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Writer's pictureNozzer Pardiwala

Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!


Tale 01- KEki kaKA

Bye! Bye!! … Aflatoon!!!

“Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!” Khorshed would shout loudly whenever an airplane flew over their cottage. She could never reconcile with the fact that Aflatoon Irani, her fiance, was no more. He died in an airplane crash.

She lived with her younger brother Khushroo after their Parent’s demise. Together, they ran a small bakery through their home which was known in the area, for its cream rolls.

It was their family secret recipe passed on from generations.

Khorshed was thin, almost fragile with a long mane which was fast receding. Khushroo would oil her hair everyday and comb it for her. A long ponytail, similar to the one their mother Silloo Baugwala would tie it for her.

Khushroo was a replica of their father, Sam Baugwala, only in the physical appearance though. Short and plump. Temperamentally they were like chalk and cheese. Khushroo was calm as a cucumber whereas Sam was very short tempered and was a cleanliness and discipline freak. Everyone in the family had to follow the rules of cleanliness he had laid down which only he could alter, which mostly he never did.

There was a fish shape soap for washing hands after poo and a round one to be used otherwise. Dare anyone of them make a mistake and he would yell the hell out of them.

Food in Silloo’s kitchen was kept in a lock and key. Especially the dry fruits. Monday was for apricots, Tuesday for black raisins so on and so forth.

Kayomarz, the youngest of the siblings died because his asthma pump went missing one day and by the time each lock was opened and closed, he succumbed to his untimely death. It didn’t change things for Sam but Silloo could take it no more. One Sunday morning; after cooking Dhandhar Patyo (Dal rice and a red curry) which had to be every Sunday lunch from ever since; she left the earthly plane as silent as she had always been.

Khorshed and Khushroo both had passed forty and even though Silloo had tried finding a suitable match, matrimony didn’t seem to be working out for the siblings. Finally, one day, through Aban Masi’s (aunt) efforts they found a nearly suitable match for Khorshed, Aflatoon Irani. He was tall, handsome and a very charming gentleman. He was a divorcee but had no kids from his first marriage. Khorshed, for some reason, liked him at the very first meeting and agreed to marry. They were engaged and Aflatoon started visiting the home frequently. More for the Cream rolls than Khorshed, by his own confession. Khorshed didn't mind the reason, she was smitten by his charm.

After years, Khorshed was starting to feel happy. 25th February was to be the special day when finally Khorshed would leave Sam’s almost, tyrannically ruled home and move to Aflatoon’s Dahanu Farm House.

But, destiny had other plans. Aflatoon had to take a business flight to another city and Khorshed’s beautiful dreams crashed into pieces with Aflatoon’s airplane.

Now there was the Baugwala home, the Baugwala bakery and three people who had no conversations between them.

Sam was so ill equipped with emotions that he couldn’t even console his daughter for the loss.

Khushroo had made working in the bakery, his reason to live. He almost functioned like a machine and maybe became one, devoid of emotions.

The bakery, too ,was losing its charm and customers with more and more cake shops coming up in the vicinity and Of course, the cream rolls too had lost their magic after Silloo left.

Khorshed would often mess up with the recipe and eventually she stopped working at the bakery. For hours, she would stare outside the window, as if waiting for Aflatoon to come back. Intermittently, she would walk to the cottage gate and look up towards the sky. Every time she would spot an airplane, she would wave out with happiness, genuine happiness, and shout out loud, “Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!”

Initially, like the neighbors, Khushroo and Sam both, thought it was a momentary repercussion and would go away with time. But it never did.

Sam, as a father, had never built a relationship with his kids to even try and attempt to reach out to Khorshed. He, silently, knew and felt her pain. Once in a while overcoming his awkwardness, he ran his fingers over her head, with eyes full of haplessness. In return, Khorshed would keep smiling, till something triggered her to walk up to the gate and wave out to the passing airplane.

At times, she would go into her manic self. She would eat too much of cream which was kept for the cream rolls or just mix up masalas (spices) into tea and mostly always, wear her clothes inside out. Even her personal hygiene was not something she would care for.

The kids in the lane started to tease her “Khorshed gandi” (Mad Khorshed). They would wait for her to come out and start waving to the airplane and they would wave with her. She would believe they were all waving out to Aflatoon and so she would urge them to shout with her “Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!

Sam would rush from the backdoor of the bakery with his stick and drive the kids away. Khushroo would hold her and get her back into the home.

One day, the cream rolls, somehow, turned out to be the best. Like the ones Silloo would make. Sam did the routine of tasting the first one and after one morsel and with the delight on his wrinkled round face, he sat still at the bakery counter.

Now there was, the Baugwala home, the Baugwala bakery and the two Baugwala siblings.

Aban's visit to their home had stopped long back. Since not in many words but Sam blamed her for Khorshed’s condition. Khushroo tried managing the Bakery but couldn’t after a while, with the added responsibility of taking care of Khorshed. The Baugwala Bakery soon became a simple go to store for the kids to pick up small knickknacks like balloons, magnifying glasses, and toffees. Khushroo managed the expenses with whatever Sam had left behind.

He would wake up before Khorshed. Walk down to the market and buy the foodstuffs for the day. He never would buy anything in advance for the next day. He would make tea and breakfast, for Khorshed and himself, which was always scrambled egg and home made bread. That’s one thing Khushroo had learned well from their mother Silloo.

He would push Khorshed into the bath, and keep reminding her to use soap and wash her hair. Practically everyday, he ended up dressing her, as she would wear her clothes inside out. She mostly wore their mother Silloo’s Ijar (loose quarter length pyjamas) with Khushroo’s shirt. Khushroo would tie up her hair, a long ponytail, like their mother Silloo would tie it for her.

Khorshed would sit listless eating her scrambled egg while Khushroo would shuffle between the Bakery counter and the kitchen. They had never shared a deep relation before that. But now, both were dependent on each other. Khushroo never had a life of his own so he had never known anyone other than his family which then comprised of only himself and Khorshed.

Khorshed was never aggressive but her passive silence for hours in itself was substantially disturbing. Aban had always suggested that Khorshed needed help but none in the family ever took her suggestion seriously. They probably were comfortable in their state of denial.

As her mental health deteriorated ,it became more and more difficult for Khushroo to manage all by himself. The good old Baugwala Bakery had to be shut down. Thankfully or not, the sharks of redevelopment were opening their mouths wide open in their vicinity. The Baugwala cottage was a big plot for any of these sharks to be lured by.

Aban's son helped the process, got them a ground floor flat and enough money to sustain their empty life. The Baugwala cottage and bakery were replaced by a tall tower.

The tall structures appeared to be competing with one another.

For Khorshed, there was no reason now to even step out of the house. She could barely see the sky amidst the tall towering demons.

Khushroo’s day still comprised of the same. He would wake up before Khorshed and visit the market. He still preferred the old market as compared to the super market. He felt lost in it. Breakfast was still scrambled eggs. Now Khushroo had to feed Khorshed every morsel. Bakery wasn’t existing anymore so he didn’t have much work except for cooking and cleaning.

One day, while Khushroo was busy cleaning the cupboards, he realized that every time he placed some folded cloth on the bed it would be strewn down. It was Khorshed! Khushroo folded one cloth, she unfolded it and threw it down. He did it again and she repeated the drill. It almost became like a game for both of them. He removed heaps of stalked clothes and both unfolded them and strewn it all over the room. Khorshed walked into the kitchen and opened up all the cabinet doors. Khushroo followed suit and opened up all boxes and jars of food stuffs.

Khorshed had a smile on her face, which Khushroo realized much later. He was caught up in the liberating revelry.

Khorshed suddenly started searching for something in the kitchen. Khushroo noticed her frantic movements when Khorshed got hold of an old, empty, glass jar which once upon a time housed the Cream Rolls. On seeing her emotionless face Khushroo knew what he had to do.

Amidst the room and the kitchen, strewn with clothes and open doors of cupboards and cabinets the siblings set out to make the cream rolls. The happiness on Khorshed’s face was something Khushroo had never seen after Aflatoon’s exit from her life.

The cream rolls in their most uncanny form were ready and both of them ate them like they did when they were kids. Licking the cream topped up on the roll and then sucking out the remaining from within it. The taste, surely, would be nothing to match with what Silloo made but the joy of eating the cream rolls was the same.

That day on, the two of them, started sharing completely a new relationship of just being. Khushroo started waking up Khorshed with him. They would hold hands and walk to the old market.

He taught her to make scrambled eggs, which were pathetic. They tried out kharo poro (Salted Omelet), fried eggs, akuri ( a spicy scrambled egg dish) and sometimes they skipped breakfast for a longer walk in the market.

Khushroo didn’t have to feed her any longer but at times she would hide her palms into the long sleeves of the shirt and pretend as if she had no hands. Khushroo would play in and humor her.

One thing Khorshed never wishfully wanted to learn was to comb her hair. Khushroo happily did it for her. The Ponytail!

One day as they were walking towards the old market Khorshed felt the urge to look up towards the sky. Khushroo realizing her urge, looked up too and shouted softly, “Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!” and Khorshed reluctantly joined in. They both ran up to the railing of the bridge, where the fisher-woman lined up to sell the catch, and started waving towards the pinch of visible sky... shouting “Bye! Bye!! Aflatoon!!!”.

The fisher-woman and the few people passing by may have found their behavior strange but it didn’t stop the two from yelling their guts out.

That was the last time Aflatoon’s name was spoken.

One morning, Khushroo overslept and woke up suddenly to realize that Khorshed was still sleeping. He went into the kitchen and started making tea. While brushing his teeth he dropped the mint leaves into the simmering mixture. He glanced at Khorshed sleeping peacefully. He kissed her forehead. It had been a while that he had displayed such affection for her.

He woke her up! But she never stirred!

Now there was the Baugwala house. 100 grams of silence. 50 grams of inanimate things, 10 grams of fond memories and Khushroo.

 

There were only a few people who attended the funeral.

Probably it was Aban and her son, a few old neighbors and Khushroo.

All others left after the Paidas (final journey to the well of death).

Khushroo shared his grief and the tale of the Baugwala family and started walking towards the exit. The last glimpse I had of him was, him waving out to something in the sky.

He did utter something... but the words were too faint to reach me. Probably…

KEki kaKA

 

*Do catch up, next Sunday, with your late morning cup of tea or maybe coffee. KEki kaKA will be sharing his second tale... If you feel something in the blog touched you, if KEki kaKA reminds you of someone you have known, do write to me at nozzer.p@gmail.com

*If you missed KEki kaKA's introduction, Click here.

 

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