We Three - Chapter 1

 

Three S-es

 

"My name is Kshipra. Now don't ask me, 'What Kshipra?' I know there is a river by that name near Indore. But I am not a river, okay?"

That is how Kshipra began the recording. Srini on her right and Shripad on her left, could not control their laughter. Shripad told me later he was already checking the mic levels, worried the giggles would peak the sound.

"You guys keep quiet. Don't disturb my podcast," Kshipra retorted.

"On my right is my friend Srini. She is 72, tall, fair and beautiful. We call her Mummy, the mother."

"Hey, I don't weigh 72 kilos," Srini snapped.

Kshipra grinned. "Sorry, she is 72 years old, okay? Now on my left is Shripad. He is 70 years old and very rich, as he has more money than hair on his head. He is our mechanical brain. Anything goes wrong, he fixes it. Even when Srini is in a bad mood, he can cool her down."

"We call our group the Three S-es, pronounced 'Aces', because all our names start with S."

Srini cut in. "Kshipra, you have not said anything about you?"

"Yes, of course! I am Kshipra, the most considerate, hard-working, frugal member of this group. I am 68 years young. I wear all kinds of clothes, unlike some other folks. I like movies, going out, I love cooking."

Shripad intervened. "Kshi, this is not a matrimonial ad for you. Stick to facts and tell the truth."

"Am I not telling the truth, isn't it, Srini? Only last week you praised the Sabudana Khichdi made by me, remember?"

Srini said in a conciliatory tone, "Continue your podcast."

"We have started a new experiment in Pune, India for  single seniors like us, and want to tell you about it."

"So let us begin. But before that I must tell you about my name. My name remains the same as given to me by my parents. In Maharashtrian Brahmin families, there is a custom of changing the bride's name after marriage. We have a ceremony in marriage called Griha Pravesh, where, after a specific puja, the groom writes the new given name of the bride in a dish filled with raw rice, using a golden ring. In my marriage, I threatened my husband that if he changed my name, I would change his too to some funny name. Poor guy got scared and had to agree with me."

Kshipra chuckled. Both Shripad and Srini were getting restless. Srini is frustrated and tells Shripad, "she will never get to the point."  referring to Kshipra, she quipped. 

" Hey you, if you don't do your job properly, I will take over the responsibility of being the anchor."

"Or I can take it up," Shripad offered.

"Of course not! Male voice has no sex appeal," said Srini and Kshipra in unison. Shripad just shook his head, the way he always did when he got outnumbered two to one.

"Okay, don't quarrel. I will be serious from now on." Kshipra said.

"This idea of  Three S-es,  took shape after we three met by chance in the arrival area of Mumbai airport about two years back. Srini was coming back after meeting her children and grand children. Shripad after meeting his two daughters, and me after meeting my two sons, all of them settled abroad. After we three met, we exchanged telephone numbers first. Then formed a chat group and, after much discussion, finally decided to rent this flat, stay together and start this mini senior citizen home."

"But I must tell you that when we met at Mumbai Airport, we were no strangers. All three of us were born in the town of 'Pen' in Raigad district of Maharashtra around 1960 and spent our childhood in a 'Wada'  on the 'Datar lane'. Our 'Wada' itself was known as 'Panse Wada'. It was very near the old 'Kasar lake' in the town. This was a large estate, and about 15 or 20 tenements were there, which meant, that many families, that with the estate owners, lived there on the same premises."

Kshipra paused and looked at both Srini and Shripad. Neither of them looked very pleased. Shripad was already tapping his foot, a habit he has when he is holding something back. Srini had gone very still. Kshipra knew that this usually meant that she was upset.

She however continued. "We live like a big family. Everyone helping each other. We went to the same school. Wore similar uniforms. Celebrated all occasions together and played together all the time."

Kshipra paused as Shripad got up from his seat and said, "Stop it, Kshi. I cannot bear it any longer." Srini also nodded. There was something in her eyes that Kshipra had not expected — not anger exactly, but a kind of tired truth.

"Why are we trying to colour our past in bright colours? Why are we trying to deceive ourselves? Why are we spreading lies? This podcast idea is no good. Meeting at the airport, that is true. But probably except in your case, all that stuff about having happy family members abroad is nonsense. You know that, Kshi.  I cannot continue this any longer."

"Okay, I will stop if that is what you feel." She sat down. The room went quiet now except for the hum of the old ceiling fan. Shripad removed the microphone from the makeshift stand, rolled the wire carefully, the way he always does with tools, and kept it back in the case. Srini did not move. She actually  wanted to cry, but did not.

After a while Shripad said, "Kshi, this idea of yours about the podcast is only opening old wounds, which we want to forget. I think we should give it up. We should go back to our childhood days, share our memories, our pains and joys only among ourselves. Why present them to outsiders as lies?" He was not angry, Srini noticed. His voice was the same, one he used when a machine refused to start — patient, but firm.

Srini added, "Exactly. That is what I feel too. I don't understand why we should name Jaswant's kids from his earlier marriage as mine, even after Jaswant is gone. Why should we call Shripad's family a happy family, with what has happened before? Kshi, your case I do not know. But is probably the best to present to others. I agree that your sons and their wives treat you nicely, take care of you, but —" She left the sentence halfway as she saw tear drops in Kshi's eyes. Srini would admit later she regretted the 'but' the moment it left her mouth.

"We should now try to forget the past, enjoy life and live like a family, though strange by conventional thinking," Shripad added. He looked at both of them the way he used to look at a broken fan he knew he could repair.

"Done," the ladies added together.

"Forget the past, live for the future, and enjoy —  that was the motto of the Three S-es." Yet, all of them knew that they could never really run away from the memories. They will come back and haunt them, torment them."

(Continued to Chapter 2)

(All characters places except for geographical names events actions of people are fictional. Any similarity found is purely accidental. All images AI generated)

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