Merging Past—Chapter One–Part 1

Slamming the door, rapidly she walked away from her car. Gemma had to go to the neighbouring village once a week every Wednesday. She did not like to leave Disha alone for long. The call she had received from Tara had not been specific but had something to do with Disha. She was in a panic. Her main concern was her daughter. Lost in her thoughts, she was not even looking where she was going. She knew she had to reach her daughter as soon as she could. When she reached a corner, Disha came running to her calling out,”Momma.”

Her first thought was sheer relief. Disha was ok. She was clutching her trousers and seemed distressed though. “What happened, princess?” She asked.

“I fell down. My knees hurt.”

So much for her worries. It was only a scrapped knee. She bent down. Dutifully looked at the now band-aided knee. She kissed it better. Tara, Disha’s nanny came running. She said that she had called because Disha had been crying a lot for her mother after she fell down while playing with Nico, their neighbour’s child…

Disha although three was not a difficult child. As any child of her age, she was active, talked dime a dozen. She endeared herself to all, with her beguiling smile. For Gemma, since the day Disha had come into her life, nothing mattered any more. She seldom thought of her past now. What was there to dwell? Apart from Disha, she liked her new work very much. It brought her closer to her heritage, that heritage which she had not given much thought before she had landed up her with a few month old daughter. Slowly she had built her life in the community, which had taken while to accept her for what she was.

With fortitude, she had gone on looking after Disha and started to build a co-operative society, which involved the women of that particular area. Most were skilled in making handicrafts, knitting, weaving. At first, the women were reluctant to sell their wares, thinking those were not good enough. It had taken her months to persuade them and she had finally done it.

With all her savings, she had opened a little shop for them to display their wares. As was expected, it was a slow going initially. However once it picked up, there was no going back. Now there was a demand from other neighbourhood places. Even women from there too had joined the movement mobilising more people. The men folks too were happy about their women getting home money to keep the fires burning.

Now she had well and truly left her past behind. She had not in her whole life imagined she would be staying in this small place out of nowhere and making a life for herself and her daughter. Four years prior to this, if any one had said that, she would not have believed him at all.

As Gemma had cut short her Wednesday visit, she went and opened her shop although it was a weekly off for them. She brought Disha with here who liked to play there watching the people come by. She liked to draw too. Gemma had kept each scrap of he drawing. She sensed that Disha had it in her to be an artist if she was given the right encouragement. Sometimes Disha reminded her of him. Her daughter had that same penetrating way of looking at things. Brushing those thoughts aside, she went about her job of placing the best pieces of handicrafts for display. Although it was a quaint place, it attracted many tourists. Most were honeymooning couples who liked the quietness of it. It was a sleepy place with so many wildernesses. The air was always redolent with the smell of the local wild flowers. It was not placed in maps but still people got here from word of mouth. Her wares too attracted many who had visited the neighbouring villages.

Sometimes in the peak season, she even let out one of her three rooms. It fetched her some much-needed finances. With a little girl growing, she needed to do all she could.

Since morning, she had some kind of foreboding, a deep sense of restlessness. She could not place it. She had no reason to feel the way she was doing. The days of utter despair had been a long time ago. It felt like an eternity. With Disha in her life, those days were long gone. Disha gave her a purpose, a direction. She had named her daughter Disha because the literal meaning of Disha was purpose and direction. Before Disha, Gemma had not known where she was going.

The door opened interrupting her thoughts. Disha had been drawing singing to herself all the while. A young couple in their early twenties came into her shop to look around. She just let them be. She seldom persuaded anyone to buy anything specific. She let them choose what they wanted and if they asked for anything specific, she showed them those if available. A few times, she even got things made by order if there was enough time. The young couple looked at the hand knitted sweaters and cardigans. Those were very soft and looked very good. She always kept the best of things. Anything defective was rejected outright. The girl wanted to try a few cardigans, finally deciding on buying two. Her husband wanted a few pairs of hand knitted socks. Those always old like hot cakes. They both picked up other knick-knacks like woodcarvings, small statues etc. She packed those meticulously with brown paper. After paying her, both left after lingering there for a while asking her about the local foods and he places worth visiting.

This was only the beginning. There was steady stream of customers after that. It was a peak period for tourists. She was kept busy. She had no time to think about her foreboding thoughts. Disha too was happy to be with her mother. Playing in her tiny corner. Disha had the ability to switch into herself like Gemma. Sometimes she was amazed about many things about Disha. That child of hers surprised her at many steps.

When, she finally closed the shop, Gemma was bone tired. She had been at her feet all day. Disha too was sleepy. She carried her daughter who promptly fell asleep on her shoulder sucking her thumb. She only did that when she was very tired. Her love poured into her sleeping daughter softening her features. She walked the short way to her home. It was already very dark. Night came on early in those hilly regions even though it was just after 6 pm.

Tara opened the door even before she rang the bell. That native woman had been her lifeline from the day she arrived into this village with her daughter. One look at them both, Tara had proceeded to adopt the pair of them. Gemma did not even remember how she inveigled in her home. Initially Gemma had resisted but had finally given in when she realised that Tara was all alone and need to look after them just the way she needed someone to look after her daughter. Now she could not imagine here home without Tara. She was like the mother; Gemma had left behind long ago. She felt a pang thinking of her mother. The mother who had always cared for her, who had supported her. However, she had not even tried to tell her whereabouts to her mother when she arrived her. Too many reasons…

She put Disha in her little cot and went to freshen up. She changed into a very old faded caftan, which had held to many memories, but those too were faded over the times. Tara brought her tea and milk for Disha. She gently woke up her daughter, taking her to freshen up in the bathroom. Got her changed into her favourite cartoon print night suit. Clutching her tattered stuffed elephant, Disha drank her milk and again fell asleep against her.

Holding her closer, Gemma too closed her eyes. Suddenly her mother came behind her eyes making the tears fall fast and furious. She missed her so much. Maybe now was to time to contact her again. She knew her mother would be proud of Disha and love her for herself not because she was Gemma’s daughter. Lost in her thoughts, she clutched her daughter closer hurting her. When she whimpered she came back into her surrounds and found Tara watching her with concern. She smiled signalling she was ok. Tara worried about her. Although it was almost three years, she had not been able to unburden herself to Tara. That good woman had accepted her for what she was and had not questioned her. Sometimes Gemma felt guilty for not letting Tara anywhere near her thoughts. She kept that burden to herself. Her thoughts always took her to him in those lonely nights when all was quiet. At such times, she watched over Disha getting sustenance from her sleeping form.

She did not want Disha to grow up wanting, not in love, not in anything. She did want Disha to be aware of how she was dependent on her own child. She wanted Disha to be a healthy child in all aspects, in mind, body everything. She too knew that she could stay here forever for her daughter’s sake, hiding from her world. Disha deserved to know her family roots, her uncles, her cousins…Most important Disha had to have a good education. Gemma did not want to thin of those but one of these days in near future, she had to make hard decisions. How long can she prolong it? Tara’s future too had to be considered. Tara was getting on by age and Gemma could not leave that uncertain. Tara had been there when she had needed her.

It was getting cold. She stirred. Tara had got a rug and covered them both.

“Dinner?” She asked.

“Not today.”
“You have to eat and so does the girl. You cannot go on like this. You hardly ever eat anything. It is time to let the past go and live life fully. You are still young and the girl needs a life other than what this village offers. There is not even a proper school for her. You cannot teacher at home forever. I have known what has been in your mind for the past few days. You do not tell me anything but I can read your thoughts. You know, I love you like my own daughter and her as my grand daughter. Now come, eat.”

Before I could react, wiping her eyes, she left me to get our dinner.

Word count: 1801