What's her mistake ?-36

“That means you came to know where your son..  I mean your daughter.. I mean your child was?” asked Nammu Aunty. The narration got broken at that moment.

In fact Dammu was talking almost non-stop for the past 3 hours. She was narrating the incidents as if it did not involve her. It was a story of a third person we were made to feel.

But by Nammu Aunty’s question, the spell of storytelling was broken. It was good in a way. It was bad in another way.

It was good because it was already very late beyond bedtime. It was bad because we were yet to know what happened to Dammu’s baby? Did she ultimately get the baby? If so, where is it today? He/she could be about 24 as I had wondered earlier.

We broke the party and left to our rooms to catch some sleep.

The next was Sunday. It was a lazy day. By the time I got up, got ready and came out to the lawn Dammu and Nammu Aunty were sitting in the chairs sipping coffee with biscuits. There was a teepoy on which a coffee pot and a cup were kept and a few biscuits on another plate.

I was greeted by both. But I felt they were talking about something very seriously. What could be it?

I need not have worried. They have considered as a part of their group.

Nammu Aunty was having trouble with her eating. She was not able to speak very properly even now. She complained some pain at the back of her neck.

Dammu immediately wanted to take an appointment with the oncologist. Nammu Aunty protested.

“I have to go to Jaaji!”

Dammu looked at her seriously and said, “Nammu! You are supposed to reach on Monday evening. So, tomorrow morning we will go to the oncologist, get a clean chit from him and then you may leave for Jaaji”.

Nammu Aunty had to give her consent.

She did not like to eat the breakfast. She felt like vomiting after whatever small portion she ate.

Dammu had called the oncologist. She listened to what he had to say with a serious look on the face. Her face looked clouded. Since the generally cheery Dammu looked worried, I felt alarmed. I knew that the end is inevitable. But somehow my heart did not like to even think about it.

The morning became afternoon. After the daily chores, before lunch, we were summoned by Dammu for the next session of the story.

The dullness which was in Nammu Aunty’s all movements seem to vanish. She was like - I will be fine if you keep me engrossed in your life story!

Dammu was little perturbed. I was sure that it was not about her life story. It was to do with the telephonic conversation she had with the oncologist.

“What was the name of the village you were kept prisoner?” I asked the moment we sat together to have the story continued.

“Young man! I have more important things to tell” she said with mock severity and looked at Nammu Aunty who was very eager to know the next part.

“I thanked the village chief who had given space for my husband’s brother to stay.  He regretted that he could not take him to a hospital. I told that it is all right and everything is pre-written. Funnily it helped him overcome his guilt. I asked him the directions for the village where my baby could have been taken. He gave me the details. I thanked him again for this information this time and left in a bullock cart to reach the village”

She took a deep breath and told, “Two people from my husband’s first wife’s goons were following me without my knowledge. I was going towards the village with death hanging on my head!”