother in law loved Sunita because of her quiet demeanour and her ability to handle the household jobs. In due course of time, Sunita was blessed with three sons. She had prayed for a daughter but God has his ways of blessing his devotees. With time Sunita felt that’God had actually blessed her with three jewels as the children were mature, dedicated and a great help to her. They were good at studies making Sunita morally responsible to help her husband in funding their expensive education. She had no degrees to help her procure a good job. She felt she could help the ladies in the newly built expansive buildings as a maid. Her sons Raghu, Madhav and Ajinkya found this hard to digest. They looked at her feeble figure and exclaimed, “ We could manage the studies when we grow older”, but Sunita wanted her children to study. She would complete her housework, cook for the family and then walk a kilometre to reach High Bliss  Apartments where she began working till 2 in the afternoon.  Ours was the first house that she would visit. People, where she worked, liked her presence because of her quiet ways. She worked with the same dedication from day one, very soon she was an important being in many of the households. She had to sweep large homes, mop the floor, and wash the utensils. She had refused to wash the clothes because she was a strong devout of Goddess Durga. 

The very first day, Sunita told me that she belonged to a decent family, she would not take any leftovers home because she had Goddess Durga at home. I asked her, ‘what is special about that, we have all the deities here’. She answered saying, ‘ We have the statue, a figurine of the deity and we are the chosen few who have been graced by Goddess’. She also said that she would be possessed by the goddess during the Navratras when she would talk to people. The nine days of Navratri was the only time she would take an off on the first and the last day.  She would seem weak when she would return back for work. She would have her smile and work enthusiastically wiping the window sills and everything that she could to make up for her absence. She did take a few days of leave for her sons’ weddings. That’s true, she had got two of her sons married on the same day as the community hall and the celebrations were expensive. 

A few years back, I saw Sunita groping the dust in the daylight, she tried to cover-up the difficulty of vision for several days. Her work had deteriorated and people who loved her work rebuked her when they found the utensils and the floor unclean. One day as she was sweeping,  I asked her if she was alright. The kind words overwhelmed her, she dropped the broom and pulled out a prescription from the folds of her sari. The doctor’s prescription showed that she suffered from cataract, for the first time I saw pain and agony written on her face and her eyes did show a pale covering. I assured her that it was common and could be cured. She was quick in her actions. She consulted her doctor and got one her eyes operated for cataract. She visited us and said that she needed rest and would get the other eye operated after a few weeks and join back within a couple of months. I waited for her as I had grown used to her honesty and work, she was like a family member now.

During Gauri, the unexpected extension of leave threw my thoughts to celebrations at Sunita’s home as the festival was the first one for the family after the wedding. I still remember that Sunita not very appreciative of a Ganapathi at home as the deity was her priority and somehow her heart seemed to disagree with the great pomp, but the family did not mind it. I wondered whether she was actually ill. She used to carry along my old Samsung phone, but would never pick a call as she was detached from technology. She carried the phone to show the families that she was a trendy maid. 

We were blessed with a Brahma Kamal flower for the first time that year, the continuous rain gave rise to a second bloom in the same season. That afternoon as the celebrations in the building was at the peak, a heard our bell ring. When I opened the door, my neighbour asked me about my maid and enquired whether she was unwell. I felt it was an offer for a  job, but I saw her maid next to her. I said, ‘she has not been coming for the past few days’. My neighbour and the maid said that Sunita breathed her last a few hours back, they said they did not know the reason but she heaved heavily and left the world with the heaving heart…… I could not believe it, I slowly shut the door and walked to the balcony. A gush of strong wind blew, as I looked down I found the bud of the Brahma Kamal lying on the ground. 

“Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone.” ― Mitch Albom