the one behind the curtains

There are a lot of people whom you meet, whom you were close, but whom you never miss. But when I look back as to what they meant to me once, i dont think i'l ever meet someone like them.

There was this lady at dad's house whom we shall call A. She was a distant relative who came to our house long years ago when my dad's aunt was pregnant with her second child. The first one was still young and needed attention; the uncle guy was a doctor, and had to leave home early; aunt was too weak to clean the house and wash the cloths. It was here that A came into the picture. She took care of the first child and the pregnant mom, cooked food, washed cloths, cleaned house and did everything single-handedly.

In short, despite being our relative, she was more of a maid for all.

As the aunt was also working, A's work became a permanent arrangement at the house. When me and my brother came to the picture, she was about 50 years old, with a son, a moron and an alcoholic, and a daughter, a part-time prostitute. She liked me a lot. Whenever I go to my dad's native, she takes me around and tells everyone ``look at my grandson''. she was very proud of us who, in her terms, were the smart boys whom others should look up to.

But her life at the house was pretty bad. Familiarity breeds familiarity at least, if not contempt. she was never allowed to come to the main part of the house. her existence for many was only as a cook and a servant.

whenever i go there, after the customary hi to other relatives, i go to the back, to the kitchen or cattle shed, which are the only two places one can find her. she will receive me with a hug and tears. tears of joy and also pride that i meet her even before i meet my grandmother.

slowly, as i came out of the place to this metropolis, old memories gave way to the hustle of the city. but once when i went home, i went to my dad's place and met her. her face was contorted. i knew there was something wrong but then she had a lot of problem with her alcoholic son, who does no work other than beating up his wife, and her prostitute daughter which brought her disgrace. I naturally thought it was one of those reasons why she looked in a bad shape.

about two days later, i got a call from my mother, saying the good old lady died a painful death due to cancer. mom said A badly wanted to see me before dying, but all others told her i have to travel a lot. heard she wept because she couldn't see me..