What's her mistake ? - 47

I could not help feeling very angry with his words. But we were helpless. Even the talkative Dammu had kept her mouth shut and was thinking deeply.

We cleared the room and came back to Dammu’s house.

We felt as if some part of our body has suddenly cutoff. It was very difficult even to spend two days in Dammu’s house. I tried to read. I was not able to concentrate. I tried to tend the rose plants. I must have got pierced all my fingers. I could not do cleaning.

I went and stood in front of Dammu who had kept a book in her left hand and was looking beyond. I knew that she was also going through the same condition.

“Tell me young man! You are finding it difficult to stay. Correct? Ok, here it is! We will do like this. You stay here till the end of this week. In the meanwhile I shall help you to get a good and suitable job” I smiled thankfully. “Oh yes, I remember my promise. When Nammu is not here, there is no point in you staying here and wasting your quality time.  I have spoken to the owner of the opposite house. He has a room in the first floor and would be happy to give it to you for rent. You have done a good job of taking care of Nammu and me. So now it is time for you to take care of yourself. Oh, yes, I am fine. Remember what the oncologist said? Some are lucky to survive cancer and I am one of them” said Dammu with a sad smile.

Within a week I joined a job, shifted to the opposite house. I was not very comfortable to eat at Dammu’s. She understood my plight and let me live the way I wanted. But I still carried out some of the chores of her house to keep myself busy during my time off.

The oncologist regretted the fact that the discharge of Nammu Aunty took place during his absence. When he tried to contact her sons, they were very rude with him and told him that he should not bother them again asking money etc. as they are having their mother with them. Nammu Aunty’s daughter had recovered from her accident. But still the money position was bad taking into consideration the treatment to her injuries.

When I met Dammu on Sunday, I narrated the whole thing. She said, “Young man! I am getting a doubt because whenever the oncologist called each of the sons, they have individually declared that their mother was with him. How is it possible? If she was with the third one, the other two could tell that he is with the third one. Right? But why such a lofty reply?”

I called the third son from her house. He came on line and blasted me for making enquiries. “Don’t you have your own business? Why you want to poke your nose in our affairs?  Amma is with us and she is happy.”

I suddenly asked him, “Why are you saying ‘us’? Is she with you? If so, please put her on the line. I want to speak with her”

He did not reply. He put the phone down. I looked at Dammu sadly.

It was almost 2 months since Nammu Aunty was taken away from the hospital. We had slowly fitted into our new routine.

That evening I went to Dammu’s house since she called me. She said, “I had got some samosas prepared. I thought I should give them to you. Please have it” and handed over a plate full of samosas.

“Young man! It is two months since Nammu is away. Any news from your side?” she asked.

Tucking in the tasty samosa I regretfully said, “No Dammu!”

As if to make my words a lie, the telephone rang.

I picked up the receiver. Someone said, “Is there a Dammu available in this number? I have a call”

I gave it to Dammu. She said “Hello!”

Her expression suddenly changed from surprise to happiness and she shrieked, “Nammu!”