This Too Shall Pass

 I let out a blood curdling scream.  I was about to have my breakfast and needed a spoon. I opened the drawer containing the cutlery. My hand felt something soft and creepy instead of a metallic spoon. Quickly, I pushed the drawer back. The very touch made my hair stand on end. Images of snakes,  lizards and spiders conjured up in my mind. I had seen Nat Geo videos of snakes curling up in the most unlikely places and spiders appearing from nowhere. As for lizards, I remember the very first time it fell off the ceiling and onto my shoulder. The shudder of horror and revulsion that shook me came back to me now.  I could have opened the drawer to whet my curiosity but stood rooted to the spot. What if the ‘thing’ jumped onto me? Suddenly, I heard   mischievous laughter from behind the kitchen door.  So, it was Abhi again with one of his pranks. He came running past me, pulled open the drawer and dangled a plastic lizard in front of me. “It’s only a toy mama” he said, amusement writ large on his face. I wanted to catch hold of him and spank him but he was too fast for my aging limbs and diminishing speed.

 Six year old Abhi was the kid on the bloc whom everyone was wary of. He earned himself the sobriquet ‘Abhi the menace’. He loved to play these practical jokes on everyone.  He would hide behind trees on the road in front of our house and scare people and before they could make out who or what it was, he would disappear. One day, he put some ants into a matchbox saying they were his pets.  He would encourage his friends to put a finger into the box to guess what was inside and offer a reward to whoever could guess correctly. And when they got bitten he would double up with laughter. How could he derive pleasure from others pain or suffering? Would he become a sadist?

It was only natural then, that I kept getting letters of censure from his school too. I lived in dread of the phone ringing and complaints pouring in. When promises to rein in my errant child failed, I permitted his teachers and Principal to use whatever method they chose to discipline him. I worried myself sick about his future.

I don’t know whether they had succeeded in their efforts or my own child had turned over a new leaf because the complaints began to get few and far between.  I noticed that Abhi was spending more time with the new neighbours who had moved in a couple of weeks back. I never saw any children playing in their garden, so who was Abhi meeting or talking to? I had my own busy schedule to attend to so I let him be. As long as he was out of mischief, it was okay by me, though I still dreaded a visit from the neighbours with their endless tales of woe.

 I wasn’t unduly surprised then, when a strange lady stood outside my door and introduced herself as Mrs. Nair, our new neighbour. I apologised for not having had time to acquaint myself as I had a full time job. (the real reason of course was to stay as far away as possible from neighbours who would come in with the inevitable stories of resentment) She said she wanted to invite me to her house for tea on Saturday which was a holiday for me. “And do bring your son”, she added. O God, there we go again I thought. I tried to invent all sorts of excuses to avoid going to her house but could only acquiesce politely when she called again, reminding me of her invitation.  

   On Saturday, I was surprised when Abhi readily agreed to accompany me to our neighbour’s house. With trepidation in my heart, I walked slowly, even as I  practised a hundred ways of apologizing. “Come in, come in”, said Mrs. Nair as she welcomed us and hugged Abhi warmly. I was astonished. She led us past the comfortable looking sofas in the drawing room towards one of the bedrooms. Inside, on a bed lay a child of about the same age as Abhi . He was a little pale but had a beautiful smile. “Hello Aunty”, he said and Abhi ran to the bed to shake Karti’s (that was the child’s name it seems) hand. Mrs. Nair looked lovingly at her son and patted Abhi on his head saying, “How lucky Karti is to have a friend like Abhi. Karti was stricken with polio while he was only three and no amount of medication or physiotherapy has been of any use. Abhi has been sharing his toys and books with Karti and he loves to come here and tell Karti all his ‘school stories’.  You are so fortunate to have such a generous and thoughtful little boy.”

Did I hear right? Was this Abhi she was talking about? My heart swelled with pride. All my worries about Abhi becoming a reprobate in adult life, were blown  away like a lone cloud on a windy day. There was a human side to him after all.