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| A. Muttulingam (Author) |
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| R. Shanmuga Sundaram (Translator) |
Today is the cash reconciliation
day. We will combine my income and what dad gets from his gardening work and
count them. Then, dad will go to the bank and pay the due for the loan. At that
time, he will look at me oddly. It will disturb and do something to my heart.
I have not accomplished anything
substantial in life. There is no point in knowing my name. I have not achieved
any milestone in my studies, intelligence or beauty. I should talk only about
my sisters. What they would become was already inside their bodies even then. I
only did not know. The eldest of my sister is Samantha. Her job required a
special kind of expertise. It is doubtful whether there would be even a hundred
like her on this earth.
The second sister’s name is Pamela.
If you line up the lazy persons of the world, she will be the third one in the
second row of the first file. As to her beauty, it was ordinary. She will touch
her books hesitatingly as if touching a worm. She is married to an ultra-rich
person in Chicago, where you have to bend your body backwards to look at the
tall buildings. She does not have to do anything. She will change her dress
four times a day. To please her husband in a variety of new dresses is her only
duty.
The last sister is Rebecca. She is
a beauty who will seduce anyone in a second. Her smile will blossom like blood
slowly draining. Eyelashes that extend beyond her face. Her neck size and the
waist size are almost the same. Like a good swordsman wielding his sword in all
directions, she will deploy her charm all around. No matter how one exaggerates
her beauty, it would be an understatement. She got married only recently. She
really struggled to choose one among her four determined suitors.
Our home has two rooms. Since the
right wall of the house is common with the house of the neighbour, there is no
window on that wall. The cherry tree stood in front of the car park. An old
tree, dad says it is at least 100 years old. The neighbour does not like the
tree at all. He keeps complaining to the municipality that it is going to fall
any time on his house and will kill him and is waiting for their decision. I am
waiting for the month of March. Only then the cherry tree will blossom.
I have a lot to say about my first
sister. She married her assistant and lives in a thirty-storey building in New
York. Her apartment is on the upper floor. Her office is in the lower floor.
The husband and wife work at least 18 hours with multiple assistants. You can’t
catch Samantha in an emergency. Words will wear out her mouth is her belief.
You can reach her only by SMS.
To restore very old, but valuable
books with skill and artistry without compromising their integrity is her job.
She would get mostly books in English. Since her husband knows Hebrew, she
would get Hebrew books too. If the
British museum gets an ancient book, immediately Samantha would fly down there.
If the head of the Israel National Library announces that an antique book has
been found, she would be there the next day. She will never visit dad or me who
are just two hours away.
Dad and I are the only ones in the
house. Even from a young age, I desired to fill my head with knowledge. It
never worked out. I prepared for CPA and passed the examination. Clients came
looking for me. Initially, I did their income tax returns for free as a
practice for me. Now, I have made it my profession by converting one of the
rooms into an office.
There was a single large picture
that was hung in the parlour of our home. In that, all four of us are on
display. When dad took the picture with his camera, I was 14 years old. My
eldest sister was 13. Next one was 12 and the last one was 11. We the four
sisters have already come to the decision by then. Even if we have separate
Facebook accounts, this was the profile picture. We cannot remove it for any
reason whatever. I would receive questions every day. Who are you? Are you this
one or that one? I will never answer. Most questions would be about who was the
one on the leftmost. It was Rebecca.
She has quite a few friends in
Facebook. They fell in love without meeting her face to face. Maybe she would
have hinted something to them, can’t say. She likes the attention from the men.
She used to say that there are many poets in her admirers. All of them
plagiarised poems. ‘If my exhale my breath, his lungs fill, it seems!’. Another
one will say ‘Your arrival is as beautiful as 100 cranes landing’. ‘Like an
army encircling a town, he will enfold and suffocate me. He describes me as a
filled wine glass. But he drinks the wine like a desert camel in a single
gulp’.
Rebecca was not married then. She
brought her latest boyfriend home once. She will keep the cell phone in her
palm and speak holding it near her nose as if sniffing it. When she winked, I
understood that she was going to do something naughty. I looked at her
boyfriend. Hair grown long and cut sharply. A jacket of soft leather. Shiny
shoes. Charming face. If he scrubs his face a couple of times, he would become
more handsome. With his mouth like split oyster shell, he was taking in
Rebecca. When he was about to move the teacup to his lips, she suddenly lifted
one leg and put it over the other. That movement was as if she was gripping
something strongly with her thighs. He shuddered and split the tea on the
floor. For the next half hour, he was on his knees wiping the floor.
When dad is around, I would be
irritated as to why he still has not gone to work. Once he is gone, my heart
would long for his return. A tension will grip me. That morning, an egg was
spoilt. Dad sank into an inconsolable sadness. I said ‘it is just an egg’.
‘Just an egg? An egg white. A yolk’. It looked as if he was about to cry. He
used to get angry for even little things. Now, he converts even a simple thing
into a sad event.
Dad who used to come home tired in
the evening was visibly excited that day. The id card of his erstwhile company
was around his neck. The front of his thick gardening clock will show what soup
he had for lunch. ‘I saw a trillium flower today’ he said. ‘What is that?’ I
asked. ‘It is a white flower with three petals. The plant will die if you pluck
the flower. It is illegal to pluck in some countries. The exception of a
flower, but it is beautiful’ he explained. Suddenly, he fell silent as his
thoughts went elsewhere and his enthusiasm drained. Without looking me in the
eye, he asked ‘Am I a good father to you?’. ‘Why do you doubt that dad?’. ‘All
your younger sisters are married. Don’t you feel sad about that?’ ‘What sadness
dad? The world is full of exceptions is something you have told us. The planet
Venus near the earth rotates in the opposite direction unlike other
planets’.
In the months when income tax
returns are prepared, I will have a flood of clients reaching out to me. I will
complete their work promptly. They will also pay for the services. A new client
came to visit one day. His lower lip and upper lip were of the same thickness.
It was kind of attractive. His voice was deep as if there were ten persons in
the room. I reconciled his income tax account. I also taught him techniques of
how best to reduce tax in the coming years. When paying me, he gave me an
enchanting look. And smiled kindly. He also promised to call. I waited. He did
not turn up to do the next year’s income tax filing.
It was cash reconciliation day. Unexpectedly
my second sister Pamela came to see me. She would not come without a reason.
Last time, she came to announce that the finance minister had invited them for
dinner. Dad had taken substantial loans for her education. She never took her
studies seriously. She went around with boys. She will come home and shout at
dad if he delayed sending her money. That day, she came in silently in a brick
red car. Even as she entered, she wrinkled her nose as if there was a bad smell
in the house. She looked around the house she had lived for 16 years as if it
is something new. She was wearing a long, ash colored dress as if she was going
for a dinner party, which was continuously slipping from her shoulder. She is
an expert in selecting dresses in colors that highlight her eyes. A hairdo that
would have set back a hairdresser at least two hours. Grey colored sandals with
heels that gripped her feet tightly. She did not sit down. Like a revolving
door, she neither came in nor went out but stood bobbing. Then she left as
abruptly as she came.
Only after she went towards her
car, I had a thought. Why did she come? She is not the kind who would visit me
or dad because of an outpouring of compassion. While going, she stood on the
driveway and clicked on the cell phone. The car automatically moved and stopped
near her gently. Without turning, she got into the car and drove away. Only
after she had gone, it occurred to me that she had come to show off her new
Tesla car. When dad returned, I did not tell him about Pamela’s visit. I gave
him the cash from my earnings. He counted it quietly and went to the bank to
deposit it.
When there is no gardening work,
dad will scrutinize the old wedding invitations of all and sundry. He has a
collection of more than a hundred. Because of the hard gardening work he does,
his wrists will always be swollen. He will tie ice bags on both hands and will
play chess with himself. That day, he moved to the black
king to B6 and looked as if looking at his opponent. The hair at the front part
of his head receded and his wide brow shone. A vision that will invoke pity.
How did mum elope with someone leaving behind him and four daughters? How deep
that love should have been? I have seen one day dad kissing mum on her nape.
‘Did not mum love you dad?’ I asked. ‘Love will come to nothing in the end like
soap that wears out gradually’. He turned the board and played for the white
king. Once the game was over, I asked him who won. He replied that he won. I
asked who lost. He replied for that too that it was he who lost. Almost like
his life.
I think that was the last game of
chess he played. He was slowly disappearing into his body. Some days, he forgot
to go to work. When asked something, he stared on without answering. His gaze
extended beyond me. One day, I asked him ‘Dad, what is your name?’. He was
startled and looked as if I asked him to recite the multiplication table of
sevens in the reverse order. Then he lifted up the id card hanging around his
neck and read out his name to me. I was stunned.
The Facebook friend who had
promised to meet me today was handsome in the picture. I have never given first
priority to beauty. He talked to me over phone that was attractive to me. He
begged me many times to tell him where I was in the picture. I did not disclose
the information, but he said he had guessed it. I asked him how. He said it is
the similarity between my voice and the picture. I asked him whether he can
guess how my face will be now based on a picture that was taken ten years ago.
He said yes.
He beseeched me many times that he
will come to meet me. I kept delaying. But he never stopped troubling me. About
a week ago, he left a message on the telephone. The telephone asked to me to
press 11. I pressed. He wants to see me. He asked for a date. He asked me to
imagine that he was an income tax client. The telephone asked to press 8 if I
wanted to answer. To save the message, it asked me to press 9. To delete the
message, it asked me to press 7. I pressed 7.
After a couple of days, there was
an SMS from him. ‘The cherry tree in your house has bloomed beautifully’. I was
astounded. ‘How did you know?’. ‘I checked it on Google’. Was he a nature
lover? He must be a good person. He has not seen my face. He knows me just as
the one who does income tax assessments. Can I trust him? I gave my consent to
meet on 27th of March. I do not know whether he realized the importance of the
date.
Today is the day he is supposed to
come.
He said he would come at 10:30 in
the morning. I have engineered such that no other clients were expected on that
day. There were income tax files organized on the table. I straightened them. I
hid the long stockings drying on the chair. I have told him almost all the
details about me. I might have missed one or two details. After all, that is
what that makes it interesting. I was ready. Only official dress. No makeup. A
bit of eyeliner and a little extra lipstick. He should never realize that I
have decked myself up for him.
The time was exactly 10:28. The
sound of a car arriving and stopping was heard. I opened the window curtain
slowly and looked out. He closed the car door. The light inside the car lit up.
He waited until it switched off. He looked up. My heart started pumping. The
winter was over and leaves started coming out on the trees. The cherry tree
alone was full of light blue blossoms. There was not a single leaf. March 27
was the peak day for cherry trees. An abundance of flowers will bloom hiding
the tree. The leaves would come out only after now. A tree which is an
exception. He looked up and for a full minute stood there enjoying the flowers.
The sound of climbing stairs. After a few seconds, the calling bell sounded. I quickly
adjusted my dress. I straightened the breathing tube so as not to stumble. I
moved towards the door. The oxygen cylinder equipped with a chip followed me
like a devoted dog. I collected myself, paused and thought about what was going
to happen in the next minute. I put my left hand on the door handle and opened
the door.
***Ended***
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