Chapter 5
The gate creaked as Mounika opened it and somehow it sounded too loud as if the sound had been amplified a thousand times. She stood still to calm her nerves and her thudding heart though she did not know why she was feeling so tensed. As she slowly reached the door, she debated whether she should open it or not.
She looked around once more and felt it was safer to be inside rather than the unappealing outside. She pressed the calling bell but nothing happened. she pressed it once more with no sound heard.
"When did the calling bell get damaged?" she said to herself and knocked the door.
"Who is it?" came a tired female voice sounding harassed.
"It's me, mom!" Mounika answered as she wondered why her mother sounded so tired. What had happened?
"Come in, the door's open." she pushed the door and entered the house, and she was stunned beyond words at the condition that hit her eyes.
The sofa looked old and worn out, some of the sponge poking out. The dining table was too crowded with dishes and the napkins seemed as if no one had thought of washing them. The TV looked too old to be theirs and she wondered if it actually worked!
The floor had not been swept and clothes were strewn on the bed in her room. The double bedroom house was the same in structure but there was so much that was not the same!
'When had the family become so poor? What had happened?' She was stunned by how horrible the kitchen looked. The sink was broken and was obviously not in use. The kitchen platform was arranged neatly yet the crockery and cutlery were far less than what she had grown used to.
The tiles in the walls and the floor were either broken or too covered with grime - a sign of obvious neglect. When had her perfectionist mom become so placid? It was so shocking that she couldn't find words at all! She saw the almost black door open, and she walked out to see her mother washing the dishes near the old well.
The electric motor pump was obviously under repair and there was a small bucket placed near the well. When had they started drawing out water manually from the well? Her father was a respected government official, and they never had to endure too many hardships though they were not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. The contrast in lifestyle and the poverty was mind numbing.
Her mother was looking worn out and had dark circles behind her eyes. She was wearing a nightie that was obviously too old. When Mounika cleared her throat - in an effort to gather enough courage to speak - her mother spoke in a harsh voice that she would never have imagined could belong to her mother.
"Did you bring the vegetables?" Mounika was confused. When had her mother asked her to bring vegetables?
"Well, you did not tell me, so..." her mother turned towards her and Mounika was shocked beyond belief. Her mother appeared to have aged by at least 20 years. Her face was marred by lines of hardships and abuse. Her eyes were red due to lack of sleep and Mounika wondered when the last time was that her mother had slept.
"How am I supposed to feed four mouths if even you choose to be as irresponsible as your sister?" Mounika felt as if she had been slapped. How could her sister be irresponsible? What kind of nightmare had she walked into? And why was her mother looking like she was being physically abused every day?
"Why are you standing like that girl?" her mother said in an irritated tone which was a new for Mounika. "Did you at least bring the salary?"
"What salary?" her mother looked taken aback at first and then her face started changing colors till she was pale - deathly pale. Mounika was afraid that her mother had got a heart stroke but was relieved when she started crying uncontrollably.
Mounika still had no idea what was happening or why her mother was in such a horrible condition and what the reason for her grief was. She herself had a lot of questions that needed answers and she had no idea how to get them. She heard something crash hard and loud that made her mother stop crying and look frightened.
Mounika wondered what had happened that terrified her normally brave mother so much. She went inside the house to investigate and found her father trying to get up from the floor where he had fallen. Was he even her father? He looked so out of place with his unkempt beard, uncombed hair, clothes that were worn out and a body that reflected lack of exercise.
He had a whisky bottle in his right hand and a black cloth carry bag in his left. When he looked at her, his blood shot eyes sent chills down her spine. They were so drowsy and distant, devoid of any love. When had her father become such a drunkard? And why did she feel so scared of him?
"I brought chicken and other things." he said moving the black cloth bag towards her. "Prepare chicken tonight." and he lifted himself up with great effort and stumbled towards the master bedroom. Mounika stared at the receding figure of her father too shocked to speak or move.
"At least he brought something today!" Mounika turned towards the sound and found her mother picking up the cloth bag as if this was normal. "Clean your room while I cook this." Relieved that she had something to do, Mounika escaped to the safety of her room and began folding the clothes on the bed.
Her mind was like a hornet's nest, questions buzzing in her head non-stop, but she had no answers to any of them. All she had done was visit her friend's house and her world seemed to have turned upside down.
"What did I do to deserve this?" she muttered to herself. "Why did this happen? How did it happen? Who made it happen? Why and when? How to find the answers? How to get out of this situation?" She changed the bedsheet and made the bed as she thought.
She began tidying up the room in a systematic manner as her mother had taught her and soon the room appeared completely different. She noticed the old dressing table and set to work on it - using soap water and a cloth to remove the tonnes of dust and grime that had completely obscured the glass.
When she had restored the mirror, she looked at her reflection and gasped at what she saw in the mirror.