The Purse
Pallavi Chelluri
Lata took out the steel tumbler kept separately from the other utensils and served tea to Reena. ‘Here, have hot hot tea, it’s made from full fat cow milk.’ she said. Reena, seated on the floor on her haunches, reached up and held the tumbler along the edges, careful not to touch Lata’s fingers. She took a sip and smiled back at Lata. ‘It’s very good Didi.’ Lata poured the tea in a Bone China cup for herself, ivory with small blue flowers along the rim. She held it by the handle and took a sip. ‘Yes, it’s strong, just the way I like it.’
Sensing Lata’s good mood, Reena continued the conversation, ‘Didi, remember I was telling you about my son’s interview last week? He cleared it and got admission in the private school. They said he scored the highest marks in their test.’ said Reena, pride lighting up face.
‘Wonderful, that boy of yours is very smart. I am sure he will go far in life.’ said Lata
‘Didi, the fee of the new school is much higher. They have given a scholarship for half but I still need to pay the rest. Can you increase my salary?’ Reena looked up at Lata, but Lata wasn’t smiling.
‘You know I would never ask for myself. But I need this for my son.’ continued Reena, softening the blow.
‘The problem is that the rates for maids in the society are fixed. Even if I give one rupee extra, they create a huge ruckus, blaming me for spoiling the maids.’ said Lata, getting up, heading to the kitchen.
‘You know what happened when I tried it with the cook last year. But let me talk to Bhaiya, maybe we can help you out in some other way,’ said Lata, turning to look back at Reena and smiling.
‘Please Didi, whatever you can do will be helpful.’ said Reena and got up to wash her tumbler and Lata’s cup. She picked up her dupatta and started to leave.
*
Lata and Mukund had bought this flat when the children were small. The house had seen Lata’s children graduate, move out, and marry, it had seen her tend to Mukund’s parents, as they spent their last years with their son. Now the house saw Lata fuss around the empty space, searching for things to do. She would follow Reena from room to room, fluffing the pillows, rearranging the books, one eye always on the hands dusting the shelves or sweeping the floor.
‘Didi, I am leaving!’ Reena called out from the door.
‘Wait, wait’ Lata’s faint voice came from the other end of the house. She came out carrying an old purse, made of dark brown leather with a zip on top and two short handles.
‘I was cleaning the cupboard yesterday and found my old purse. I thought to myself this would be perfect for Reena. Look it has two compartments inside and one hidden compartment to keep money as well. You keep forgetting your phone when you carry it in your hand. Now you can keep everything in this.’ Lata held out the purse to Reena who composed her face into a practiced smile.
‘Thank you Didi, this is very nice.’ said Reena. ‘Ok I’ll go now; I am getting late for the next house.’
‘Just one minute.’ said Lata and took the purse back. She opened up the zippers and swiped her hand through the pockets. She turned it upside down and shook it two-three times. Stale air flew out.
‘Ok, here.’
Reena took it back and left, closing the door behind her.
By the time Reena got back in the afternoon after cleaning four other houses, her son was already home from school. She opened up the plastic box of leftovers Lata had given her and started heating it up. Dal fry and brinjal curry. Lata always gave fresh food, cooked the same day, and her cook was generous with ghee and spices.
‘Maa tomorrow is the last day to submit the fee for my new school. Will we go in the morning together?’ he asked. He was excited about starting 6th standard in the new school. The classroom had wooden desks and chairs. The walls were adorned with pictures of animals playing in the forest.
‘Yes beta. We will buy your new uniform also. Didi was so happy to hear about your admission. She has given me a raise!’ she said, planning to go to the money lender in the evening. Things had never gotten to this point before, but it didn’t help that she had to take four leaves last month, which had come out of her salary. She had gotten dysentery and she couldn’t keep running down to the workers’ toilet at the back of the apartment complex every time she had to go. It would be different if she was a cook. They earned more, worked fewer hours. But once a cleaner, always a cleaner. She wondered what Ritesh’s father was doing nowadays, he probably had a new family in the village by now.
She cleaned their plates and started tidying the small room. She spotted the purse. ‘I wish she had given me money for Ritesh’s fees instead of this old purse.’ she said, deciding to stow it away under the cot. She started to put it in the trunk, but instead of lying flat, it bulged in the middle. She pressed harder, to try to close the trunk over it, but the bulge was still there. She opened the zip to check, put her hand in and pulled out a bundle of notes.
She looked over at the door which was open. Ritesh was out playing somewhere. She locked it, came back and counted the money. It was six thousand five hundred rupees; the exact amount needed for Ritesh’s fee. She put down the money, got up and drank a glass of water. She looked back; the money was still there. Did Lata slip the money into the purse? Reena shook her head. She had seen Lata check every crevice; it had been as empty as a well in summer. She thought of everyone she knew, all the other ladies she worked for. But why would anyone put money without telling her. After eliminating every other possibility only one option remained. The purse had heard her wish and granted it.
She held it open and said out loud. ‘My saree is worn down and there are tears in it. I wish I could buy a new cotton saree.’ When she opened the purse, it had exactly five hundred and fifty rupees, enough for a new cotton saree from the shop in the market. Reena squealed in excitement, tucked the money into her blouse. ‘My chappals are old, the strap keeps coming out. I wish I could buy a new pair.’ And sure enough there were two hundred rupees in there, enough for a pair of blue and white Bata chappals she wore. Reena settled against the wall; it was going to be a long night but a good night.
Over the next few days, Reena asked for money to buy things for Ritesh, a new school bag, textbooks, new uniform, and new shoes. She felt lucky that the clerk at the school admission had put down ‘Ritesh’ as the first name and just ‘Kumar’ as the last name from the old school records, omitting the surname altogether. There were many Kumar boys and girls, now Ritesh could be one of them.
She bought a tea set for herself. Every evening, she would make tea, pour it into an ivory cup with blue flowers along the edge, hold it by the narrow handle and drink it in loud sips. She bought a mirror so Ritesh could comb his hair and check his uniform before leaving for school. Putting up the mirror, she looked at her reflection. When she cleaned the mirrors in others’ homes, she concentrated on making sure she didn’t leave any streaks. Today she stared and saw the grey starting to show at the roots of her hair. Her tightly wound plait coming loose after a day of work, hair around her forehead standing up, stiff with her salty sweat. She was at least twenty years younger than Lata, but looked the same age. She whispered without thinking ‘I wish I could also go to a beauty parlour like Didi.’ She realized what she had done and picked up the purse to check. There in the purse were eight hundred rupees. Her eyes widened. Is that what they pay for a haircut she wondered. She started to put back the money, thinking she would use it to buy Ritesh some books. But she stopped. The purse was wise; it always gave her the exact money down to the rupee for everything she asked. The purse had granted her wish, who was she to ignore its wisdom. She put on a new saree and wore a pair of new sandals. She combed her hair, pulled up the purse to her shoulder, and left for the parlour in the big market where the ladies went for shopping.
She went in without hesitating and walked up to the reception desk. She said ‘Hair colour and cut’ as she had overheard Lata say on the phone once and took out the cash before they could refuse. The young receptionist at the counter raised her eyebrows but said ‘Sure Ma’am, this way.’
Reena was admiring her hair, roots dyed black, fresh wash and cut making it bounce when she saw Lata in the mirror. On Lata’s face she saw the confusion turn to anger. She walked up to Reena, held her by the arm and took her out of the parlour.
‘What are you doing here? Where did you get the money for a haircut?’ asked Lata as Reena struggled against her grip and freed her arm.
‘Did you steal from somewhere?’ Lata looked at the purse hanging on Reena’s shoulder.
‘Was there money in the purse I gave you?’ she asked.
‘I am not a thief; I did not steal anything.’ said Reena rubbing the angry red mark forming on her arm.
‘You know that purse was empty, you checked it a hundred times before giving it to me. As if you would give me even 1 rupee more than my salary,’ said Reena.
Lata was taken aback by Reena’s response, never having heard her talk back before.
‘That’s no way to talk to me! Tell me the truth, how did you get money for the parlour?’
‘I saved some money from my salary.’ Reena mumbled.
‘You are wasting your savings on a haircut. You told me you needed money for Ritesh’s school, was that a lie to get more money?’
‘No, I wasn’t lying, I did need money for Ritesh’s fee.’
‘So what, you managed to fool some other old woman with your sad story and here you are throwing away the money at a parlour?’ asked Lata.
Reena stayed silent, she didn’t want to say something which could get her into trouble.
‘Tell me the truth or I am going to take you to the police.’ said Lata moving to grab her arm again.
Reena clutched the purse, and started to move back from Lata.
‘I have trusted you to work in my home for years. I gave you the same food we eat and the same clothes we wear. And now you are acting smart with me?’ said Lata. She came closer and smiled, her lips went up but her eyes stayed fixed. ‘I am telling you for your own good. Don’t make trouble for yourself. Stick to what you know best, washing soiled utensils and mopping dirty floors.’
Reena hurried home, half running, half walking. She kept looking back, feeling she was being followed. She started packing up their things the moment she reached. Ritesh would be home soon. He had settled in so well at the new school. Bu there would be other schools. She didn’t know what Lata would do, but she didn’t want to risk finding out. They would take a bus to another city. She would find another house, another school, another apartment complex. She paused. What if she asked the purse for a large amount of money? So large that she could go back to the village, buy a small house with some land. Send Ritesh to the best school, then the best college…. She laughed and hit her hand to her forehead. Look at her wasting time in an emergency. The purse had never failed her, but she wasn’t one to tempt fate. She remembered her mother saying, ‘Stretch your legs only as far as your bedsheet goes.’
They got on to the bus, and she took out the exact change for the ticket from her purse. Ritesh was refusing to speak to her, not letting her hold his hand. She hoped he would forget all this once he got busy with his new school.
Except for the name of the city, everything else went back to as it was. Ritesh got admitted to an English medium private school. She found them a house nearby. She was cooking food at four houses in an apartment complex with so many towers that she got lost going from one house to another. It was easy to feel safe in their vastness.
That evening, Reena headed back to the house, holding one plastic bag with fruits and vegetables, one with eggs. She was thinking of egg fry when she turned the corner to her lane and looked up to see two policemen talking to the woman next door. One was older, and bigger, he was asking the questions. The other, smaller and shorter, was writing in a notebook. Her heart started beating hard against her chest. She saw the woman look at her and hold her gaze. The policeman noticed and turned to look.
‘Ay!’ he yelled. ‘Stop there, don’t move.’ He started walking towards her, his junior behind him. Reena dropped the bags, a couple of tomatoes rolled down the dirt path towards the policemen. Yellow yolks started oozing out of the cracks in the shells. Reena pulled down the purse from her shoulder, opened it and said, ‘I wish to make this problem go away.’
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