An unlikely friendship
In the heart of Ooty, seventy-year old Achamma lived in the
middle of a huge estate. Today she was relaxing on the swing in the courtyard
and smiling to herself. She looked at Neeta standing in a corner and felt as if
she were her own daughter. Achamma felt a great bonding with Neeta and wanted
to take care of her well, for the few days she was there.
Achamma’s own son moved to the city for higher studies, got
married there and now lived there with wife and daughter Ramya. He was not a
bad son in any way and doted on his mother on the contrary, but moving to the village
house and taking care of the huge estate was something which he would not
consider in his wildest of dreams. The family returned to the estate twice
every year for a week-long holiday and they were clearly Achamma’s favorite
days in the year. She visited them in the town once every two years or so and
never so much as entertained the suggestion of moving there permanently,
leaving the place her husband built with heartfelt love.
Neeta looked at Achamma who seemed to be lost in her
own world of thoughts. Achamma noticed her present stare. “Would you have tea, ponnu? You must be so tired after a long
night of relaxing sleep?” She laughed at her own joke. Neeta smiled, “I will
make it, pati. You sit here.” “Hell,
no! You are our guest. Wait, I will get some tea and bhajji for you, instantly. Or would you have instant coffee?” She
laughed at her comic word repetition. Neeta saw her getting into the kitchen.
No wonder Ramya was upset with her grandmother for not employing any help for
the kitchen.
Achamma was the caretaker of the estate more than its
owner. She loved tending to the plants, working in the kitchen, nurturing the
farm animals and everything else that went in to the place. Neeta was a
traveler who heard that sometimes the estate was open to taking guests Achamma
agreed as soon as Neeta called her and now there she was.
As Achamma went into the kitchen to get her something
to eat, Neeta reveled in the beauty of the place. Soft instrumental music was
playing in the background. The amalgamation of the flute and the santoor made
the place come alive with serenity. Achamma loved this kind of music and it had
been playing since the time Neeta had arrived. She wondered how Achamma had
thought of the name ‘ponnu’ for her. It was sweet and endearing from the moment
she had heard it first. She wondered what her life would have been here while growing
up, how she has her husband would have tendered to the estate as if it was
their child.
In the kitchen Achamma was wondering about how Neeta’s
life was in the city. She never liked it there, in the sound and pollution, and
was surprised more people did not want to live close to nature. She poured some
coffee into two tumblers and started walking back to the swing.
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