Dadaji loved me the most, and I was certain of this fact. I was ready to trade anything for a few minutes of being with him. After school, I used to sit in the courtyard bench looking out for him. My grandmother often scolded me to take my afternoon nap, but I was adamant. I made sure I tried my best to run around and ask her to catch me, or chuckle at her when she waited and caught her breath! But she had her winning card – “I will tell your father what a menace you are and how you trouble me.” That one liner made me go to bed, and lie there for a few minutes.
As soon as I could hear her snore, I knew that I was free again. And one day, it was at that time, when no one was around, I decided to sabotage Dadaji’s prized possession. Did I have another choice? The evenings when he would have played with me, he was at his piano. We always had friends or neighbours around to hear him play it. And how wonderfully he played it!
I climbed downstairs, whisked into the kitchen and ran across the courtyard. Faster and into the forbidden room. They had always said mean things to me like “Finish your homework.” “Don’t make noise.” “Don’t play near it.” “Dadaji is busy.” It was the root of all causes. I could not take it anymore! I uncovered it, and sat on the table by it’s side – just like dadaji. It was grand and huge. The keys shone in stark contrast highlighting the black and savoring the white. It felt real and mesmerizing. I put on dadaji’s old spectacles and winked in the air, just like he did before each performance. I softly placed a finger at the first key.
“What do you think you are doing young lady?” “Dadaji, I was just…ummm…..covering the piano for you.” In a nervous wreck, I adjusted his large old spectacles on my tiny nose. It didn’t sound believable. He flashed a big smile and winked at me. “Want to learn how to play it?” “But I am not allowed to touch it. Dadi says it is precious. Is it dadji?” “Not more precious than you darling. I will give it to you when you grow up. You promise to take good care of it?” And I nodded.
Twenty years passed with a manifold turn of events. I had moved to the city and sunk into the city lifestyle. Preoccupations swirled me into the craziness of mere existence. After Dadaji’s spacious five acre house, I had forayed into a small studio apartment on the fifteenth floor. Late nights and late mornings had permanently moved into my life, erasing all signs of discipline which my grandmother had tried to push into me. Life as you know it, had been blatantly blown out of proportion.
It was a long day after work when I came back to find his letter at my doorstep. I don’t remember exactly what he had written, but I could not read past the first few lines. “The house is being auctioned and I am going to live with your parents now. They said my debts could no longer be withheld. After your grandmother, this house had been my only companion. But it’s too big for me to maintain.” He had written a few lines about his plans at my parent’s house. But very feebly, at the end was written “I could not fulfill all my promises- to you or to my family.” An overall happy letter, but dripping with tearing pain!
He had been a landlord, renting land to farmers. His respect and kindness had been known across villages. Recently, the government had announced land free holdings, and he had to give up all his land. To clear his debts, he had to auction whatever had been left with him. I could sense the feeling of loss in his letter and the emptiness in his life.
The weekend when I visited him, I found him sitting at the porch, waiting for me. “Your grandfather refuses to sleep, he kept waiting for you”, mom said. I smiled at him. Déjà vu it wasn’t, but the feeling wasn’t alien either! I could sense from his eyes the yearning for something… something he had left behind and had no more. “I am sorry about everything, I couldn’t bring you back the piano.” He smiled and looked at the ground. “I cannot play it anymore, my hands shiver a lot. But all I wanted was to give it to you.” And he heaved a big sigh. “I have beautiful memories of it, and of you playing it. What else do I need. And it won’t fit into my apartment either!” A tear left his eye and dripped on the dry grass. It shone in the sun.
“I wanted to meet you. But they say mean things to me like ‘She is busy’ ‘She has work’ ‘She has important things in her life’”. I laughed. “Of course not, nothing is more precious than you Dadaji.” “So you promise to come to see me every weekend?” “I promise. And we will go to the church, and you will play your favourite symphony for me.” His face lit up and he engulfed me with his big warm hug. Losses are traded, and life comes full circle, but till this day, whenever I go home, the porch is never empty…
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