NINE
Images of a lifetime ran through her mind. It was as if she was watching a film. She had read about parallel universes. Metaphysics says nothing gets over in the sense of time. This means everything is eternal. Every moment, every emotion is eternal. It keeps on repeating itself. It's the theory of eternalism. All points of time are equally real, be it present, past or future. Nothing ever truly dies. The moment is forever embedded in the chronicles of time and space. Hence life and death possess same intensity and same control. It's no wonder that we go through moments that leave scars that pain forever. She thought of her father. How much he loved her!
She remembered her mother as a woman of passion. Short in build with brown eyes and a twinkling smile. They used to sing and dance together. She too had loved Maya a lot.
Maya turned to look at the picture of her mother on the table. Looking at it made her feel better. Her mother had been a painter, and lived in a world of her own. It was she who ignited sensitivity towards colours in her. She missed the times when they both would soak their hands in paint and leave marks on walls.
She was a lively person, but there was another side to her. Maya remembered her shedding tears in silence. Perhaps there was some kind of vacuum in her that she was unable to share, or express. Once she had walked into the bedroom to see her mother sitting with black paint spread on her canvas. She looked at Maya differently. She looked scared. As soon as she saw Maya she grabbed her and forced her to crawl under the bed. Maya was almost smothered. It was the first time she felt scared of her mother. Such incidents started happening more often.
Good days had her mother playing with her, cooking for her and acting normal. She would cry if Maya got hurt. She would sleep with Maya, surrounded by her warmth, she slept peacefully. Then there were those days when she acted distant. She would behave as if the house was haunted. At times she would tell Maya to empty her bag and check it thoroughly. Finally, the doctor confirmed that she was gradually becoming schizophrenic. Once, Maya overheard their conversation.
Doctor: “Her mental state is getting worse day by day.”
Dad: “What's to be done?”
Doctor: “I think you should send her to the medical institution now. It's dangerous for Maya.”
Dad: “How will Maya handle it?”
Doctor: “See, she has reached the state where she cannot differentiate from what's real and what ishallucination. She has already started seeing and imagining things that don't exist. She thinks everyone is out to kill her. It's just a matter of time, in this state she would even stop recognising Maya, and that can be very dangerous for the child.
But what would a little girl understand? How could her mother stop recognising her? What were they talking about? She turned around to see her mother standing right behind her with tears in her eyes. She silently kissed Maya and went inside her room.
Since then Maya's mom was kept under watch. Her father hired a nurse to look after her. But things only got worse from there. She started doubting her father and would refuse to take medicines. She would throw them away. The only person she was not scared of was Maya. She loved and hugged Maya with the same warmth as ever. But she rarely painted now.
Maya would never forget her ninth birthday, the last one she celebrated with her mother. She had painted a beautiful sunrise for her. That surprised everyone, as they thought she had given up painting. Most people hoped she was recovering. It was not to be. It was to be her last painting. Maya's last birthday with her mother. Her mother's last painting. Too many things ended that day, Maya thought, pensively.
When she returned from school the next day she could not find her. Instead, she saw her aunt waiting for her. She was told that her mother was in hospital, unconscious.
In the evening Maya's father took her to see her mother as Maya would not stop crying. She went in and saw her mother, with various tubes going in and out of her. Maya went and held her hand. It didn't seem to be her mother's hand anymore though it was still warm. Her mother opened her lifeless eyes, gave her one last look and closed them.
The doctor came in and asked her father to leave Maya outside and come in. Maya sat on the bench for a while till her father returned. He didn't look too good. It was the look of the man who had been tired and drained from day to day stress. Strangely, our everyday struggle wears us down much more than any one time crisis. He walked slowly towards Maya and kissed her on her forehead. Maya looked at his watery eyes and wished she could make him smile.
Later, in the night, her mother died. She didn't recover from her bid at killing herself. She had slit her wrist, unable to bear the agony any more.
The child that she was, she kept looking at the sky, searching for the star her mother had said she would turn into once she was no more.
Maya slowly got up from her bed and went to her cupboard. She retrieved the letter her mother had left for her before she attempted to take her own life. Maya must have read it a thousand times in these last few years.
My dear baby,
This is to tell you that I love you.
There may be times when I may not recognise you, but don't worry. Some stupid nerve disorder prevents me from being normal. When you grow up, you will understand what was it that was not letting me be normal. Please forgive me for the days I was not normal. It was out of my control. Remember that you were all I wanted to live for. You were all I ever painted and you always will be my little darling.
Never let anything worry you. Remember that the sun will always shine again. Like my paintings, some shades would be grey, but without them the picture would be incomplete. Be brave. Don't give up fighting for what you want. I pray to God to look over you. I wish I could tell how much I love you.
Remember love is simply love. Nothing can make or break or even create it. Similarly life simply is life. Nothing can create or end it. I will stay forever with you and you will be in my thoughts forever. With immeasurable love for my little angel.
Maya whimpered like a baby. She held the letter to her heart and let the tears flow.
She often wondered how could someone like her mother who had so much passion and zest for life could be mad enough to end it all. Possibly too much of passion is also dangerous.
Two years after her mother's death, her father married a cousin of Maya's mother thinking that it would be good for both of them.
Neetu, her stepmother, couldn't easily trust anyone anymore. She herself had been through difficult times. Her husband had eloped with another woman, within six months of their marriage.
She became a strict disciplinarian and Maya, who had never been beaten by her mother or her father, now received occasional thrashing from her stepmother. And sometimes, a tongue lashing as well!