"Is this a class or a fish market? This is the worst batch in my entire teaching experience," I heard a teacher shout at a class while I sauntered to the administrative block from the staffroom.
Come what may, scenes such as this will never change. I too grew up listening to these dialogues. I smiled at my fate for positioning me from the receiving end of those dialogues to the delivering end.
I had a free period, so I proceeded to the administration block to submit the attendance report of my class. The watch on my hand showed 10 more minutes for my next period to start when I walked out of the administration block after the submission.
I strolled to the almost empty staff room to prepare myself for the next class. I marked the problems in my textbook that are to be taught in the next period. When there were five minutes left for the bell I got up from my seat with my textbook to leave. I was at the threshold of my table when I heard the buzzing tone of my phone. It was in the vibration mode.
I rarely get calls from anyone during my school hours. I reached for the phone in my bag. It showed an unknown number. Contemplating, I answered the call.
"Hello, Ananya. I am Kalpana your former neighbour." I immediately recognised her local slang of my neighborhood. Baba and Shilpa possess a tint of this slang in their speaking, which surprisingly Amma and I don't possess.
"How are you Kalpana aunty?" I tried to gauge the reason for her phone call.
"Your mother fainted, Ananya. I am taking her to the hospital. I tried calling your father and sister, but none of them are answering the phone call." she said in an urgent tone.
I gasped in panic as the looming waves of grief passed over my heart hearing the news.
Amma has hypertension and asthma. But it was always under control.
I can feel the fear in my chest waiting to take over. It sat there like a ball propelling me towards anxiety I just don't need.
"I will call you once I reach the hospital meanwhile you call your father," she concluded the call.
I was nonplussed for a moment. And then the tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face. In a life so ordinary it was my Amma that was extraordinary, not because she has given so much to me and Shilpa, but because she was the glue that held our family together.
Collecting my senses, I called Baba forthwith, but my call went unanswered. I then called Vivek. A muffled sob escaped my mouth when the call connected.
"Hello Anu, why are you crying?" Vivek asked worriedly.
"Hello Vivek," I attempted to tell him, but more tears and hiccups interrupted my speech.
"Anu, what happened?" he probed impatiently.
"Amma... Amma fainted. Neighbour.. called. Hospital." broken sentences escaped my mouth, and that did not concern me at all.
"When?" he asked, stunned.
"Kalpana aunty, the neighbour, called a few minutes ago. I am going." I answered him in my messy state.
"I am coming too. We both will board the first bus available," he asserted.
"No Vivek, it is the first day of your office. I would call you if I can't manage without you. For now, I am leaving alone." My trembling hands rummaged for my bag.
"I will accompany you, Anu. I will try to take permission." he solicited.
"Vivek, that isn't necessary. I am leaving now," I walked towards the principal's office, clearing the tear remnants off my face.
YOU ARE READING
My Husband | ✓
RomanceOnce upon a time, men and women entered marriage with very clear policies regarding the division of labour: he would go to work and "bring home the bacon," while she would stay at home and cook, clean, and raise the children. Things aren't the same...
