Outhouse
Anusha M
This morning was unusual – I was getting into a red bus with Appa and Amma instead of the yellow school bus. And it was too early, even the milkman had not made his delivery yet. I was too groggy to ask where we were headed and fell asleep on the bus. When I woke up, we were walking towards the wide gates of Ajji’s house. They were both open, and there was a lot of activity in the yard – strangers were walking in and out of the house. Raghu maama was standing near the door of the main house, but he did not greet us. Just a nod, and Appa walked towards him. It had been raining the previous night, and the champaka tree near the gate was full of flowers. The garden was squelchy, and when Amma tried to put me down on the ground, I resisted and refused to walk. Amma was annoyed, but she pulled her sari up to her knee with one hand and balanced me on her waist with the other. This was not the most comfortable of positions, but Amma dismissed my objections saying that she was in a hurry as we headed towards the Outhouse. She knocked gently and Nidhi opened the door that creaked on the hinges. He didn’t even bother smiling to greet me. Amma led me inside and kneeled to address me, her face serious.
‘Mira, stay with your cousins. Don’t come out until Raghu maama comes to fetch you.’
I nodded obediently and left my worn out hawai chappals near the threshold. Nidhi carried me in, and I could see that the entire clan had gathered in the hall. I ran and hugged Smita akka, who was playing with her sister Sunita in the corner.
‘Akka, Akka, I’m so happy we are meeting before the Dussehra holidays.’
‘Yes, yes, come on now. Do you want to join us or not?’
They were in the middle of a game and pointed at the kavade grid drawn on the floor with chalk. It was a game I didn’t completely understand yet, but I wanted to learn everything that my cousins knew.
‘You finish this game; I will watch and join for the next one.’
Amma had wound my juttu very tightly, so I fiddled with my hair strands until they loosened. Kittu and Rani akka used to live here with their parents Raghu maama and Rekha maami, but after Ajja became a star in the sky they moved into the main house to keep Ajji company. The Outhouse had a small hall once you entered, with a tiny kitchen space at the end of the hall and a toilet. The hall had many windows, but they were mostly shut to keep the dust out. Today, only one window was open, and there was hardly any sunlight in the room. The room was lit by a lone incandescent bulb, not a tube light like the main house, and every time we tried to reach the switch our palms would brush against the wall sprinkling the floor with a bit of crumbling paint. The Outhouse was used occasionally – when there were too many of us to sleep in the main house, but it wasn’t time to sleep yet.
‘Why are we all here, Akka? Did the white crow bite us?’
Sunita’s stare locked onto Smita.
‘Don’t be silly! How can the white crow bite all of us at once? Even the boys? Huh! No such luck today. All the elders are discussing something important and want us out of the way’, dismissed Smita.
Sunita beckoned me closer, ‘Mira, do you want to start a new game? I’m losing this one anyway.’ Smita twisted her lips from side to side, mocking her sister. ‘Go find something to act as your pawns. Four small things of the same kind, ok? Quick!’
I went straight for the shelf looking for Rekha Maami’s sewing kit. It was a treasure box of buttons, of all sizes and colours. It was an old biscuit tin, one that Charley uncle from down the street had bought from Dubai when Rani akka was a small girl. Maami often joked that this expensive box would be part of Rani’s dowry. I turned it around to see that Rani akka had claimed it, by etching her name under the tin, ರಾಣಿ, with a ball point pen. She was old enough to use a ballpoint pen, because she was already in college, the oldest of us. Would she soon be married? Who would teach me the disco steps to ‘Om Shanti Om’ if that happens? Oh, I would miss her dearly if she got married. Who would we take our secrets to? Who would shield us from our parents when we broke a vase?
I searched through the box and found four glittery blue buttons, and blue is my favorite color. Clutching them, I passed by the only cot in the Outhouse. It was used by the women when they were sent away to rest. Rekha Maami ferried food and water to them thrice a day when that happened, and they could come back after they had cleaned themselves. If the aunties were sent away, it was fine with me. But I hated when Netra or Rani had to sit in the Outhouse instead of playing with us. Today, curiously, it was Kittu who I found asleep, thin elbows shielding his face. I wanted to piggyback with him and find Rani akka, but he was in a deep slumber. I walked back to the kavade corner and handed over the blue buttons for a new game.
‘Why is Kittu napping during the day?’
Smita and Sunita had a language of their own, one spoken without words. Large almond eyes that were identical, always lined with kohl and a streak of suspense. A secret dialogue was exchanged.
‘Kittu was up all night, that’s why he needs to rest.’
‘Why didn’t he sleep?’
‘You’re only five years old, yet you ask too many questions, Miru. Come now, let’s start this game before they call us to the main house.’
‘I’ll win this time too!’ Smita waved a finger to taunt her sister.
Smita and Sunita were playing this round of kavade as if there was a prize for the winner. I was the third wheel, a silent player, not in the game to win, just for fun. But I loved being around my older cousin sisters. ‘Why can’t I have an Akka of my own?’ I had asked Appa. He said that it’s too late for me to have an Akka, but I could be an Akka if I wanted. I didn’t know if I was old enough to be an Akka, like Rani or Sunita. I just wanted to play with an Akka of my own all the time rather than waiting until my cousins gathered in Ajji’s house. Seeing that Smita and Sunita were deeply engrossed in the game, I tiptoed toward the window.
With the help of a stool, I peered at the garden from the Outhouse window. Ajji’s garden was lined with rows of plantains and cashew shrubs. The lush green vegetation provided ample cover for us to play hide and seek whenever we gathered. Rani was an expert at climbing the champa tree and plucking the fragrant flowers, while we stood underneath spreading an old bed sheet to catch the delicate blossoms lest they get soiled with our feet. The women of the house loved these flowers so much; but Ajji had recently stopped wearing them. The plantain trees with their broad leaves looked welcoming, ready to be plucked and have a feast served on them. I sighed and wiped the cheap white paint from my elbows onto my frock, knowing Amma would scold me. I wanted to play outside.
‘Smita Akka, Smita Akka – come let’s go out?’
‘Not now, Miru. We have been told strictly to stay here. Today, we must do what they say.’
My enthusiasm was dampened, and I frowned and made a fake crying sound.
‘Don’t be so sad, Miru. Why don’t you go and play elastic with Sudhir and Nidhi?’
I rushed to the other end of the room where Sudhir and Nidhi were playing the elastic game with Netra akka. As I approached them, I couldn’t help but notice how gracefully my older cousin’s hair was bouncing while they hopped about. I was envious that Netra akka’s mom let her grow her hair long. Amma always dragged me to the beauty parlor, despite my protesting and tears. Once I’m old enough to plait my own hair to school, I will not let Amma have her way. Sudhir’s hair had been recently trimmed and sweat beads were glistening on his scalp while he jumped higher.
‘Anna, anna, please. Let me have one go at the elastic.’
‘Ok Miru. Eh Nidhi, lower the elastic for our little one. Let her have a chance to play.’
Nidhi pinched my cheeks affectionately before it was my turn. I soon levelled up while repeating the challenges, and the height of the elastic was raised twice. Meanwhile, Netra akka went to the cot that Kittu was lying in and checked if he was running a fever. Muttering in his sleep, Kittu’s hair was dishevelled. She covered him with a blanket and pushed his hair back so it wouldn’t disturb him.
‘Why is Kittu sleeping?’
‘He saw a ghost it seems!’ Sudhir held out his open palm and mocked him. He turned around to see if Nidhi would laugh with him but was bluntly reprimanded with a slap on his upper arm.
‘What? That is how he appeared when I came in this morning.’
Nidhi pointed his forefinger threateningly at Sudhir, ‘Don’t bring this topic up now.’
While they squabbled, I saw Rani akka’s old trunk lying in the corner. Where was the pink dupatta with shiny stars on it, the one I liked to wear as a sari and twirl in? Ah, Found it! Rani had wrapped the dupatta around a bunch of letters and a cassette of ‘Ek Duuje ke liye’. Now, where was she? No one else was good at draping it. I looked around and counted my cousins, six in the room and seven including me.
‘Where is Rani akka?’
Everyone turned around, and their eyes were on the pink dupatta. My words seemed to have crashed into the Outhouse, shattering my cousins into a sudden silence. But no one gave me answers.
‘When will Rani akka join us?’
Netra began sobbing, and Nidhi rushed to her. Before I could figure out why, the door suddenly opened. Raghu maama looked tired, the dark circles prominent, his grey hairs more pronounced than ever. He didn’t speak, just waved his arm to indicate that we were to step outside.
Nidhi and Netra went first. Nidhi was wearing his school sweater over his night suit. Netra wore a faded brown synthetic frock made from her mom’s sari with tiny white daisies on them.
Smita and Sunita went next, holding hands. They looked so alike walking next to each other. Both wore long worn-out skirts of the same fabric, but Smita wore a yellow blouse while Sunita’s was a distemper green. Sudhir darted outside wearing one of Kittu’s shorts, while Raghu maama gently woke Kittu, who immediately dissolved into a crying heap. With a sad nod, Raghu maama led Kittu outside and there was no one left behind to hold my hand. The sun had stopped hiding behind the clouds and Ajji’s house was bathed in fresh bright sunshine when I walked outside.
The porch was full of people, and there was a huge commotion on the road in front. The steps leading into the house had benches on both sides, and Ajji was seated on one of them; hands covering her head, the end of her sari shielding her face. Rekha maami was bawling, the cries escaping in between gasps of breath. Kittu and Netra stood beside her, wailing endlessly. Smita and Sunita held on to each other tightly. Raghu maama scooped me from the lawn and handed me over to Appa. Raised above ground, I could see a black van that was decked with flowers. This wasn’t a wedding – no one was dressed for a happy occasion. People were throwing garlands at the van, and someone was shouting at the gate. Raghu maama slowly walked outside, but no one else ventured towards the van. Amma was crying, and I didn’t know why.
‘Why is Amma crying?’
‘Be quiet, Mira.’ Appa tried to turn me towards his chest, as if he didn’t want me to see whatever was happening now. Appa did this in movie theatres too, when a villain would be beating the hero, but today he was squeezing me too tightly and I wasn’t comfortable. I needed the reassurance of my mother’s arms, wanting her to hold me.
‘Amma, Amma…’
Appa handed me over to Amma. There was a sudden commotion at the gate and a lot of men started walking ahead of the black van. Appa joined them too. Rekha maami began to beat her chest. Someone pointed to the van; it had started moving.
Amma cried out, ‘Rani! Rani!’
Did Amma think Rani was in the black van? Was everyone worried that Rani akka was going away? She was just going away to the college hostel; Rani had assured me. Why was everyone being so silly?
‘Amma, don’t worry. I will call Rani akka and she will return. Wait now. RANI AKKA, RANI AKKA! COME BACK SOON, OK?’
Tears flowed silently down Amma’s cheeks, and I wiped them with my palms. I hugged her and planted a kiss on her wet face, wanting to fix whatever was making Amma cry – ‘Don’t worry, Amma. I have told Rani akka; she will certainly come home.’ In response, she kissed my forehead but continued to cry.
The black van swiftly drove away from our street, and all the adults were left standing at the porch. It started drizzling, and Ajji was the first one to move inside the house. Whatever spell had been cast on them seemed to have faded away. I wanted to go into the garden and play, hoping Rani akka would join me too.
*
Response to the workshop:
The Out of Print short story workshop was an immersive and indelible experience. I went in like a sponge and absorbed every single word, debating the motivation while learning to observe my stories from different viewpoints. The nuanced structure of the workshops is a great platform to examine your perspective as a storyteller, and one would benefit immensely from workshopping your stories with other writers.
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