A Diamond is Forever

Telugu: Swarna Sailaja Danta

Mrs. Swarna Sailaja Danta is a Science Graduate from Andhra University.  She has written about 40 stories so far some of which appeared in Andhra Bhoomi and Andhra Jyothi. She has 2 short story collections … Sasi Bala  and Vennele Needau… to her credit.
She Also received Ranjani Kundurthi  Award and 2020 NATA Sahityam Award for poetry among others.

“Granny! Are you crazy! Trudging for kilometers with the load on your head for days, you have saved this little sum. Do you have any idea what you are proposing me to do?”

I almost shouted at her, unable to contain my anger.

But she wore the same smile… the one that bewitched me when I met her for the first time.

*

“Plantains… bananas… coconuts…” some street vendor was shouting and simultaneously knocking on the gate with the lever.

I was busy and restless as so much of work was still pending, and my husband would be home for lunch in another half an hour. And the few minutes he would be here, he would be in a hurry and hurry up everything.

Of course, I wanted to buy bananas but there was no time for me to spare.

“Madam…!” she called once more.

Reluctantly, I put the stove on low flame and walked up to the gate.

She was an old lady. She might be in her sixties.

Keeping the wicker basket on the penultimate step near the gate, she sat down on the ultimate. She was holding the rolled-up towel on one hand and knocking at the gate with the other.

“Madam! Please buy the bananas from our own courtyard. You will definitely find them very tasty.”

With her hair disheveled, skin shriveled, and her handloom sari faded, she did not make any impression. But when she opened her toothless mouth and asked me to buy bananas with that bewitching smile, somehow, I could not deny. Suddenly, my great aunt, who died when I was ten, flashed in my memory.

“Instead of coming at this hot noon hour, you should have come early in the morning,” I expressed my concern taking from her hand a comb of bananas. I also took a coconut, planning for next day’s breakfast menu.

“Child! Take this comb of bananas as well and pay me just twenty rupees for all of them put together,” she said, thrusting the remaining hand of bananas into my hand.

“Okay. But from tomorrow onwards, try to come early. You are very old and cannot stand the hot sun.”

“I am not from this place, child. I come by train every morning. I usually get down at Marripalem and sell them door to door. Today, I took this street for a change. After I sell these four remaining coconuts, I will take the evening train,” she said rather casually.

‘My god! Coming by walk all the way from station? It is at least three kilometers from here. Besides, this is a colony at the foot of a steep hill. There is no proper road to this place. And if she has to walk on these uneven roads with that load overhead…’ I could not imagine further, and I was overwhelmed with pity for her. I gave her a glass of buttermilk. She took it hesitantly.

From that day onwards, she came to our house regularly. Saying that they were grown in her sister’s farm, she brought papaya one day. If she brought guava today, she brought gourd tomorrow, curry leaves another day. Thus, she used to bring something or the other each day.

One day I asked, “Granny! Why are you toil so hard every day? Don’t you any one to take care of you?”

“Child! My husband died within three years of my marriage. I have no children. I stay with my nephew. He and his wife are very good people. They can feed and take care of me with all love and affection. In fact, they quarrel with me every day when I come out this way. But What can I do? I don’t like to sit idle at home. So long as I can, I shall earn my living. And as for the rest, it is His will,” she lifted her hands up in the air indicating God, and guffawed.

“You could have done this in your village,” I said.

“Who will buy in village, my child! Everybody there is a farmer. They can grow whatever they want. Don’t worry about me, my child. I can stand this strain. And hot dinner would be ready when I reach home. Where is the cause for any worry?”

I was so delighted at the spirit of that granny, leading such hard life without complaint and unlike others, loving her way of life. What attracted me most was her self-confidence and the will to live on her own. And in these eight months we had become very close.

Occasionally, she used to bring flowers for Dhanurmasam, Palmyra jelly, and wild dates. This granny had become a welcome visitor every morning, refreshing my childhood memories of my grandparents’ house in the village.

One day there was a sudden downpour. The granny came to my house as usual. But it seemed there were no sales as her basket was almost full and heavy with guava and banana.

“Why? Are there no sales today?” I asked with a touch of pity and pain.

“What can anybody do, after all. It is such a rain that they could not come out. This is one odd day.” The smile on her face did not fade. There was no trace of regret for no sales.

“Okay, granny! I want to buy them all. What do you want me to pay for them?” I proposed.

“Stop kidding, child! You are, after all, four people at home. What will you do with them all?” she said.

“There is an orphanage nearby. We are contributing them some money every month. Occasionally, we offer them fruits also. They do not accept cooked food. Give me all these fruits. The children love it.” I said.

“You are such a nice lady! You are serving a great cause. I don’t want any money. Take them free,” she said.

“You are coming from such a far-off place. You must get a reasonable compensation for all the trouble you are undertaking,” I said and offered five hundred. I had to convince her a lot to accept that money.

For Pongal, I bought new clothes for all family members. I took a dark green Zari sari for the granny. With a jacket piece, turmeric and vermilion and a pan I presented her the saree. She looked bewildered and was very hesitant to take.

“I am sorry, child. I am not fit for them. You know, my husband is not alive,” she said.

“Flowers and vermilion are a woman’s birth right. I am giving you out of my pleasure. Please take this. Did you like this colour?” I asked.

“It is so lovely, my child. This is something I have seen for the first time in my life. And you gave it to me putting that vermillion on my face. I liked that even more. God bless you and your family a happy fulfilling life of hundred years.” She caressed my cheeks and giving me four coconuts as token of her appreciation, she left.

After that day, I did not see her for long. I should rather say she could not come because of the pandemic Corona. Government clamped lockdown as a measure to contain its spread. The entire world came to a standstill, people willy-nilly, were locked up at wherever they were.

Granny too did not turn up.

Every noon, my looks turned towards the street involuntarily.

Days were dragging heavily and silently.

*

Suddenly, the granny appeared at my door one day.

There was no basket over her head. Instead, she carried a small cloth pouch in her hand.

“My sister’s son is an auto driver. Somebody from our village was not doing well and when they brought her to the hospital in his auto, I came along with him. He will be here in another half an hour and I should go with him.

“Child! This is all the money I could save so far. Kindly count it and tell me.”

She emptied her bag on the floor.

I counted. It was seventeen thousand three hundred and fifty and some paise.

“Child! Please take this money and give it to those destitute children of the orphanage you said the other day. Nobody is allowed to come onto the streets. Poor children. God knows, how they must be starving…” she said with a lot of concern.

I was really shocked. As government resorted to pay cut, I too rationed what I was contributing them earlier.

“Granny! Are you crazy! Trudging for kilometers with the load on your head for days, you have saved this little sum. Do you have any idea what you are proposing me to do? You do not have anything for yourself… if there is an emergency tomorrow…”  I was so emotional that my words were incoherent and coming out in staccato phrases.

Still, there was the same enticing laugh on that granny’s face.

“Don’t worry about me. I am now working in two houses there in my village. That is enough for my living. Please give this money to them. I have enough strength and I can earn the money. If those children could get food for at least four days with this modest sum, that gives me great satisfaction. Child, I take leave. If things improve, I will come back with my goods as usual.”

And she left in the auto bidding me goodbye.

Empathy and self-confidence… were her great strengths. It is why, her smile was so fresh and pure always.

Drying my tears, I closed the gate.

[Inspired and touched by a real life incident when some people came to help a poor beggar during lockdown. Instead. she had offered them all that she had with her and asked them to help people like her.]

*