Chapter 4
The Biased Gardener

More than a week had passed since Amit’s arrival. As a custom, just before evening, Amit went to Ashraf Chacha’s shop and quietly sat on the chair besides him. After the customers were gone, Ashraf Chacha said in a deep, troubled voice,
“See what has happened to our poor world. Where ever you see there is fighting and blood. When will people learn to live in peace?” (he turned towards Amit) “OK, now look at us. You are a Hindu and I am a Muslim—but do we ever fight?”
“No, Chacha, we never fight. Because we are not bad people.”
“Shabbash! Give me a handshake on this. Good boy. I don’t understand why all Hindu-Muslims can’t live like us and love each other. Beta, always remember one things: first you hate a person, and then you later regret it, and then you will long for the time to come back so that you can say Sorry and love that person, and then you realise it is not possible. And life is too short for such a long process. Love everybody—I mean everybody. No matter how bad that person is. It’s short, simple and easy. Am I right?”
“Yes, Chacha.”
“Good boy! Now, eat your biscuits.”
Having finished them, Amit showed Chacha his new Spiderman comic. Chacha flipped through the pages, and patted Amit’s back and said, “Congrats! But don’t forget your studies because of it. OK?”
“OK Chacha.”
Amit finished reading the left over ten pages and said,
“Chacha, now I will go.”
“OK beta. And remember what I said: love everybody.”
“Yes Chacha, I definitely will.”
Amit was eager to see Dustoor Uncle’s indignation on the recent blasts. But he had to return home, disappointed, as his shop was closed. He saw Dai Ma watering plants in the garden.
“Dai Ma, can I help?”
She gave him a fleeting glance.
“No.”
He followed her, carefully observing her work, like an eager apprentice. He cupped his hands towards the hole in the hosepipe from where water was trickling out, and turned towards the flower bed and sprinkled on it. When he turned back to the hosepipe again, Dai Ma asked, “What are you doing?”
“I am helping you to water the plants,” he said.
“Amit baba, there is no need.”
But he felt there was. On his fifth turn, his feet tangled with the hosepipe and he tumbled down.
Dai Ma shouted, “I told you there is no need! Now go in and wash yourself.”
He stood still, looking at her with a hurt expression. He briefly dabbed water on his hands and legs and examined the tulip bed.
“Wow,” he said turning to Dai Ma, “look Dai Ma, this one is so beautiful. Please give this one more water than others.”
She didn’t say anything.
He proceeded to examine the rose bed. Concealed under its vibrant, sprawling peers, Amit saw a black, deformed rose. Poor creature! – fighting with death on the threshold of life when its peers were enjoying sunbathe. Amit laid his palm under it and gently tried to lift if up, but it fell again, like a depressed man.
Amit said, “Dai Ma—Dai Ma, please, listen.”
“What?”
“Dai Ma, no, don’t give extra water to that flower. Give extra water to this, please. It is sick.”
He stood up and watched it piteously. He didn’t examine the beds further, his heart being too weak.
Dai Ma said, “Amit baba, go in and have your dinner. Today papa will come late.”
He sat on the inverted bucket and looked at the flowers and manicured grass.
Dai Ma said, “Amit baba go in, otherwise Mummy will be angry.”
He went in, reluctantly, and sat on a chair in the dining room. Mummy was in the kitchen. His eyes fell on a familiar shape under the divan. He went over and took it out.
“Mr Mousey!” he said. “What are you doing here?”
He was about to ask Mr Mousey what he did in the vacations and if pestered Mummy, but when turned about he saw Mummy standing near the dining table, holding the plates, eyeing him furiously.
He looked at Mr Mousey and then at Mummy.
He said, “Mummy—no—no, Mummy I wasn’t—I wasn’t talk—talking to it, I was just seeing it” (she went back in the kitchen, without saying anything) “Mummy listen—mummy—”. He threw Mr Mousey down and trampled it until its tail popped out, kicked it under the divan and went back to his chair. Mummy came out a minute later, and keeping a bowl on the table she sat opposite to him. Amit took two cutlets and evenly diced them with his table knife. He poked his fork in them, gently, in the middle so that the grip doesn’t betray in mid-air, and ate them. After Mummy cleared the table, Amit sat on the sofa and started reading his Spiderman comic again. An hour later, he saw Dai Ma enter the balcony carrying a rolled paper. One page later, he kept the comic in pocket, and peeked in. Dai Ma was sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the pillar, eating peanuts kept on the paper. Amit rushed to his room and tore a page from his copy. In the kitchen, he poured out salt on the page, and folded it. He filled two glasses with water and took all this to the balcony. Giving Dai Ma a smile, he sat opposite to her, and unfolded the page.
“Dai Ma,” he said, “it tastes better with salt. Try it.”
He saw with dismay that less than a dozen peanuts were left on the paper. When they were finished, Dai Ma folded the paper and was going away, when Amit said, “Dai Ma, are there no more?”
“Yes. Wait.”
She kept the paper back and brought a sack and poured out peanuts on it. Amit had only shelled a peanut and daubed it with salt when he saw Dai Ma fold the cot she was sitting on. She said, “After eating, leave it all here. I’ll clear it.”
When she had reached the door, he called in barely audible voice, “Dai Ma.”
She hadn’t heard. She walked away.
He ate the nut in his hand. He shelled another peanut and ate it. Still chewing, he leaned forward and saw Dai Ma ironing. He shelled another peanut. He leaned forward; Dai Ma was still ironing. He threw the nut at the moon and walked to his room. He struggled through his holiday homework. Then, tearing a page from his copy, keeping aside all things, and taking out a fountain pen, he wrote in neat handwriting:

From
Amit

To
______
Address:
______
______
Dear my best friend,
How are you? I am fine. I hope you are fine.
Today I did very big mistake. I saw Mister Mousi sitting under bed. I was seeing him after one year so I asked him, “How are you?” Then I turned and saw Mummy was standing behind. I was feeling so sad. I wanted to hit myself.
Did I tell you my best friend that Dai Ma talked to me in the train? Yes she did. I was happy. But I do not know why she did not talk after that. She told me to sleep alone that night when I slept next to her. I was feeling so afraid in my room that I was vibrating but she did nothing. She is very hard heart. It is the first time I remember I sleep alone. And that is not all as today in the garden I was helping her and I fell down. She did not even pick me up. But she shouted on me. And after that when she was eating moongphali in the balcony I brought salt and water so that I and she can eat peacefully. I was sad because no peanuts were left. But then I became happy when she brought more. But then I became sad when she gave peanuts and walked away. I thought she will come back but she did not. I was thinking we will talk like we did in back days. In back days she would very happily tell me about her village. And I would tell her about my friend Raman. I would tell her he is my best friend and we share lunch and lot of things more. But there was no Raman. I was lying because she was very happy when I talked about Raman. In the bording school I had thought a lot of things about Raman that I would tell her to make her happy. But I could not tell her because she does not talk to me. Did I tell you my best friend that Dai Ma had stopped talking to me some years before I went to bording school? Yes she had stopped talking. I do not understand why. She even stopped Dettoling my hurts and forcing me to drink milk and lot of things more. She did nothing if I fell or got hurt or was sad. She stopped spending even one rupees on me. Earlier she would get me toys and mangoes but now she never ever does. At the railway station I asked for the new adventures of batman and robin special edition comic but she not give money.
When she talked to me in train I thought things have changed. But after that she did not talk anymore. She does not love me anymore. I know it. Sometimes I think she does not love me because she thinks I am a dirty beggar. Sometimes I feel like a pin is going inside my heart. Now I will also not talk to her and I will also not love her.
I saw long back photos one day. In them I was very small and Mummy was loving me. But now she does not. Both Mummy and Dai Ma both stopped loving me. Sometimes I start feeling I have really become a dirty beggar. Only Papa loves me and that also only sometimes. But he was not at home today. I feel so sad. My heart hurts.
Please reply soon. Not like last time.

Amit folded the letter and kept in the red bag along side similar unaddressed and unsent letters. The red bag had two pockets. On the pocket brimming with these letters, there hung a tag: ‘Letters to be send to my best friend’. On the other pocket, which was empty, the tag read: ‘Letters got from my best friend’.
It was twelve o’clock. Amit sat on his bed, took out the marble idol from his drawer, held it between his palms and murmured a prayer. He kept it back and stretched on the bed. He turned over and looked at the moon. White. Gloomy. Silent. He turned over and looked at the ceiling. Withering paint. Glum. Dull. Something was irritating him. He sat up. Crickets were chirping. He drew aside the blanket and walked out of room. Drawing room was dark, lit only by pale moonlight. Dai Ma was sleeping on cot, absolutely still. No sound. Only crickets chirping. Mummy’s room door was closed. He picked up Mr Mousey and cleaned it with his shirt. Sorry, he said, sorry. He looked around. Mummy was not there. He was sweating. He tried to fix the broken tail. Couldn’t. I’m very sorry, he said, very very sorry. He walked back to room clutching it to his chest.