The Grandma by the Garbage

Sasha was on the verge of giving up and sat on the park platform. It was 6 pm already and the lockdown curfew would start in an hour.

Maybe she should have not taught of this idea. She should have listened to her roommates and stayed back at her room. The cake box from “Suganya Cakes” was holding one large slice of her birthday cake with still a blown-out candle and a cream stained knife. She has not tasted the cake, but the rich chocolate cake looked promising. She remembered Neeta’s mocking tone - “Oh, you are Mother Theresa, aren't you.”

Sasha had turned 29 this June. A raging second wave having tormenting her country and slowly people were getting back to a normal life with no idea of how long it would last. It was her second lockdown birthday and having seen and heard losses so much, she had not much to complain about and almost had a numb feeling towards the celebrations.

The pandemic had taken away her best friend’s father, her neighbour's daughter and her beloved grandmother. She would cry for weeks after having seen her grandmother’s cremation through a video call. The condition became worse later and she had to count herself lucky to even have got a chance to witness her grandmother’s funeral. She would adopt a beautiful brown dog from the streets and name her Sundari (meaning a beautiful woman, in Tamil) after her grandma.

Sasha was always called “a very sensitive person” by her close circle with a lot of love and sometimes sarcasm. She would burst into tears at sentimental scenes at the movies, prepare handmade greeting cards for her best friends with no occasion at all and most of all, loves to love people and dogs. It did get her into lot of troubles.

The other day, she was subjected to an endless stream of swear words from the tramp when she attempted to shield a dog from being hit by his walking stick. Though she consoled herself, by saying that he was not in the right mental state, the fact that she knew the meaning of every single word made her miserable. Her mother when told this would chide her for trying to being the “saviour” and for landing herself in trouble. The pandemic would see a lot of old people abandoned by their families on the streets.

She felt a bit better and even sympathy when the shopkeeper told that the tramp was a coconut seller a few months ago. He had met with an accident and his family, with no money to take care of him had abandoned him on the roads. Few days later, she saw volunteers from old age home taking him to their vehicle.

Then she spotted her.

She was walking, clad in a tattered white saree and a dirty lavender blouse She was carrying a bag full of cardboard and sticks. She was old and fragile, her black hair coated with grime and dust. She would sing to herself and cross her street everyday. The sight of her with the huge bag would set the dogs in her street barking. The old lady would break a huge branch from a nearby tree and continue to walk. She would still be singing but mixed her lyrics with a few swear words.

A few people would give her leftover foods which she would get with a nod and proceed to eat, sitting on the platform right opposite to her house keeping the huge branch near her, just in case. The dogs having given up barking would cautiously approach her. Without a word, she would take a handful of rice and place it on the platform and continue eating. It was a daily sight for Sasha - the grandma, the dogs and finally the team’s lunchtime.

A few months before her birthday, she had ordered a red saree for herself from Amazon. She was not happy with the delivered product but felt lazy about returning it. Suddenly, she had an idea. Why not give it to the old lady? She knew where she stayed. On an abandoned fruit cart beside the garbage dump that was right around the corner. She was missing at her place. Sasha had almost walked back to her home when she spotted her walking in front of her. She immediately called her “Paatiii!!” (which is Tamil for grandmother ). The old woman turned with a shocking expression and would ask her “enniya kannu kupitae” (meaning, did you call me dear). The way the old lady’s eyes lit up with kindness and her first sign of smile would stay with Sasha for days.

She gave her the saree and the old lady would take it nodding her usual way and walk as if not happened. Something moved inside Sasha and she felt as if her beloved grandmother had spoken to her.

Every year, it was her grandmother who would set the festivities for Sasha’s birthday. That means the table would be set with all of her favourites - Vegetable biryani, kesari sweet ( a semolina based sweet), chips and Sasha’s only favourite Death by Chocolate cake. The moment Sasha would blow the candles to an enthusiastic chorus of ”happy birthday Sasha”, she would cut the first piece and walk towards her. Grandma would kiss her forehead , take a big chunk and feed her while munching the part Sasha had fed her.

She had been dreading this year’s birthday because it was the first year after grandma’s death.

The night of her birthday, she cut the first piece of chocolate cake and saved it in a plastic box much to the eye roll from her friends because they knew the recipient of that piece and also that Sasha would not eat her cake until the first piece was eaten.

She was waiting for the lady to cross her street for all day but she did not. She took the cake box and went to all places where she had spotted her but to no avail. Almost with tears, Sasha sat by the platform and wondered what to do. Maybe she is sick, maybe she went somewhere else and did a yippee when she saw her walking towards the cart.

Sasha ran towards her with such a joy that the old lady had to stop a few steps before in caution. “Paati,inaiku enaku porandha naal”(grandma, today is my birthday), she gushed and handed over the cake box. The old lady, raised her right hand in a gesture as if blessing her and Sasha, unable to hold herself anymore,turned and ran back to her home with tears streaming down her face.

The next day, when she was taking Sundari for a walk, she saw a huge crowd gathered in front of the old lady’s cart and noticed she was missing again.

Someone from the crowd told her that, the volunteers from the old age home had taken her away. One half happy for her safety and one huge part missing her, Sasha nodded solemly.

“But you know what was the funny part” the man conveying the news asked Sasha.

“ When the volunteers were trying to take her, she gave them one condition - to let her finish eating the cake. We were all watching at her eating the cake with a big smile and closed her eyes, bloody old woman and her craving for cak- ”

he would stop midway looking her Sasha’s eyes welling with tears.

When the crowd parted , Sasha would see the empty cake box holding morsels of the happily eaten chocolate cake.

For the first time, Sasha was happy it was her birthday.