As Nasreen let herself into the house, she wondered whether Madamji's mood was any better than last evening. In the three years that Nasreen had been working at Shilpa Madam's house as a housekeeper, she had seen her employer's best and worst behavior. At her best, Shilpa madam would ask Nasreen to help herself to tea and snacks at tea time and ask Nasreen about her family members, how she manages to study after spending nearly the whole day working as a maid at two households. At her kindest best, Shilpa madam convinced Nasreen's mother to let her continue studying and agreed to pay the amount needed to pay her fees. At her worst, Shilpa madam had once flung a steaming hot cup of tea out of a window when she was upset.
Last evening Shilpa madam seemed to get more and more upset with each phonecall that she received. Nasreen never eavesdropped and she wouldnt understand what her madamji was saying anyway because she didnt understand English too well. As she swept the floor and dusted the furniture she glanced at her Madam's angry face. Madamji kept muttering something under her breath and pacing the room. She instructed Nasreen not to chop vegetables for dinner and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Today Nasreen stepped lightly into the house and found Madamji in the kitchen, pouring tea for herself. "Tum piyogi?", she offered to pour some tea for Nasreen without turning to look at her. "Nahi didi", Nasreen answered and started the water to wash the dishes. As Shilpa turned to Nasreen and instructed her about the chores to be done, it was clear from her face that she had not slept well. Nasreen always wondered how madamji looked all fresh and dewy at any time of the day but today she looked so old. So tired. Nasreen concentrated on washing the dishes and continued to nod, acknowledging madamji's instructions.
Nasreen finished washing the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. She washed and chopped the vegetables madamji had left on the counter, covered them and picked up the broom to begin sweeping the house. As she walked into the living room she saw madamji sit on the sofa looking outside the window as she sipped her tea. Nasreen quickly dusted the furniture and began to sweep the floor when the door opened and Shilpa's husband Arun let himself in. He held his briefcase in one hand and a huge shopping bag in another. He seemed to be avoiding looking at both women but briefly looked towards Madamji as he slowly removed his shoes and kept his briefcase aside. Nasreen continued sweeping and darted a sideways glance at madamji, who was furiously staring at Arun.
Shilpa slammed the tea cup on the wooden teapoy and marched into the bedroom without saying a word. Arun briefly looked at Nasreen sheepishly and took out a gift wrapped box from inside the shopping bag. He adjusted the little red ribbon at the top of the box covered in silver wrapping paper, sighed heavily and dragged his feet into the bedroom. Nasreen could hear muffled sounds of madamji angrily saying something and occasional silence. She could hear the door slamming - probably the bathroom door or the door of the wardrobe. Some more angry voices and the occasional silence. Nasreen continued to sweep the floors and prayed that her favorite employees would stop fighting. She saw Shilpa and Arun as the ideal couple who rarely fought until a few months ago, after they had happily given Nasreen a bonus and a box of sweets to celebrate his promotion at work. He had started returning home late and madamji would often sit in the balcony waiting for him.
As Nasreen loaded the washing machine and measured out the detergent, the angry voices suddenly got louder. She was startled as the she heard the bedroom door open and Shilpa rushed out with the gift wrapped box in hand, yelling something in English. A visibly upset Arun followed her into the living room saying something to her in a pleading voice. Nasreen cautiously followed them only to see Shilpa madam throw the gift box out of the balcony attached to the living room. The moment she threw the gift out, Arun fell silent and continued to look outside. Shilpa madam glared at him for a few seconds and stormed past Nasreen. Just before slamming the bedroom door shut, she held it slightly open and yelled out in Hindi,"Nasreen, you go home now. No need to come tommorrow. Come back when I call you..if I call you.". The bedroom door slammed shut. Arun stood in the balcony with his back to Nasreen. She went back to the washing machine and set it to complete the wash. She closed the door softly and left the house hoping things would be better soon. She had a fleeting thought about how nice it would have been if she understood English better. She would understand what they were fighting about.
As she walked out of the building she thought about the shiny gift box that Madamji had flung out of the balcony. Nasreen had never received a gift like that..not even on her birthday. She always knew what her baba would get her - a new dress. Not packed in a box or giftwrapped or anything. Just folded and shoved into a plastic bag at the value store they always bought clothes from. She couldnt blame her dear father who was providing for his family as well as a taxi driver could.
On impulse Nasreen walked towards the boundary wall of the building to see if the gift was still lying in the adjoining compund. She didnt see it in the hands of any of the pesky kids playing in the compound so she hoped it was still there.
As she stood on her toes to look over the boundary wall, she saw the shiny box lying behind thorny shrubs. It was getting dark but the shiny box seemed to call out to Nasreen. She couldnt take her eyes off its brilliance. She needed to get it before the pesky kids start investigating what she was doing in this secluded area of the compound. Nasreen adjusted her dupatta and tied it tightly at her waist. She removed her footwear and stuck her foot partly into a little crevice in the brick wall of the compound. The last time she had ever scaled a wall, she was seven. She remembered falling off the wall as she was trying to pluck a guava from a tree in her grandmother's neighbor's property. Not only did she break an arm, her grandmother had spanked her too for "behaving like a troublesome boy".
Nasreen scaled the wall and remembered to put her footwear on before jumping to the ground covered with shrubs, plants and creepers. Only two steps away, the gift lay amidst thorny shrubs. Nasreen was terrified of being bitten by some insect or creepy reptile. There could even be snakes hiding in the bush. Her heart pounded as she reached out for the big box. She grabbed it without moving more than a step away from where she landed. It was quite heavy. She hoisted it above her head and stood on her feet to balance it on the boundary wall. Then she quickly pulled herself up with much difficulty and climbed the wall without knocking the box over.
Nasreen adjusted her dupatta again and ignoring the pain she felt from being scratched by the thorny shrubs, grabbed the box and walked past the kids who were playing. They quietly watched her walk past them. She didnt turn back to look at which one of them ran after her and teasingly poked the box. She just wanted to reach home soon.
Nasreen almost ran back home and almost bumped into her mother who was carrying a vessel to the stove. She placed the heavy box on the only cot in the her one room chawl. Salma opened her mouth to yell at her daughter for nearly tripping her but the gleaming big box caught her eye. Nasreen was kneeling by the cot, still holding the box and looking at it with wonder. Salma slowly placed the water filled vessel on the ground and stood by her daughter. "What is this?", she asked Nasreen. "Did Shilpa madam give it to you?". Salma was aware that their Shilpa madam was the most generous of all the women she had worked for. It was due to her generosity alone that Salma could afford to send her daughter to study. If it weren't for madam's graciousness, Salma would have had to stop Nasreen from going to school so that her younger brother Shoaib could continue studying. All their relatives had told her that there was no use getting Nasreen educated. She would someday marry and leave her parents' house anyway. Even if her education helped her get a job, she would only support her family until she was married off. Initially Shilpa madam was unhappy about letting a 15 year old work for her as a domestic help but relented when Salma explained that she could no longer work at so many houses because of her aches and pains kept getting severe. Unless Nasreen contributed to the family income, they would not be able to manage the rising expenses on account of Salma's mother's failing health. Shilpa madam very graciously offered to pay Nasreen's school fees and even bought her a few new dresses when she was ready for high school.
Nasreen's grandma walked into the house to find her daughter-in-law and grand daughter looking at a big, shiny box that proudly sat on the worn out cot. She narrowed her eyes and squinted to take a better look at the strange object and placed a hand on Salma's shoulder, gesturing with the other hand to ask what it was.
Salma tapped Nasreen's shoulder to get her out of her trance. "Ammi, today Shilpa madam and Arun sir had a fight when I was working in their house and in anger didi threw this box out of the balcony. Arun sir had brought it for her when he came from his trip. It fell outside the compound and I went and picked it from there.." Nasreen rattled off the story in a breath.
"But why did you bring it here?", Salma asked without taking her eyes off the box. Grandma leaned in and strained to hear what Nasreen would say.
"I thought..didi didnt want it and it would just lie there or some kids would have taken it anyway so...", Nasreen nearly whispered realizing that she may have done the wrong thing.
"You should give it back. What will your father say? It's not ours. Its wrong to take it." Salma told Nasreen earnestly. It was true. Nasreen's father was an honest man. He would go to great lengths to do the right thing, even taking the trouble to trace passengers who rode in his taxi to return a wallet or luggage that they forgot in his taxi.
"But what is in it?!", grandma asked in her shaky voice with knitted eyebrows. She bent and tapped the box twice. She was only asking what the other two women were wondering too. Salma knew grandma would support Nasreen if she wanted to keep the gift. "Thats none of our business. Nasreen, keep it under the cot quickly before Shoaib sees it. Give it back to Shilpa madam tomorrow." ,she said sternly. "But Ammi, Shilpa didi told me not to coke to work till she calls me. It could be days...maybe she is going somewhere.." Nasreen weakly offered.
"Thats ok. Keep it safe till she calls you then."
Just then Shoaib ran into the room wailing with his right elbow held high. "Ammiiiii, those mean boys pushed me down and I got hurt!! See how badly hurt I am...look Ammi, I can see blood.." Tears were streaming down his face as he let Salma take a look at the scratch that seemed like a huge wound to him. "Its nothing. Stop wailing, I'll wipe it with antiseptic and it will be fine," Salma comforted her son.
Shoaib spotted the box before anyone could block his view and he instantly stopped wailing. As he jumped onto the cot to take a closer look, Nasreen defensively grabbed the heavy box and placed it on her lap.She shoved it under the cot and let her mother field his questions because he never listened to Nasreen anyway.
"What is it Ammi? Who brought it? Did Nasreen get it? Diwali was months ago, then who gave this gift? What is in it Ammi? Are we giving it to someone? Is it a gift for Tahera maami's wedding?.." Shoaib went on and on, not even noticing that his mother was cleaning his 'wound' with antiseptic.
"Nasreen aapa, do tell me..", he coaxed Nasreen with the sweetness he reserved for whenever he asked a favor of her. She looked at their mother. Salma showed no signs of the curiosity that had gripped the other three people in the room. Even Grandma seemed very interested to know what such a heavy box contained.
As Nasreen helped with preparing dinner, grandma lay down on a mat beside the cot. Shoaib sat restlessly on the cot stealthily looking at the box now and then. TV was not distracting enough. He desperately wanted to know what the box contained. His eyes met Nasreen's. Clearly she wanted the same thing but their mother would hear none of it.
They quietly had dinner and grandma went to sleep as soon as the dinner things were cleared away. After fighting sleep for as long as he could, Shoaib fell asleep in his usual place on the cot. Salma sat in a chair outside the house, waiting for her husband to return. Nasreen fished out a bottle of nailpolish that had almost dried up and sat beside her mother.Done applying nailpolish to her nails, she waited a while for it to dry and got up to go inside the house. Just then she spotted her father's taxi coming up the narrow alley.
Salma had started dozing off sitting in the chair. She woke up startled by Nasreen shouting," Abbu is home!!"
Salma stood up and watched as her husband parked the taxi and locked the car door. Nasreen waited patiently as he fished out a small candy bar from his pocket and gave it to her just as he had been doing since she was a toddler. She happily escorted him to the house and Abbu gave Salma a small bag of groceries. "Busy day today!", his voice boomed happily. A busy day was always a good thing for a taxi driver.
As they step into the house, Shoaib froze for a while as his mother ans sister gasped. He had torn most of the wrapping off the box. His mother ran to hit him as grandma sat up and grinned. Nasreen was surprised at how quietly he had managed to remove the wrapping paper but she was even more eager to finally be able to find out what the outside of the box said about its contents. Grandma sat up and chuckled. She had been dreaming of the wonderful things that may be in the box.
As soon as Salma yelled,"SHOAIB!!", he recovered from his daze and quickly ran into his confused father's arms. Nasreen concealed her glee and held an expression of concern as she inspected the box. Grandma sat closer to her and squinted as hard as she could, to see better. Salma yelled at Shoaib for messing up the gift wrap and swung to hit him just as he ducked behind Abbu. Abbu's confusion quickly turned to anger and he demanded to know what was going on. Salma lowered her voice and catching her breath, explained the whole situation to Abbu.
Nasreen couldnt find anything written on the plain cardboard box to reveal what it contained. She had managed to remove most of the cello tape that held the wrapping paper in place while her mother was busy explaining things to Abbu. Shoaib was now by her side, as was grandma. They were just waiting for Nasreen to rip the last bit of cellotape that kept the top of the box shut.
"NASREEN!!", Abbu bellowed.
Nasreen shuddered. Abbu was upset. She knew she was going to get lectured.
"Beta you know you shouldnt have brought this home." Abbu was clearly upset. Nasreen hated that tone he reserved for the rare instances when his kids disappointed him. Shoaib also feared Abbu's anger and so both of them sat looking down as Abbu spoke.
"Whatever it may be, you must return it whenever..." Before he could finish speaking, his mother in law had ripped off the last little inch of cello tape that stood between them and the secret that the box held.
Abbu and Ammi stared at grandma. The kids stared at grandma. Grandma stared at the box. And looked at her son. "Its out of the cover anyway. We may as well take a look at whats inside", she said in her shaky voice. Nasreen held back a smile.
Shoaib jumped at the box like a monkey and flipped it open. It had a little card inside that Shoaib was too impatient to read. He threw it aside and tried to pull out all the bubble wrap that secured the contents of the box. Nasreen picked up the card and read it. "To my dear wife, Happy Anniversary.." it read with two hearts drawn in red sketch pen.
Nasreen cautiously helped Shoaib remove the bubble wrap from the box. She expected her parents to stop them again so her hands moved very slowly as she took out a heavy object from the box and placed it on the floor. Ammi and Abbu came closer to the kids and in no time all five of them were sitting on the floor in a semi circle, waiting to see what the bubble wrap would reveal.
The third and last layer of bubble wrap came off and revealed a mini stitching machine. They looked at it from all possible angles. A stitching machine? So small? None of them had seen such a small stitching machine. "Is it a toy?" Grandma asked. "Its for me!!", Shoaib exclaimed and then suddenly frowned as he realized that a stitching machine is quite a useless gift for a seven year old boy.
Abbu turned the pages of the instruction manual that he found taped to the base of the machine. Ammi inspected every inch of the machine and wanted to believe that it was not just a toy.
Nasreen looked at the instruction manual and saw that a it contained a section in Hindi too, apart from other languages that seemed to be English but were really different languages. Nasreen read out the instructions in Hindi. They were amazed to know that the machine was not a toy. It was actually a fully functional sewing machine.
As Nasreen read out instructions, her mother looked for the corresponding parts on the machine and attached various bits to the main machine. "Here is the bobbin!..this is where it goes..this is how the needle is threaded....Oh here is a little pedal too!", her voice had an excitement that she did not attempt to hide and Abbu looked at her more than he looked at the machine coming together, bit by bit.
When the little sewing machine was all ready, everyone looked at Ammi. What next?
"Isnt there a power cord?" Ammi asked Nasreen. There was no power cord in the box. Another glance at the manual revealed that the machine was battery operated and if one chose to use it as an electrical appliance it was possible to do so by purchasing a power cord from an authorized dealer. Ammi seemed a little disappointed.
Ammi asked Abbu to take a look at the machine and find out where batteries needed to be inserted. Abbu looked at his wife for a while. How tactfully she was involving him in the whole mess he was against! He slowly lifted the machine in his hands and turned it every possible way. He opened the cover of the battery slot and asked Shoaib whether they had any batteries in the house. Shoaib quickly scrambled to get all three of his battery operated toys and fetched eight batteries of various sizes. Abbu took four of them and slid them into the battery slot. He closed the slot and placed the machine on the cot. It was ready to be used.
Ammi had eyes ONLY for the machine now.
Everyone watched as she rushed to the only cupboard in the house and pulled out an old blouse from a pile of clothes that fell to the ground. Noticing that she didnt stop to put the pile of clothes back into their place, Abbu knew there is no going back now. This machine was going to be used in their house, no matter what he thought of the idea.
Ammi held together a torn part of the blouse and carefully placed it under the needle. Nasreen pressed a little button, just as instructed in the manual. Grandma was struggling to stay awake. Ammi took a look at everyone in the room and pressed the pedal with her hand for just a second. The machine whirred happily as it came to life. Ammi and Nasreen started giggling in excitement. Ammi pressed the pedal again and guided the blouse as the needle neatly stitched both sides of the fabric together. It was a little challenging for her to use such a small sized machine. She had only ever used a proper, standard sized sewing machine in her teenage years. Someone handed Ammi a pair of scissors and she cut off the thread. As she held up the mended blouse to the light for all to see, it was as if she had some superpower.
They cleared the study table and placed the machine on it. Shoaib brought the stool inside the house so Ammi could sit at the table and use the pedal with her foot. The excitement lasted well over an hour as both children rummaged through piles of their clothings to find ones that needed mending. When Abbu sheepishly handed his wife a shirt that needed a little mending on the pockets, Ammi blushed shyly and fixed it for him in an instant. She was amazed at such a small sized sewing machine that seemed so delicate was actually so sturdy and efficient.
Grandma fell asleep eventually. The kids inspected all the clothes their mother had mended for them. Abbu looked worried and confided in his wife, "We cant keep it Salma. Its not ours. It would be wrong." He looked sad to have to say this to his wife. He couldnt remember the last time her face had lit up like it did tonight. He waited for her reply.
Salma ran her hand on the machine longingly and looked at him. "You are right Ji. Shilpa madam told Nasreen to wait. But whenever she will call you on your mobile phone and tell Nasreen to return to work, we will give this sewing machine back to her. Maybe when she is not so angry anymore she will want it back."
"Its ok Ji.", Salma smiled at her husband. He was a good man. She never wanted him to feel he couldnt give her something she wanted or liked.
Nasreen observed her parents' interaction and understood why they never fought. They didnt live a luxurious life but their home was a peacful, loving home because of the love and understanding in her parents' relationship. Nasreen swelled with pride at how honest her parents were. She sat beside her father and said with regret in her voice,'Abbu I am sorry. When I saw the box lying unwanted I didnt think of anything. I just brought it home. I will give it back when Didi calls me back to work." Abbu smiled and patted Nasreen's head lovingly. His smile put the joy back in her heart.
Grandma and Abbu were soon competing to snore louder than each other. Nasreen looked at the box placed on the table till she drifted off to sleep. So did Salma, from the other end of the room.
Last evening Shilpa madam seemed to get more and more upset with each phonecall that she received. Nasreen never eavesdropped and she wouldnt understand what her madamji was saying anyway because she didnt understand English too well. As she swept the floor and dusted the furniture she glanced at her Madam's angry face. Madamji kept muttering something under her breath and pacing the room. She instructed Nasreen not to chop vegetables for dinner and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Today Nasreen stepped lightly into the house and found Madamji in the kitchen, pouring tea for herself. "Tum piyogi?", she offered to pour some tea for Nasreen without turning to look at her. "Nahi didi", Nasreen answered and started the water to wash the dishes. As Shilpa turned to Nasreen and instructed her about the chores to be done, it was clear from her face that she had not slept well. Nasreen always wondered how madamji looked all fresh and dewy at any time of the day but today she looked so old. So tired. Nasreen concentrated on washing the dishes and continued to nod, acknowledging madamji's instructions.
Nasreen finished washing the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. She washed and chopped the vegetables madamji had left on the counter, covered them and picked up the broom to begin sweeping the house. As she walked into the living room she saw madamji sit on the sofa looking outside the window as she sipped her tea. Nasreen quickly dusted the furniture and began to sweep the floor when the door opened and Shilpa's husband Arun let himself in. He held his briefcase in one hand and a huge shopping bag in another. He seemed to be avoiding looking at both women but briefly looked towards Madamji as he slowly removed his shoes and kept his briefcase aside. Nasreen continued sweeping and darted a sideways glance at madamji, who was furiously staring at Arun.
Shilpa slammed the tea cup on the wooden teapoy and marched into the bedroom without saying a word. Arun briefly looked at Nasreen sheepishly and took out a gift wrapped box from inside the shopping bag. He adjusted the little red ribbon at the top of the box covered in silver wrapping paper, sighed heavily and dragged his feet into the bedroom. Nasreen could hear muffled sounds of madamji angrily saying something and occasional silence. She could hear the door slamming - probably the bathroom door or the door of the wardrobe. Some more angry voices and the occasional silence. Nasreen continued to sweep the floors and prayed that her favorite employees would stop fighting. She saw Shilpa and Arun as the ideal couple who rarely fought until a few months ago, after they had happily given Nasreen a bonus and a box of sweets to celebrate his promotion at work. He had started returning home late and madamji would often sit in the balcony waiting for him.
As Nasreen loaded the washing machine and measured out the detergent, the angry voices suddenly got louder. She was startled as the she heard the bedroom door open and Shilpa rushed out with the gift wrapped box in hand, yelling something in English. A visibly upset Arun followed her into the living room saying something to her in a pleading voice. Nasreen cautiously followed them only to see Shilpa madam throw the gift box out of the balcony attached to the living room. The moment she threw the gift out, Arun fell silent and continued to look outside. Shilpa madam glared at him for a few seconds and stormed past Nasreen. Just before slamming the bedroom door shut, she held it slightly open and yelled out in Hindi,"Nasreen, you go home now. No need to come tommorrow. Come back when I call you..if I call you.". The bedroom door slammed shut. Arun stood in the balcony with his back to Nasreen. She went back to the washing machine and set it to complete the wash. She closed the door softly and left the house hoping things would be better soon. She had a fleeting thought about how nice it would have been if she understood English better. She would understand what they were fighting about.
As she walked out of the building she thought about the shiny gift box that Madamji had flung out of the balcony. Nasreen had never received a gift like that..not even on her birthday. She always knew what her baba would get her - a new dress. Not packed in a box or giftwrapped or anything. Just folded and shoved into a plastic bag at the value store they always bought clothes from. She couldnt blame her dear father who was providing for his family as well as a taxi driver could.
On impulse Nasreen walked towards the boundary wall of the building to see if the gift was still lying in the adjoining compund. She didnt see it in the hands of any of the pesky kids playing in the compound so she hoped it was still there.
As she stood on her toes to look over the boundary wall, she saw the shiny box lying behind thorny shrubs. It was getting dark but the shiny box seemed to call out to Nasreen. She couldnt take her eyes off its brilliance. She needed to get it before the pesky kids start investigating what she was doing in this secluded area of the compound. Nasreen adjusted her dupatta and tied it tightly at her waist. She removed her footwear and stuck her foot partly into a little crevice in the brick wall of the compound. The last time she had ever scaled a wall, she was seven. She remembered falling off the wall as she was trying to pluck a guava from a tree in her grandmother's neighbor's property. Not only did she break an arm, her grandmother had spanked her too for "behaving like a troublesome boy".
Nasreen scaled the wall and remembered to put her footwear on before jumping to the ground covered with shrubs, plants and creepers. Only two steps away, the gift lay amidst thorny shrubs. Nasreen was terrified of being bitten by some insect or creepy reptile. There could even be snakes hiding in the bush. Her heart pounded as she reached out for the big box. She grabbed it without moving more than a step away from where she landed. It was quite heavy. She hoisted it above her head and stood on her feet to balance it on the boundary wall. Then she quickly pulled herself up with much difficulty and climbed the wall without knocking the box over.
Nasreen adjusted her dupatta again and ignoring the pain she felt from being scratched by the thorny shrubs, grabbed the box and walked past the kids who were playing. They quietly watched her walk past them. She didnt turn back to look at which one of them ran after her and teasingly poked the box. She just wanted to reach home soon.
Nasreen almost ran back home and almost bumped into her mother who was carrying a vessel to the stove. She placed the heavy box on the only cot in the her one room chawl. Salma opened her mouth to yell at her daughter for nearly tripping her but the gleaming big box caught her eye. Nasreen was kneeling by the cot, still holding the box and looking at it with wonder. Salma slowly placed the water filled vessel on the ground and stood by her daughter. "What is this?", she asked Nasreen. "Did Shilpa madam give it to you?". Salma was aware that their Shilpa madam was the most generous of all the women she had worked for. It was due to her generosity alone that Salma could afford to send her daughter to study. If it weren't for madam's graciousness, Salma would have had to stop Nasreen from going to school so that her younger brother Shoaib could continue studying. All their relatives had told her that there was no use getting Nasreen educated. She would someday marry and leave her parents' house anyway. Even if her education helped her get a job, she would only support her family until she was married off. Initially Shilpa madam was unhappy about letting a 15 year old work for her as a domestic help but relented when Salma explained that she could no longer work at so many houses because of her aches and pains kept getting severe. Unless Nasreen contributed to the family income, they would not be able to manage the rising expenses on account of Salma's mother's failing health. Shilpa madam very graciously offered to pay Nasreen's school fees and even bought her a few new dresses when she was ready for high school.
Nasreen's grandma walked into the house to find her daughter-in-law and grand daughter looking at a big, shiny box that proudly sat on the worn out cot. She narrowed her eyes and squinted to take a better look at the strange object and placed a hand on Salma's shoulder, gesturing with the other hand to ask what it was.
Salma tapped Nasreen's shoulder to get her out of her trance. "Ammi, today Shilpa madam and Arun sir had a fight when I was working in their house and in anger didi threw this box out of the balcony. Arun sir had brought it for her when he came from his trip. It fell outside the compound and I went and picked it from there.." Nasreen rattled off the story in a breath.
"But why did you bring it here?", Salma asked without taking her eyes off the box. Grandma leaned in and strained to hear what Nasreen would say.
"I thought..didi didnt want it and it would just lie there or some kids would have taken it anyway so...", Nasreen nearly whispered realizing that she may have done the wrong thing.
"You should give it back. What will your father say? It's not ours. Its wrong to take it." Salma told Nasreen earnestly. It was true. Nasreen's father was an honest man. He would go to great lengths to do the right thing, even taking the trouble to trace passengers who rode in his taxi to return a wallet or luggage that they forgot in his taxi.
"But what is in it?!", grandma asked in her shaky voice with knitted eyebrows. She bent and tapped the box twice. She was only asking what the other two women were wondering too. Salma knew grandma would support Nasreen if she wanted to keep the gift. "Thats none of our business. Nasreen, keep it under the cot quickly before Shoaib sees it. Give it back to Shilpa madam tomorrow." ,she said sternly. "But Ammi, Shilpa didi told me not to coke to work till she calls me. It could be days...maybe she is going somewhere.." Nasreen weakly offered.
"Thats ok. Keep it safe till she calls you then."
Just then Shoaib ran into the room wailing with his right elbow held high. "Ammiiiii, those mean boys pushed me down and I got hurt!! See how badly hurt I am...look Ammi, I can see blood.." Tears were streaming down his face as he let Salma take a look at the scratch that seemed like a huge wound to him. "Its nothing. Stop wailing, I'll wipe it with antiseptic and it will be fine," Salma comforted her son.
Shoaib spotted the box before anyone could block his view and he instantly stopped wailing. As he jumped onto the cot to take a closer look, Nasreen defensively grabbed the heavy box and placed it on her lap.She shoved it under the cot and let her mother field his questions because he never listened to Nasreen anyway.
"What is it Ammi? Who brought it? Did Nasreen get it? Diwali was months ago, then who gave this gift? What is in it Ammi? Are we giving it to someone? Is it a gift for Tahera maami's wedding?.." Shoaib went on and on, not even noticing that his mother was cleaning his 'wound' with antiseptic.
"Nasreen aapa, do tell me..", he coaxed Nasreen with the sweetness he reserved for whenever he asked a favor of her. She looked at their mother. Salma showed no signs of the curiosity that had gripped the other three people in the room. Even Grandma seemed very interested to know what such a heavy box contained.
As Nasreen helped with preparing dinner, grandma lay down on a mat beside the cot. Shoaib sat restlessly on the cot stealthily looking at the box now and then. TV was not distracting enough. He desperately wanted to know what the box contained. His eyes met Nasreen's. Clearly she wanted the same thing but their mother would hear none of it.
They quietly had dinner and grandma went to sleep as soon as the dinner things were cleared away. After fighting sleep for as long as he could, Shoaib fell asleep in his usual place on the cot. Salma sat in a chair outside the house, waiting for her husband to return. Nasreen fished out a bottle of nailpolish that had almost dried up and sat beside her mother.Done applying nailpolish to her nails, she waited a while for it to dry and got up to go inside the house. Just then she spotted her father's taxi coming up the narrow alley.
Salma had started dozing off sitting in the chair. She woke up startled by Nasreen shouting," Abbu is home!!"
Salma stood up and watched as her husband parked the taxi and locked the car door. Nasreen waited patiently as he fished out a small candy bar from his pocket and gave it to her just as he had been doing since she was a toddler. She happily escorted him to the house and Abbu gave Salma a small bag of groceries. "Busy day today!", his voice boomed happily. A busy day was always a good thing for a taxi driver.
As they step into the house, Shoaib froze for a while as his mother ans sister gasped. He had torn most of the wrapping off the box. His mother ran to hit him as grandma sat up and grinned. Nasreen was surprised at how quietly he had managed to remove the wrapping paper but she was even more eager to finally be able to find out what the outside of the box said about its contents. Grandma sat up and chuckled. She had been dreaming of the wonderful things that may be in the box.
As soon as Salma yelled,"SHOAIB!!", he recovered from his daze and quickly ran into his confused father's arms. Nasreen concealed her glee and held an expression of concern as she inspected the box. Grandma sat closer to her and squinted as hard as she could, to see better. Salma yelled at Shoaib for messing up the gift wrap and swung to hit him just as he ducked behind Abbu. Abbu's confusion quickly turned to anger and he demanded to know what was going on. Salma lowered her voice and catching her breath, explained the whole situation to Abbu.
Nasreen couldnt find anything written on the plain cardboard box to reveal what it contained. She had managed to remove most of the cello tape that held the wrapping paper in place while her mother was busy explaining things to Abbu. Shoaib was now by her side, as was grandma. They were just waiting for Nasreen to rip the last bit of cellotape that kept the top of the box shut.
"NASREEN!!", Abbu bellowed.
Nasreen shuddered. Abbu was upset. She knew she was going to get lectured.
"Beta you know you shouldnt have brought this home." Abbu was clearly upset. Nasreen hated that tone he reserved for the rare instances when his kids disappointed him. Shoaib also feared Abbu's anger and so both of them sat looking down as Abbu spoke.
"Whatever it may be, you must return it whenever..." Before he could finish speaking, his mother in law had ripped off the last little inch of cello tape that stood between them and the secret that the box held.
Abbu and Ammi stared at grandma. The kids stared at grandma. Grandma stared at the box. And looked at her son. "Its out of the cover anyway. We may as well take a look at whats inside", she said in her shaky voice. Nasreen held back a smile.
Shoaib jumped at the box like a monkey and flipped it open. It had a little card inside that Shoaib was too impatient to read. He threw it aside and tried to pull out all the bubble wrap that secured the contents of the box. Nasreen picked up the card and read it. "To my dear wife, Happy Anniversary.." it read with two hearts drawn in red sketch pen.
Nasreen cautiously helped Shoaib remove the bubble wrap from the box. She expected her parents to stop them again so her hands moved very slowly as she took out a heavy object from the box and placed it on the floor. Ammi and Abbu came closer to the kids and in no time all five of them were sitting on the floor in a semi circle, waiting to see what the bubble wrap would reveal.
The third and last layer of bubble wrap came off and revealed a mini stitching machine. They looked at it from all possible angles. A stitching machine? So small? None of them had seen such a small stitching machine. "Is it a toy?" Grandma asked. "Its for me!!", Shoaib exclaimed and then suddenly frowned as he realized that a stitching machine is quite a useless gift for a seven year old boy.
Abbu turned the pages of the instruction manual that he found taped to the base of the machine. Ammi inspected every inch of the machine and wanted to believe that it was not just a toy.
Nasreen looked at the instruction manual and saw that a it contained a section in Hindi too, apart from other languages that seemed to be English but were really different languages. Nasreen read out the instructions in Hindi. They were amazed to know that the machine was not a toy. It was actually a fully functional sewing machine.
As Nasreen read out instructions, her mother looked for the corresponding parts on the machine and attached various bits to the main machine. "Here is the bobbin!..this is where it goes..this is how the needle is threaded....Oh here is a little pedal too!", her voice had an excitement that she did not attempt to hide and Abbu looked at her more than he looked at the machine coming together, bit by bit.
When the little sewing machine was all ready, everyone looked at Ammi. What next?
"Isnt there a power cord?" Ammi asked Nasreen. There was no power cord in the box. Another glance at the manual revealed that the machine was battery operated and if one chose to use it as an electrical appliance it was possible to do so by purchasing a power cord from an authorized dealer. Ammi seemed a little disappointed.
Ammi asked Abbu to take a look at the machine and find out where batteries needed to be inserted. Abbu looked at his wife for a while. How tactfully she was involving him in the whole mess he was against! He slowly lifted the machine in his hands and turned it every possible way. He opened the cover of the battery slot and asked Shoaib whether they had any batteries in the house. Shoaib quickly scrambled to get all three of his battery operated toys and fetched eight batteries of various sizes. Abbu took four of them and slid them into the battery slot. He closed the slot and placed the machine on the cot. It was ready to be used.
Ammi had eyes ONLY for the machine now.
Everyone watched as she rushed to the only cupboard in the house and pulled out an old blouse from a pile of clothes that fell to the ground. Noticing that she didnt stop to put the pile of clothes back into their place, Abbu knew there is no going back now. This machine was going to be used in their house, no matter what he thought of the idea.
Ammi held together a torn part of the blouse and carefully placed it under the needle. Nasreen pressed a little button, just as instructed in the manual. Grandma was struggling to stay awake. Ammi took a look at everyone in the room and pressed the pedal with her hand for just a second. The machine whirred happily as it came to life. Ammi and Nasreen started giggling in excitement. Ammi pressed the pedal again and guided the blouse as the needle neatly stitched both sides of the fabric together. It was a little challenging for her to use such a small sized machine. She had only ever used a proper, standard sized sewing machine in her teenage years. Someone handed Ammi a pair of scissors and she cut off the thread. As she held up the mended blouse to the light for all to see, it was as if she had some superpower.
They cleared the study table and placed the machine on it. Shoaib brought the stool inside the house so Ammi could sit at the table and use the pedal with her foot. The excitement lasted well over an hour as both children rummaged through piles of their clothings to find ones that needed mending. When Abbu sheepishly handed his wife a shirt that needed a little mending on the pockets, Ammi blushed shyly and fixed it for him in an instant. She was amazed at such a small sized sewing machine that seemed so delicate was actually so sturdy and efficient.
Grandma fell asleep eventually. The kids inspected all the clothes their mother had mended for them. Abbu looked worried and confided in his wife, "We cant keep it Salma. Its not ours. It would be wrong." He looked sad to have to say this to his wife. He couldnt remember the last time her face had lit up like it did tonight. He waited for her reply.
Salma ran her hand on the machine longingly and looked at him. "You are right Ji. Shilpa madam told Nasreen to wait. But whenever she will call you on your mobile phone and tell Nasreen to return to work, we will give this sewing machine back to her. Maybe when she is not so angry anymore she will want it back."
"Its ok Ji.", Salma smiled at her husband. He was a good man. She never wanted him to feel he couldnt give her something she wanted or liked.
Nasreen observed her parents' interaction and understood why they never fought. They didnt live a luxurious life but their home was a peacful, loving home because of the love and understanding in her parents' relationship. Nasreen swelled with pride at how honest her parents were. She sat beside her father and said with regret in her voice,'Abbu I am sorry. When I saw the box lying unwanted I didnt think of anything. I just brought it home. I will give it back when Didi calls me back to work." Abbu smiled and patted Nasreen's head lovingly. His smile put the joy back in her heart.
Grandma and Abbu were soon competing to snore louder than each other. Nasreen looked at the box placed on the table till she drifted off to sleep. So did Salma, from the other end of the room.
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To be continued..
