Stair House
“She treats me very badly. The saddest part is that even my son says I am a pest.” Her voice cracked. “Yes, Bittu takes her side. He thinks I complain the whole day, that I’m a nuisance. Yes, I complain, I do. But when I am treated like a dog, whom do I go to? My son, right?”
Sheel pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He couldn’t follow some of her words but felt bad for the woman.
“It was not so bad when my husband was alive. He was a big man whom people feared. But when he got sick five years ago, his health deteriorated so fast that he became gaunt and bony.” The woman gulped as she tried not to cry. “I don’t think my daughter-in-law wanted to spend money on him. He died one day in his sleep. My husband died… he left me alone. I had been with him since I was nine. He died and I didn’t know how to live without him.”
There was silence. She leaned against the door and took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” Sheel asked.
“Once he was gone, my life was over. She made it hell for me. Bittu has changed. He doesn’t even talk to me properly nowadays; he is very rude. He has become a big person now and is ashamed of me. He screams at me when I ask him to take me back to my village. I want to return; to my husband’s house, my village.” Sheel could see tears well up in her eyes.
“When we have guests, I am asked to come dressed in a new sari and sit silently in one corner of the room; even my husband’s old friends who visit… they nod at me and smile at me but no one talks to me. There is something in the way they look at me… they think I am insane.”
Sheel noticed that even in anger she did not raise her voice. She was depressed, heart-broken, but certainly not mentally ill. He liked her. In the afternoon, Sheel returned to see his stair house friend again. He brought her some apples this time. She seemed to be in a better mood, and told him more about his head line and money line.