“It has been 15 years. Whenever I ask you about dad, you either ignored me or just said he lives out of the country. Why the hack I had never received a call, letter or even a single message from him. Just a gift once in a year that too on my birthday tagging from dad, nothing else. Why? Why? Why? Wait!! If dad is out of the country for work, he must be sending us monthly expenses right?? Then why are you working day and night for our expenditure??” Kiara let out her frustration, “You know what, you’re a liar. A bloody liar.” Kiara accused her mother, not knowing what impact her words had on her mom. 

Arnali smiled sadly. It has to come one day and today is the day, she thought. 

No one had dinner that night. Nearly 12:00 nights, Arnali went to see Kiara but she was not there. Knowingly, where she would be, Arnali made two cup of coffee and went to the terrace. 

It’s Kara’s habit whenever she argues with her mother, she comes there. 

Arnali smiled seeing her daughter sitting on a swing, lost in her thoughts, most probably crying.

“Sorry mommy, I should have not talked with you like that. I’m sorry.”, Kiara apologized.

Arnali kept quiet for a moment . “I was in my teens when I and your dad met,” Arnali said suddenly. 

“No mom! I don’t want to know anything.”, Kiara cut her in mid.

“You have the right, sweety. You should have known why you’re not with your father. It’s time to tell you the truth.”, Arnali said and continued, “I’m from an orthodox family but they loved me a lot and never said no to me. But I was caged. They gave me what I wanted till it’s good for my reputation. I’m the pampered one for sure but I was bound by rules. After 12th, I got admission in university but no one wants me to go out of the city. Mom and brother were supporting me. After long three days of arguments, they allowed me but with strict warning.”

” What happened afterwards? “, asked Kiara. 

” Like everyone, I too felt like a bird who got all sky for herself after being caged for years. There l met Amaya and Radhika. They were my roommates and classmates. Amaya, she’s a girl with morals. She would help you if only if it’s not harmful for her. And Radhika, loved to be called Radz. She is a perfect example of beauty and the brain. She loved herself. She was so jolly and sassy. Both were from rich families and had no tension about the future as they were going to settle in the family business.

With time we become a gang of five ; me, Amaya, Radhika, Abhi, Rohit; their boyfriends. No one was there to stop me, to scold me. And in a year, I was fully changed. I stopped going home. I started wearing western clothes. I made my account on social media. A lot of things changed. Then he came into my life,” Arnali smiled sadly. 

“He??”  Kiara asked in confusion. 

” Your dad.”, Arnali replied 

” Oh.. Then what happened?”, Asked Kiara, taking interest in her mom’s love story.

Arnali smiled at her daughter’s curiosity and continued,” I still remember that day, when we met for the first time. He was a friend of Abhi from another stream. He gave flirty vibes. So, I decide to not interact much. But you can’t change your fate. He used to tease me every now and then. But also helps me. Suddenly he started to spend more time with us. Now, one more person is added to the gang. We exchanged our numbers. Sometimes, it feels like he was intentionally giving me attention. But I chose to ignore. With time, we started to chat. I started to enjoy his flirting. His cheesy comments made me blush. Our phones were always busy. I stopped calling home. I started to show my right on him. You know friends are bitches. Radz and Amu never left a chance to tease me. And their teasing made my feelings strong.

“Time passed by and we completed our second year. At the beginning of last year, he proposed to me. I was so happy that I, without thinking about pros and cons, accepted his proposal. You know, our mind stops working when our heart is in charge. Same happened with me. Everything was perfect. We were love birds. I was in so much love, I forgot all the warnings and on our farewell I submitted myself to him. Next morning, I was a mess. I was guilty, not for loving him but I crossed my limits. I cheated my family. I broke their trust. But he made me understand that nothing sort of happened. We’ll keep it a secret. Then before our last exam, I went through sudden nausea. My mind tricked, my body showed the symptoms. It was like a horrible dream. I want to talk to him. But before that I had to be sure. I went to the hospital and had a checkup. It comes true. I cried the whole night. No one was there to console me. Radz and Amu were out with their boyfriends. He had an exam the next day. I don’t want to disturb him. But I want to share it with someone. Who? I didn’t know. I called mom, talked a lot. I wanted to tell her but how shamelessly I could have told her that her daughter is…” , Arnali paused. 

” Pregnant! “, Kiara completed her mom’s sentence. 

” Yes! I was pregnant. Next day, after the exam, I told him about the pregnancy. He supported me. Told me to concentrate on the exam. I was relieved. After my exam, I searched for him the whole campus. He was nowhere. Radz told me, he went home as his mother was sick. I went back home. Days flew by, he stopped calling me. I messaged him, but he never replied back. Slowly, he blocked me from everywhere. I lost his contact. No one noticed my sad face, my dullness. But one person was observing me. She observed every change in my body, my nature, my mood swings ; my mom. She confronted me. I told her everything but to my bad luck my grandma listened to our talks. And a huge argument happened. 

Grandpa and grandma called me with different names. Mom and brother were quiet. They were being accused for sending me to University. Then after a lot of arguments they came into the solution. They told me to abort my child. And marry their choice of person. I was horrified. I can’t think of killing anyone. If that anyone is my own child who was not even born, no. Everyone forced me. But I denied. In anger, dad told me to leave the house if I wanted that child. My child was not a thing to call that. I left the house and came to Delhi. I called my friends but no one helped me out. That day I understood one thing, friendship should be limited from classroom to college campus. I somehow managed to get into a women hostel. After a lot of struggles, taunts, here I’m with my only family and strength.”, Arnali let out a breath after completing her past and smiled seeing her daughter.

 Kiara was unusually quiet for a time. Then suddenly asked, “Do you regret giving birth to me?” 

“No! Not at all,” Arnali replied, “you are my part, my life. How can I regret it? I hate your dad. I hate the fact that I loved him. I loved a cheater. Maybe he never loved me. But you are part of my love. Maybe I loved a wrong person but I loved truly and I was honest with my love. And you are a symbol of my first love. You are part of me. You are proof of my honesty. You are the reason for my existence. And now, I only love you,” Arnali confessed. 

” You never told me his name.”

” Do you want to know??” 

“No!  I already know the name of my dad.”

“Really?? What is the name??” 

“Ms. Arnali deshmukh!! MY mom, my dad, my friend, my sister, my everything is you mom. How can I call him as my dad who ran away with the news of my birth.  You are my everything. You single-handedly managed everything. You single-handedly gave birth to me. You single-handedly brought this house. Working, house chores, my stuff and then our financial condition. Mom I have seen you working day and night. I saw you crying at night. I saw how you skipped your sleep just to give me the best. Mom I have you to share my problems but you had no one. I’m sorry mom for being a bad daughter. Today, I promise I will be your best friend. Now, I will proudly say that my mom is a single mother. ” Kiara said. 

Author’s Note:~ It’s so hard to be a single parent, either it’s a mother or a father. A single parent, not only plays the role of both father and mother but also plays the role of Being, a friend, sister, brother and a lot more. And we should respect them for that. They single-handedly raise their children and make them a good person. 

Writer: Meenakshi

Artist: Kavya

The virus roamed about outside, waiting to sink its claws into anyone foolish enough to walk around without adequate protection. It was invisible but had the strength to stay alive for over forty-eight hours.

Maya’s maid was waxing eloquent over the graphic descriptions floating around as freely as the virus itself.

“Madamji, the virus is powerful. Some say it’s a punishment from God because we have been torturing Mother Nature.”

Maya smiled at the animated expression on Lakshmi’s lined face. Nowadays, all she could do was talk about the virus. When the neighbour’s maids stopped coming for work, Maya was unconcerned. Lakshmi and her family stayed in their servant’s quarters. So, she continued working, and talking!

Of late, Maya had found herself flagging. She, who could do housework without a break, now found it difficult to even clean out the refrigerator, a chore that she didn’t trust Lakshmi to do. Maya would sit down on a low stool and clean section by section, wiping down the interiors till they shone. Nowadays, she found herself short of breath.

The doorbell rang, startling her. Lakshmi ran to open the door. Maya could hear muffled voices.

A young man walked into the living room, smiling. “Hello, Maya Aunty.”

Maya tried to place him. Why did he look so familiar? Those eyes, that smile? Who did he remind her of?

“Hello,” she replied, a tiny frown on her face.

The young man laughed, and again she could see the resemblance to a face from her past.

“Aunty, I’m Samir, Archana’s son.”

Archana, her closest friend in college and her confidant… her soul twin. Her heart soared.

“Come here and give me a hug,” she said, involuntary tears blinding her for a moment.

“Aunty, after I wash my hands,” he smiled again. He was in town for an interview, but suddenly the Prime Minister had announced a lockdown. There was no place he could go to as he was stuck for the next twenty-one days.

The afternoon flew by in the retelling of anecdotes, the days gone by and the bonds that still shone bright.

As the clock struck four, Maya got up with a start.

“Sorry, Samir, let me show you to your room.”

“Aunty, will it be a problem for you? I could always shift to a hotel, you know?”

“Don’t be silly! Archana’s son, a problem?” She placed a gentle hand on his head, and he was struck at her weary expression.

This was not how his mother had described her friend, Maya, who had been a girl filled with vivacity, willing to take any dare and turn it around. The old Maya had broken rules with impunity and even climbed up to the roof of the college. The Principal himself had ordered her to come down, as the whole college applauded her for her daring.

This Maya seemed to be wrapped in a mantle of sorrow that revealed itself in her careworn face and stooped shoulders.

The answer was not long in coming.

“So, you’re Archana’s son, are you?” Maya’s husband, Amit, had a brusque manner about him, a tall, imposing man with an air of importance. “I have heard Maya speak of Archana and the good old days. I have never believed half the things she has told me.”

Samir smiled even though the statement irked him. However, he could not afford to argue with his brand-new host.

Shalini was lounging in a chair, while Shivani was rummaging through some files in the study. They were twins, identical enough to be mistaken for each other.

“Ma, where is my homework file?”Samir was taken aback at her impatient tone. It held a world of frustration, almost dislike in it.

“It was there in the morning, Shivani,” replied Maya.

“I know, Mom. It isn’t there now. Did you shift it, as you always do?” The tone had turned aggressive.

Amit joined in. “Shivani, don’t you know your mother? She is incapable of keeping things where they belong. She will have no idea if you ask her.”

The two girls snickered, looking at their dad with raised eyebrows. Samir was shocked. Why was Maya keeping quiet while the whole family carped at her? He wanted to step in badly, but he wasn’t part of the family. He glanced at Maya, who was fumbling around, looking for her daughter’s precious file. Two spots of red stood out on her cheeks.

The next few days were a revelation to Samir. He had heard so much about the firebrand Maya from his mother, and yet, she seemed to have disappeared altogether into the skin of another woman who didn’t resemble her in the least. She had turned into a darts board for her family. Sadly, neither her husband nor her daughters thought they were doing anything wrong.

“Maya, could I have a decent cup of coffee?”Amit would begin early in the morning, as he lounged around in the living room, reading his newspaper as though his life depended on it. The doorbell would ring continuously… the milkman, the fish monger, the newspaperman. The twins would also be around, but neither of them would open the door.  Maya would drop all that she was doing and rush to the door. For as her family said openly, “You’re at home all day. What work do you have? Just a bit of cooking. The maid comes to clean up anyway.” Ironically, now that they were all at home due to the national lockdown, they felt no need to exert themselves in the least.

Samir went for a walk every morning in the terrace as the virus had ensured that the streets were deserted. Once he was back home, he tried to help Maya as much as possible.

“Samir, I’ll do it. I’m used to it, dear boy,” she would say.

“Aunty, I help Mom at home all the time. I can even cook a little. You sit down and let me make you my famed elaichi tea. You’ll never drink normal tea after that.”

Maya allowed herself to be led to a comfortable chair. As she sipped at the steaming cup of tea, her eyes grew wide in wonder.

“Samir, this is the best tea I’ve had, cross my heart!”

Cross my heart! How had that slipped out, she wondered. It was a pet phrase when she and Archana were growing up. She hadn’t said it in a long time. She looked at the young man who sat alongside her, as he stared at her, a strange sadness in his eyes.

“I know, Aunty. Mom used to talk about the catch phrase … the jokes and the fun you had together.” She smiled at him and there was a tiny twinkle in her eye. He fancied hecould see a trace of the young girl she had been.

“Mom, have you ironed my skirt?” came an imperious call from inside. Shalini was obviously ransacking her cupboard, turning everything higgledy-piggledy in her fury.

“MOM!!!” the call came again. Maya started to get up, but Samir held her down.

“Let me go and check, Aunty,” he said, ignoring the harassed look on her face.

Shalini was pulling out everything from her cupboard as Samir walked in. She turned, red-faced, her temper having got the best of her.

“Where on earth is Mom?” she asked him, trying to tone down her anger.

“She is busy in the kitchen.Can I help you?”

“You’re a boy. How can you help?” Her tone was scornful.

“Oh, I help my mom and my sisters all the time. I do my own cupboard too, so I am a bit of an expert.” he smiled at her astonished expression.

He picked up her clothes and began folding them with an expert hand.

“Have you heard of Marie Kondo?” he asked her. She shook her head.

“Well, she has this fabulous method of folding clothes. See, you smoothen out the crease, and then you begin to fold every piece in this manner.” In no time at all, he had cleared a space on the bed and placed a bundle of perfectly folded clothes, one on top of the other.

Shalini’s mouth was open as she watched him in something resembling awe.

“Try one,” he offered. Soon, the two of them were folding clothes, even having a contest on who could do it faster, when Shivani walked in.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

“What does it look like, pudding-head?” her sister retorted. Shivani couldn’t believe her eyes at how neat Shalini’s cupboard looked.

“Hey, could you help me too?” she asked.

“Of course, let’s get started.”

“And now, have you found that skirt of yours, the one you were asking your Mom to hunt for?” he finally asked.

Shalini held it out, shame-facedly.

“Let me iron it for you. I am also an expert at that.”

He took it from her and smoothed out the creases and ironed it out for her. The two girls watched him in silence. The obvious question lurked in both their minds. Finally, Shivani could not resist.

“How is it that you are good at all these things? Being a boy?”

Samir chuckled. “I have a tough nut of a mother who made it clear from the start that I should not consider myself privileged just because I am a boy. I have always ironed my clothes, washed my underclothes and kept my room clean.”

“What about your sisters?” asked Shalini.

“Oh, they do the same. All three of us have duties. We go buy groceries, pick up the milk and the newspaper and take it in turns on weekends to cook.”

“WHAT???” Both the girls shouted so loudly that Maya came scrambling in to see what the matter was. She looked at the two cupboards of the girls in shock. Never ever had she seen them so tidy, with clothes perfectly folded.

“Samir, did you do that?” she quavered.

“Well, all three of us did it, Aunty,” Samir grinned.

That was a start.

The next chore Samir wanted to tackle was cooking. There were times when he wanted to shake up the girls for the way they disparaged their mother’s cooking. However, he would have to be tactful.

That evening, Maya was kneading dough for rotis. Samir loved the aroma of freshly made rotis, an aroma that reminded him of his mother.

 “Let me make a special egg curry, Aunty,” he remarked.

“No, son, you’re a guest. How can I make you cook?” smiled Maya.

“Please, Aunty, I have a really delicious recipe. I make it at home all the time.”

Maya smiled at him. “Archana was always the brave one. Even when she was in college, she had strong views on gender equality. I remember one speech that she made, where she proclaimed that if she had a son, she would make him proficient, not only at his career, but also at home chores. She said that she would not want a parasite, be it a son or daughter.”

“Well, she stuck to her stand and now, all three of us have knuckled under it,” Samir laughed. Maya knew that he was proud of his mother and that he was trying to pass on a message to her as well.

“Mmm, what’s that amazing smell?” The girls walked into the kitchen, something they never did.

“Just some egg curry that I am making… plus all the other amazing smells from Aunty’s rajma curry and bhindi-alu.” Samir watched the girls’ faces change.

“Ma always makes the same old things. We are sick and tired of her cooking!” Shalini was the vocal one, and Shivani just nodded.

This was Samir’s cue. He turned to them, a challenge in his sparkling eyes.

“Ok, tomorrow, let’s cook some new dishes. We will give Aunty a rest and the three of us will take over the kitchen. What do you say?”

“But we don’t know how to cook,” pouted Shivani.

“There is nothing to cooking… just a matter of placing ingredients together and coming up with a dish. We could go into the Internet right now and create a menu. What do you both say?”

The girls glanced at each other. It sounded exciting.

 “Will you help us?”

“Of course, I will,” whooped Samir. “Let’s do it!”

The evening went by as the three pored over recipes.

“How about a Chinese menu?” suggested Samir.

“Wow, we love Chinese,” came the answer.

The next morning went in a flurry of slicing vegetables, creating sauces and making noodles and chilli chicken. The girls went up and down from the laptop to the kitchen, measuring out everything as though in a lab. When Maya tried to help, she was sent away firmly.

“Go and put your feet up, Aunty. We are having loads of fun.”

Amit came in, wondering at all the activity. He turned to Maya.

“Get me a cup of tea,” he said in his normal brusque tone.

“Uncle, can I make you a cup of elaichi tea?” asked Samir. “There is no place in the kitchen with all three of us in there.”

Soon, Amit was sipping at elaichi tea, dazed at the sight of his lazy daughters working in the kitchen. He stole a glance at Maya who was, for a change, reading the newspaper and looking at ease, very unlike her normal worried self. A pang of compunction tore through him, but he was too conditioned to needling her to let it really matter.

“So, Madam, you’re having a rest, are you? Wait till these guys get out of the kitchen. They will leave it a mess and you’ll be cleaning it up.”

At the end of the cooking session, Samir rounded the two girls up. “Time to clean up!”

“Oh, Ma can do that.  She has been sitting doing nothing, after all,” replied Shivani.

“And I am exhausted!” added Shalini.

“Really? Then imagine how exhausted your mother gets. She does this, day in and day out, with not a soul to help her,” Samir remarked slyly. He did not wait to see the effect this statement had on the girls, but set about getting them to clean up the kitchen.

Lunch was a spectacular success. Samir made the girls take out their good crockery and cutlery. After a good clean-up, he showed them how to lay the table, the way he and his sisters did at home. The dishes looked and tasted wonderful, and Amit and Maya applauded them for their efforts.

That evening, they had the leftovers for dinner. Amit went into the study to catch up on his office work, and the girls went to bed, exhausted but happy. Maya and Samir sat outside on garden chairs, in perfect silence, looking up at the stars. They could see fireflies at a distance as the balmy cool breeze swept over them.

“Aunty, what are you thinking?” he asked.

“You know, Samir, remember that speech that I mentioned? The one that your mother made in college?”

He nodded. She went on, dreamily, “I wish I could hear it all over again.”

Samir smiled in the darkness. “And you shall. I will ask Mom to email the video to me.”

Maya ruffled his hair gently, a world of emotion running through her. Such a dear boy, so like her Archana! They sat there in silence as a sense of peace entered their souls.

“What do we do today?” asked Shivani.

“Let’s do some gardening?” suggested Samir.

“No, that’s boring!” remarked Shalini.

“My mom would whack you for that,” remarked Samir.

“What for?” asked an affronted Shalini.

“For using the word ‘boring’… Mom made sure that she whacked the word out of us. Every time we used it, she would cut off our privileges – no television, no Internet, no playing with friends. We soon stopped using it at all – the taboo word, as we refer to it even now.”

“Your mom sounds really tough,” Shivani looked at Samir. “You must have been terrified of her.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. We adore our Mom. If we are all well-balanced young people, it is because she was strict with us. And yet, we had the most fun times with her as well. She celebrated every festival with gusto. She played cards and board games with us. She gave away food and clothes to strangers just so we would learn the importance of giving. She is the most fun mom ever. And from what she has told me, Maya Aunty was just like her, even funnier than she was.”

The girls were silent. Their mother was not strict in the least and yet, they could not think of her as a fun mom. There was a noise behind them, and there stood Amit, a strange expression in his eyes.

Samir stood up suddenly. “Actually, I have a better idea. I would like to show you all something on my laptop.”

The family sat together in the study, watching in silence.

“I believe in gender equality. A man and a woman hold up equal parts of the sky. Anything a man can do, a woman can do. In fact, there are things that a woman can do, that a man cannot.

I live my life in perfect freedom. I will continue to do so. I will marry a man who respects me for what I am. When I have children, I will make them proficient at their professions and at home chores. That will make them balanced human beings fit to survive in the world. I will not bring up a parasite, be it a son or a daughter. That much will I promise myself.”

The speech ended, the camera zoomed around the campus, where hundreds were applauding. Archana was in the frame, a smile on her face, but she too was applauding as the camera panned on to the speaker, her soul twin and her friend, Maya.

Writer: Deepti Menon

Artist: Pratiksha Dhanik