It was only when my grandmother was taken to the hospital that I learnt who she was. Till then, all I knew was that Aaji had held important posts in big offices and that she liked to sit beside the window and listen to children walking to school. Her favourite saying was, ‘Make the most of your opportunities, because not everyone gets them.’
But now I understood how much I missed her. I wished she was here, sitting in her chair, smelling of sandalwood and coconut oil. Tears filled my eyes and I stumbled forward to sink into her chair. I sat there, longing for Aaji. Gradually, I realised that something under her cushion was making an uncomfortable lump.
It was a faded and worn blue cloth bag. I had often seen Aaji holding it, a faraway look in her eyes. The bag was small and embroidered on it was Aaji’s name. The neat stiches spelt “Shashi”. Sniffing sadly, I ran my fingers over the stitches. The walls of my house melted away.
Off to school
Instead, I was walking towards a small building with a red-tiled roof. I was carrying a new bag, with a slate and a piece of chalk in it. Tai had given it to me, saying, “Look, I’ve put your name on it!” I looked at it sadly because I couldn’t even read my name. But, if all went well, I would soon learn to read. It depended on what happened in school. “Hurry,” my uncle said. “I’ve travelled all this way just to enrol you in school!”
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“Let me talk,” my brother whispered. Heart thumping, I followed Kaka into the school. The children stared at us and I stared back, wishing I was sitting on the floor with them, my slate balanced on my knee.
“Masterji,” Kaka said, “these are my cousin’s children. He passed away last year, and I’ve come here to settle things. Here,” he called to us, “tell Masterji your names!”
“Rajendra Patil,” my brother announced.
“Shashi Patil,” I said and knew my brother was surprised that I had spoken.
“Rajendra and Shashi,” Masterji smiled, “welcome to school!” To Kaka he said, “Bring the other children too.”
“There’s one more boy,” Kaka said. “I’ll bring him next year. The rest…all girls. And girls don’t need an education!”
What a good thing it was that Tai had cut my hair short this morning and dressed me in my brother’s clothes! Aai had protested. But we knew Kaka would only enrol me in school if I was a boy. Our plan had worked! Now, I would learn to read and write. One day, I would read my name on the bag.
Some day Kaka would realise that he had been tricked into enrolling a girl in school. By then, it would be too late to do anything. Because how did you take knowledge back? It would stay with me, for ever and ever! The thought made me smile.
“Sneha!”
I jumped, fingers sliding off Aaji’s name. I was home and Baba was smiling and saying, “Aaji will be home soon.” I felt relief flood through me. I looked at the bag that could transport me to Aaji’s world. Then, I put it back in its hiding place.
I had walked a little way in Aaji’s shoes. I wanted to hear about the rest of her journey from Aaji.
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