The Flower Show
Afternoon tea time was routinely a relaxed daily ritual for Three S-es. Particularly so for rainy season or winter months. The Pune weather in these months being just wonderful, spending time with a hot cup of tea in hand used to be ultimate comfort. Kshipra and Sripad loved their afternoon siesta and found this tea a wake-up call. Poor Srini envied them every day as she was a poor sleeper even at night, and to add to that, an afternoon nap was unthinkable. She would spend afternoons doing some embroidery work as her eyesight was still remarkably good. As she would be awake anyway, the work of making tea was awarded to her by majority.
So on that afternoon in January also, Three S-es were enjoying and gossiping among themselves. Kshipra, the most talkative of them, suddenly had an idea. "Hey! Just listen to me. Why don't we go tomorrow morning to visit the flower show in Empress Gardens?"
Sripad set his teacup down with a soft clink. The bell on the table, untouched since lunch, seemed to catch the late afternoon light. "Empress Gardens?" he said, one eyebrow raised. "In this cold? You’ll drag us out before the sun’s even warmed up."
"That’s the point," Kshipra shot back, already animated. "The morning dew, Sripad. The petunias look like they’ve been dipped in glass. And the marigolds— Srini, you’ll love the yellows. Just like the border you stitched on that dupatta last Diwali."
Srini didn’t look up from her embroidery hoop. The needle paused, glinting. "I haven’t been to the flower show in… oh, must be ten years now," she said quietly. "Since Jaswant...." She let the sentence trail off, took a sip of tea instead.
Then Kshipra reached over and covered Srini’s hand with her own, warm from the teacup. "Then it’s decided," she said, softer now. "We go. Even Baba always said flowers were God’s way of not staying mum."
Sripad looked at the two of them — Kshi’s eyes bright with mischief again, Srini’s with something older, heavier. The old hurt was still there. But maybe Empress Gardens was a place it could cure.
"Fine," he sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "But I’m not getting up before seven. And I shall wear that woolen muffler you knit me, Srini. So far I had no occasion for that.”
Outside, the January sky was already turning the color of old brass. Inside, the house didn’t feel so quiet anymore.
Come next morning and the Three S-es left for Empress Garden in Sripad's Dzire. As usual, Srini sat on the front seat and Kshipra at the rear, with Sripad driving the car.
Empress Garden is located within the limits of Pune Cantonment, east of the race course.
The January morning was cold. Sripad pulled the woolen muffler Srini had knit a little tighter around his neck. "Cold enough for this at least," he said, with a glance at Srini.
Kshipra rolled down the window a crack. "And early enough that we’ll be back before lunch," she added.
They reached the gates. The place was already getting crowded. Sripad parked, locked the car, and the three of them stepped out.
Srini adjusted her saree against the chill. "It’s been a long time," she said quietly, not looking at either of them.
Kshipra slipped her arm through Srini’s. "Yes. Too long."
Sripad said nothing. He just nodded toward the gate. The bell from yesterday’s lunch table was far from his mind now. But the old hurt wasn’t. It walked with them, silent, as they went in.
They bought the entry tickets and went inside. The view ahead was really a treat for the eyes. The vast ground in front was filled with island-like arrangements made from circles and rows of potted plants. The vibrant flower arrangements showcased a beautifully organized display of colorful flowering plants in neat rows, creating a striking blend of textures and hues. Bright marigolds, celosia, petunias, salvias, and ornamental foliage plants were arranged harmoniously around large trees, with tall green shrubs adding height and structure. The combination of red, orange, yellow, purple, and green created a lively, refreshing garden scene that was both visually appealing and inviting.
"Wow! This is really fantastic!" exclaimed Kshipra. "Agreed," said Srini and Sripad.
They went around a number of such flower-pot islands, as if each one was competing with the others.
They found one island with a seat for two people. Srini and Kshipra quickly occupied the seat. Sripad had no choice but to stand near and talk.
He adjusted the woolen muffler, tugging it up against the January chill. "So," he said, looking not at the flowers but at the two of them, "was this worth dragging me out before seven?"
Kshipra laughed, breath clouding in the cold air. "You’re wearing the muffler, aren’t you? That’s answer enough."
Srini was fascinated with the flowers around her. "I always loved flowers and flower arrangements. I was also going for Ikebana classes when I was in Delhi. Because Jaswant knew about my love for flowers, he even drove us to Chandigarh once or twice for the famous rose show there," Srini mentioned.
"That must have been a great experience, I think! Aanandi also loved flower shows. Whenever there was a flower show in Sentosa, she would insist that we go there," said Sripad.
"Sentosa? Where is that?" Srini enquired.
"In Singapore!" Sripad answered.
"Were you in Singapore? When? You never told us." Kshi was really surprised.
"For almost 12 years," said Sripad.
Kshi naturally asked him, "You must tell us more about it."
"I shall, when we go home."
"That is why he was reluctant to come here," Srini interjected.
"Anyway, let's move on."
Three S-es continued further. Soon they entered a gate. On the other side was a large tent where roses and other plants that had won prizes were displayed. There was also a stall that displayed bonsai creations. Srini found it very interesting. Further up there were a large number of stalls selling plants and other stuff, and some eateries.
Kshipra suggested, "Why not have a vada-pav and chai?" It was outright rejected by the other two as being too oily. Finally they settled for hot chai.
After finishing the hot chai, they decided to return to the car park as there was a little bit of tiredness in their legs.
When they returned home it was just 11:30 am, perfect time for brunch. There was nobody at home as Bai pl had already come, finished her work, and gone. Dishes, glasses, everything was ready on the table. Two ladies of the group, Kshipra and Srini, feigned extreme tiredness and just took their seats. As usual, Sripad warmed up the sambar and idlis prepared by Bai already and served them along with hot coffee.
After they had their fill, Kshipra cleared the dining table and all of them relaxed in the hall.
"It was a good show, considering the seasonal and other restrictions. I was a little apprehensive yesterday but, Kshipra, thanks for the wonderful idea," said Sripad. Srini agreed.
Kshipra, as usual, had an idea. She told Sripad, "Hey! You promised us to tell how you reached Singapore. Why not now?" Sripad's face became a little bit serious. "It's a long story. It is true that the Singapore years were probably the best years of my life. But the events that led me to Singapore, or the preamble, are very painful to me. I even try to forget memories of those days. Yet it is better to go over them in the shortest possible time," said Sripad. "What I shall do is to describe to you my early years today. Before siesta time! Later years some other time," Sripad added. Both ladies agreed and suggested that he can take his own time for the narrative, since there is no urgency as such.
Sripad sat still, trying to concentrate, recollecting things from the past. Both the ladies, waiting to hear from him, also waited. Things suddenly became quiet except for the occasional noise from the road. Then Sripad started.
"My family, like Srini’s, was a lower middle class Marathi family staying in a two-room — actually, it was one large room — tenement in the Girgaon area of Mumbai. My grandfather shifted here from somewhere in Raigad district and took this tenement on rent. He raised four sons and a daughter there. My father was the second eldest son. As my grandma used to tell me, my father was good in studies as well as sports. Sometime in middle school he decided to join the army. Because of his efforts, he was successful and joined the army. Subsequently he married my mother, a girl from a similar middle class family. I was born in 1956 and my younger brother in 1960. His postings were mostly in forward areas, as I have faint recollections of living in hilly towns with snow-capped mountains.
Then came 1962 and the war with China. My father was posted in NEFA, Arunachal. All family stations were closed and my mother along with two kids returned to Mumbai. She found living in Mumbai very tough as already the tenement had too many people living there. Probably she found a more or less similar situation with her parents.
Then disaster struck. My father was shot in his leg and was hospitalised. Nobody knew where he was or how he was. Luckily, mother was getting his salary paid.
She then accidentally found out about the tenement in Panase Wada in Pen. Apparently some of our relatives lived there earlier. She consulted the elders and decided to move to Pen. I was put back in school there and life returned to normal.
My father spent a long time in army hospitals, but was finally discharged. Meanwhile they had to amputate his leg. I am very proud of my father because he never gave up. He applied for rehabilitation by the army and was sent to the Artificial Limb Centre in Pune, where he was given a wooden leg and was trained to use it so that he did not have to use the crutches all the time.
After his retirement he came to Mumbai and found a place to live near Mumbai airport through his contacts in the army.
He then called mother and us kids to Mumbai. For me, those joyful days of Pen were over and new adjustments, new friends came into my life."
Kshipra exclaimed, "Oh! Now I know where you suddenly disappeared. Srini was the first to go and then you. Life had become very lonely for me at that time."
After shifting to Mumbai our life became almost normal, like any other Mumbaikar’s. I completed school, two years of college, and easily managed to get into VJTI for a degree in Mechanical Engineering. After that I did a few small jobs before a job from a very big company came to me. The only problem was that the job was in Jamshedpur.
My father immediately gave me the green signal. Mother also had no problems. So I joined this company in Jamshedpur. I lived in a hostel kind of accommodation, ate in a mess, and was quite happy with my work. After about two years my mother started pestering me about getting married. After initial hesitation I said okay. My mother took this task upon herself and started sending photographs of some girls she had liked. Vedika was one among them.
During my next trip to Mumbai, I met a few of them. Somehow I liked Vedika. Her family was from Pune. Again a typical middle class Marathi girl. BA Arts. She had no ambition of any career and would be happy as a housewife. So finally I said yes. We were married the following summer. I rented a small cottage in Jamshedpur and we moved in. The next few years were pure marital bliss. My daughters were also born over the next six years.
Vedika was almost a perfect wife. She would do anything with full concentration and love. No half-hearted attempts.
In spite of all this, I had noticed a funny kind of trait in her. Vedika had an elder sister about 2 years older. Vedika, her sister, and her mother were very close to each other. They had formed a tight group where no one else was allowed. They used each other's dresses, jewellery, footwear as if these were owned commonly. If I bought something for Vedika, I would see her sister or mother wearing it. I did not like this and we fought on this issue a number of times. Normally I suppose husband-wife pairs have their own little secrets. Vedika and her sister and mother had this kind of secrets. They would whisper, giggle about them, making me very irritable.
Vedika at both times went for delivery to Pune. At the time of our younger daughter, I was keen that she would go to Mumbai. My mother also wanted it. Vedika flatly refused.
Around the time my younger daughter was born I found that my father-in-law’s financial condition was not what it should have been. So Vedika suggested that I should send some money to him under some pretext. I agreed. I found it kind of funny that the guy never even acknowledged it.
I also found that he hit the bottle regularly. I warned Vedika about it but she showed no response. Many times I think that the close group Vedika, her sister, and mother had formed because of his habit.
Anyway, things continued like this until on one day my little world collapsed.”
"I think I shall stop here today. Things have become painful for me even to remember. It is also time now for my siesta," said Sripad.
"Yes, Shri," Srini agreed. Kshipra already looked lost. So the Three S-es dispersed into their private worlds. We three became quiet again.
(To be continued in chapter 5)
(All characters places except for geographical names events actions of people are fictional. Any similarity found is purely accidental. All images AI generated)