Short Fiction I Tanishka Singh
My childhood home was a decent place to live in. There were memories engraved in each cup of coffee that touched our lips, in every light switch that responded to my brother’s touch, the curtains that knew my mother’s hands, every wall that pencil-marked my growth, with the stairs that produced a new melody with every set of feet, railings that knew every tap of my fingers, and glass panes that lit up with sunshine. I knew every brick of that house.
‘We are never going to leave this place, Jiya,’ my brother said one day. We were looking at the sunset from our veranda. Cicadas weren’t out yet and everything was bathed in yellow. Even the plants looked golden, so did he.
‘Why do you say that?’ I asked him, ‘We will leave when we go to college, won’t we?’
‘That would be temporary.’
‘You would have to leave after your marriage.’ I pointed.
‘Then I won’t marry.’
‘What is it that you like so much about this place?’ I asked.
‘Why? Do you not like it here?’
‘I do, but not enough to stop me from leaving.’
‘Well, I like it very much and I would never want to leave it. I don’t know what it is about this place, but it has always felt like home to me.’ The golden light shimmered in his eyes. He was facing forward, not once had he looked at me.
‘Why?’ I asked again.
‘You know, before you were born, we used to change places a lot. Papa used to get transferred all the time. And for the life of it, our father could never say no. It was always a new place, a new school, a new friend, a new neighbor for me. I was never given enough time to breathe into any place. As soon as I got used to it, we would change again. Maybe that is why I grew attached to this house. It is not all the time, and I know that. But I cannot really express what this place means to me. It was like finally something concrete. Something that I can allow myself to have a relationship with.’
It was silent after and we watched the sun drown together. ‘But gross!!,’it was me who broke the silence first, ‘you have a relationship with this house!! Can you not find a person for that!?’ I said sticking my tongue out. For this, I got smacked in the head and elbowed in my rib.
A few months later, the school session was over. On a bright sunny day that carried no forbearance of what was to come, everything shifted. The television was going a little too loud when my father came back home. Me and my brother were fighting over the remote. When my father entered the netted door, we were both ready to blame the noise on the other. But something was off by the way he carried himself to the sofa that day. It was a premonition.
At dinner father announced that we will be changing cities, that he’s getting transferred. Everyone ate the news with dinner. I looked over at my brother, he was staring at his plate. Something was stuck in his throat.
We shifted within two months. It was a three room apartment in a posh area of the unaccustomed city. It did what all a house is supposed to do. It protected us from thundering weathers and raging Gods, words laced with poison and furious animals.
We had left our friends behind, and making new ones was not that easy. Still, it was a solace that we had each other.
Most times, after dinner he would say, ‘Let’s go for a walk, Jiya. To digest all the food.’
I rarely whined, even when my feet ached , and even when we had a lot to do from school. I studied for my boards while his days went away in coachings, exams and college preparations. It was the only time we were able to spend time together now.
This wandering of his, was believed to be a huge waste of time by my parents, but they never questioned him on it. He got good grades and they could brag about him. It was enough for them. So they left him to do whatever he wished. But I watched my brother wander around the blocks more than I saw him at home now.
‘I don’t want to go back just yet.’ he said one day when we were walking together. It was late in the night, and I had reminded him of just that.
‘Why?’ I asked, ‘Why do you insist on staying outside all the time?’
‘Just because,’ he responded.
‘That’s not it.’ I said, swatting his arm which was immediately responded with a chop on mine.
‘But seriously, what is it?’
‘It’s just more comfortable,’ he said. ‘In the apartments, it’s so closed that I cannot breathe sometimes. Everything just seems like it is closing in. That I’m stuck in between, and I cannot push it away from consuming me. Maybe it is not that serious, but the outside is more comfortable for me.’ He grinned.
So we continued walking. And it was another hour or so, before we finally decided that it was time to go back.
Soon, he completed his studies and was out of the house. He got admission in a university in the metropolitan Delhi. In the city, we were greeted by screaming and yelling, by the smiling shopkeepers waiting to sell their best products and rickshaw drivers fighting over customers. It was all so consistently moving and changing. Everyone was so busy with everything. It was a fast moving city. We all went to drop him off at his hostel. Mother set his clothes in the closet and father, his bedding.
It was far off in the evening when we first talked after the tiring day. We were having our usual fights, but none of us was able to have a conversation. It was finally hitting me that he was leaving. He would come back, but maybe it would never be the same. Our parents were busy talking to the caretaker about the documents required for admission.
‘So? Do you think you’ll be able to survive here?’ I asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘I came this far, didn’t I?’ he laughed.
‘I see.’ And then we said our goodbyes. My eyes were glistening, I was on the verge of spilling tears but something happened and instead we fought again. We were bickering until the very end, until our parents were back, and it was time for me to go.
We were saying our final goodbyes and all I could hear was the girls who were fighting over earrings at our side, in the street. There were more of them eating golgappas, and the automobiles whirring away, snaking away to their destination. There were crowds of families, chirping and laughing among the constant noise. I saw my brother take everything in. There was something in his eyes, an awe as he took in the bustle of this strange city. It was louder than the ones we were from.
I may be wrong because it was almost evening, and every light was reflecting on our faces, but I think his eyes were sparkling. It was not from the maybe-crying session we were going to have just minutes ago. It was more like fireworks in there. He looked like a child left alone in an arcade, where the neon from all the games wash over you, and overexcited, you run amok. And for the first time in so long, I thought that he would actually be alright. Maybe in all this noise he would not be alone.
Because at least for now, I thought, our bodies were still young, for now birthdays were not yet something ordinary. For now, we still waited with baited breath for new experiences that this life would bring. At least for now he did not look tired. It was after so long.