MADHABI

An afternoon on a pre-spring day. The cuckoo’s sound is heard with interludes. Annual exams were over. There was no attraction of going village in the absence of grandparents. Summer holidays would have been enjoyable, if grandparents were around. They spend their summer in Bangalore. The village is not worth visiting in their absence. I was busy with my siblings and friends on a new mission. In the meanwhile Nana (my father) was back form village. Madhabi passed away last night, Nana told. All my interest seized. Everybody at home wore a deserted look.
Everybody knew her days were numbered. Still then her passing away was unbelievable. She was the only sister among seven brothers. Still then she had no ceremonial welcome at the time of her birth. Because she was a female child. She is a distant cousin of mine. She has a delicate body with doe eyes, thick curly hair, always with a smile. All these added grace to her physique. She was hardly three to four months senior to me. But was looked junior in age. She was getting weakened. Dadei (father’s elder brother) had no care for her. He was not that poor for her medication.
Of course she would not have survived despite treatment. At least she could have died in peace. Dadei did not do this much at least. Dadei forcibly discharged her from hospital, even though my uncle admitted her.
What are the returns on spending a fortune on the girl? If she survives what are the benefits? Rather a lot is to be spent on her wedding. Better she is to die. These were arguments of Dadei.
Madhabi knows everything. But has no reaction. She remains busy in her work. She kept the mud built house neat and clean. On the auspicious Thursday of Margasira month, her jhoti (traditional paintings on earth) is the cynosure of all. Not only this, she lends a hand who needs it. Particularly she was of great help to my grandmother. Grandma was weak due to old age. Madhabi helps her in household chorus. Granny loved her much. She had her eyes on the flowers of our garden. Her pale face radiates when a bouquet of flower is handed to her. She has glaze on her emaciated body. Even an enemy could not cast of eyes when she is clad in a red saree and bedecked in flower.
There was a sour fruit tree in their backyard, a focus for children like us. Madhabi rushes to our house, when we come from town. She invites us to her house. She gives us bucket full of fruits. She accompanies us in the mid day to the mango grooves. She plucks mango for us. We make fun and frolic with her. We did not know that she is afflicted with blood cancer. One day she lost consciousness while playing in the orchard. We took her home. Dadei has no mind for day to day life. He was content with ganja. He was ruined consuming ganja. This was a later development. Madhabi did not survive to witness the ruin. Dethei (Dadei’s wife) was un-lettered. They called a sorcer to get rid of evil spirits, in stead of medical treatment. Because our playground was the hunting place for ghost and witches. We did not have the courage to protest, though we did not believe in ghosts. Madhabi better after while. The next morning we came back to the town.
Our last meeting with Madhabi was on the thread ceremony day of my brother. Dadei did not allow dethei to go anywhere. He was very suspicious by nature. Dadei smelt a rat when our dethei chat with a male, even of his son’s age. So, we did not imagine Dethei would come to our house. But, Madhabi came somehow. She was griming with joy. She took a lot of things from my mother, for her mother. She was dreaming of inviting us to her brothers’ thread ceremony. I could not talk much to her on that day. Still she promised to come again.
Ghana Piusa (the husband of father’s sister) had gone to Madhabi’s house to invite them on the marriage function of his son. There was some festival on that day. Madhabi did obeisance to Ghana Piusa. Piusa waited to taste the dishes prepared by her. He could not imagine that he has to perform her funeral rites. Nobody was around except Dethei. Madhabi was busy in cooking. Suddenly she fell down unconscious. There was no scope to talk to anyone. She had taken to the nearest hospital in a bullock cart. But she was no more. She died on the way.
She was tortured a lot, but had no complain against anyone. She died unsung. I discovered tears once when Dadei mowed down the fruit bearing tree. She did not say nothing, but shed bitter silent tears. Dadei came on the following day of her death. He did not mourn, but was happy on being freed from the burden of a girl. I felt him to be a butcher on the day of felling the tree, but now I think he is a murderer.

Word Count:- 864