The Yellow Walls

"Mom!" Mamta was jerked awake from her light sleep. "Yes, Rahul?" She asked lovingly. "I hate this dirty wall!" Came the whiny reply from the 10 years old. "Why don't we paint it? All my friends laugh at me!"

For some inexplicable reason, Mamta was missing Rahul since morning. His mischiefs, his naughty smile... Everything. Rahul was in the US with his family. He had settled there some time ago. It will be midnight over there now. Harsh sunlight from the window was hurting her eyes. Mamta got up to shut the panes. Few kids were playing in the park across the street. A child of around 5 was riding a tricycle. She was lost in her daydream again... 

"Mom, I need a tricycle this birthday. All my friends have it. Why can't I have one?" he pleaded. How could she explain to the child that their financial condition didn't allow them to indulge into such luxuries. She lacked the required oratorical skills to impress upon the kid that the parents of his friends have high paying jobs, whereas, she's a lowly Class IV Railway employee. A job, which she got when her husband died on duty. She was barely able to make both ends meet after paying Rahul's school fees. Rahul didn't get his tricycle and declared that he's the unluckiest child in the world. He didn't talk to her for days. 

Mamta again looked at the walls. They were originally painted white but aged with time and turned yellow. Just like her. Rahul hated yellow color. He considered it a color associated with weakness and disease. He used to tell her, "...this is the basis of the term 'Sickly Yellow'." But they could never afford to paint the walls to any other color. Now this same 'Sickly Yellow' reminded her of Rahul. 

In 10h standard, Rahul was the 3rd in state and 1st in his school. He wanted to be a software engineer. The nearest engineering college asked for 50k donation for admission in a diploma course. Mamta tried her best to arrange for a loan but was unable to furnish the required collateral. Rahul was unable to get a seat in the college and had to settle with a seat in a science college. That night he cried to sleep. That night, he wasn't the only person to cry in that house. 

Rahul was a genius. Mamta was always proud of him. He always used to top his class in college. No one was surprised when he topped the state again and was provided a scholarship in the biggest engineering college of the state. Mamta was proud! He had to pay ₹80,000 for the hostel fees for four years. The question was to arrange such astronomical figure. Mamta went to the local Provident Fund office. She had around ₹90,000 in her PF account, but according to the PRO, she could only withdraw around ₹50,000 as a loan. Where to arrange the remaining ₹30,000 was the horrifying challenge. She did what she had avoided till date...she sold the chain and the conjugal locket, which was given to her on her wedding day by her husband and was the only memorabilia of him. That night Rahul was exuberant! That night someone cried alone in that house. 

She saw a young couple sitting below a tamarind tree. Lost in their own lavender world. Teasing each other and laughing. A smile automatically formed itself on Mamta's lips. Isn't this how Rahul was playing with Alicia? Alicia, who was the daughter of a police commissioner and spoke English with an accent. She hated their government issue quarters with its faded white walls. She vocally complained, "Rahul! You are a B. Tech! Have some shame! This house! Pathetic man!" Rahul was embarrassed. Mamta's eyes were searching for cracks in the dirty floor in which she can hide herself. She was watching the struggle of an ant with a piece of biscuit - 100 times bigger than its might - trying valiently to take it home. That night Rahul and Mamta fought. Rahul cried. He was not alone in his expression of grief. The same ceiling shared another grieving soul, who was searching for love and understanding and found it wanting. 

Rahul and Alicia wanted to move permanently to the US after marriage but Rahul couldn't decide what to do with his aging mother. Alicia always grumbled at this obstacle in their future. She wanted to confront her mother in law and explain why it's important for Rahul to move to the US. Rahul always stopped her. He didn't want any bitterness. 

She was jolted by the ringing phone. It was her neighbor. She was discussing her usual tragic stories. How can someone be so sad? Mamta ended the call. She was fed up of these sad stories! She remembered the call on that fateful night... 

She was awoken by the incessantly ringing phone at 3am. Alicia's hysterical voice jolted her awake. By the time she could get oriented, Rahul's controlled voice came online. "It's all right, Ma. Don't worry." There are a very few terms in any language equivalent to 'Don't Worry', which naturally cause one to worry. Mamta couldn't sleep again that night. Strange are these kids! They keep you awake when they are infants and never let you sleep when they grow up! Mamta still remembers. She laughed when she kept the phone. It was much later that she cried. She cried her heart out when Rahul left for US on his wife's insistence. 

The sun was setting. She was sitting before the mirror, combing her hair. She saw the graceful wave of silvery hair, proclaiming her wisdom and age and remembered without rancor the last discussion with Alicia, who was horrified that her mommy-in-law is so casual with her premature gray hairs! She was mortified to see a single strand of whiteness in the darkest velvet of her own crown and screamed! She tried to explain the young fool what years had taught her: beauty is a wind. Wisdom is the rock. Winds pass and are forgotten. Rocks stay for ages. How Alicia laughed and ridiculed her! Even Rahul collapsed laughing. Mamta smiled at the thought. 

12 years have passed. Sometimes he calls. Mamta was like a child. Whose happiness is dependent on just a bar of candy. For her, talking to her grandson Abir was the greatest pleasure in the world. 

A shrill alarm brought Mamta back to reality. She looked around. The yellow walls returned her bewildered and desperate looks with their friendly stare. Mamta got up. She checked the clock. She hastened to get her dinner set. Yesterday she was late and the mess closed. She had to sleep hungry. She couldn't avoid thinking proudly that in spite of her financial conditions, Rahul never slept hungry!

She stood in the line. 

The off white yellow walls of Theresa Old Age Home smiled to her with a bonhomie. These yellow walls seem to show more compassion than her own brood. 

She looked back at those smiling yellow walls and giggled.