BLACK MOTHS OR MOUSTACHES

Gauri was the only girl child to her parents and was blind when she was born. After 12 long and happy years of childhood, she gained sight one day. In her words, it was “the mysterious event,” but it was every bit as usual as her story goes. Irrespective of her inability to see, Gauri had a childhood of a million colors. She had two elder brothers who loved her unconditionally, but there was always a physical barrier between them. Their realities felt so different, though they had a similar childhood. The brothers were in a separate world of their imaginations, along with toy cars, bikes, and guns. That was a place where Gauri had no importance, still, she could be seen stumbling behind her brothers. For Gauri, the world was what she imagined. The disparity in their world did not bother her, as her inability to see also made her not see those differences. 

The world that she imagined was a beautiful and happy one. It had everyone and everything she dearly loved: her parents, her brothers, her home, and Peechi. Peechi was a small black cat that grew up along with her and always had the sour smell of fresh milk in her whiskers. She followed Gauri everywhere. Years later, she will remember Peechi with a sweet, melancholic smile, realizing she was her first and true best friend.

Growing up, Gauri was a curious kid with an energy that matched her enthusiasm, visible in her brightly lit face. When she was able to crawl, she crawled wherever her knees and hands could take her. When she was able to walk, her tiny feet carried her to places that she imagined. She bumped into walls, the foot of a chair, her mother’s bum when she leaned forward and swept the floor, and her father’s hairy legs when he waited impatiently for breakfast. She steps on her brother’s toy cars and Peechi’s milk pot. She bumped her head in possibly every corner of the house. But she was like her brothers’ remote-control car - all you have to do is turn its direction away from the wall, and it moves away from that obstacle - like that, Gauri needed assistance to change direction when she bumped herself into something, though it never stopped her from venturing into her visionless world. She happily toddles away to bump into some other object. The only restriction she had from exploring too much was her mother’s care, which stopped her from tumbling over a bucket once, and stopped her from going near the stove another time.

Through experiences and her enthusiasm, which made her understand the whole dynamics of her house, Gauri learned to walk and sometimes even run without anyone’s help. By now, she knew where to go and where not to go. She knew exactly where everything was, even if the chair was moved an inch, she could hear it and knew exactly how to avoid it when she chased Peechi around the house. She was a naughty one, too, who knew precisely when to rely on her blindness to save her from trouble, like that one time when she broke a vase that was a gift from her father's friend.

Her parents noted that among their 3 children, Gauri was the happiest. But that changed on a Sunday morning, 12 years after her birth. After that particular day, 3 major things happened that are worth mentioning. She gained her vision; she began to see more than what was supposed to be seen, and she had her first period. Of these 3 events, it is not sure which made Gauri call it “the mysterious event”, but it is evident that because of these three events, her life changed.

It was a normal Sunday morning.  Gauri woke up to the usual sounds she was used to and went straight to the bathroom. While she was brushing her teeth, she felt something crawling down from the inside of her left leg. She pulled her skirt and looked down. The first thing she ever saw was a line of blood; thick and hot blood that flowed down towards her inner knee. Gauri’s scream startled the sleeping owls; it rattled the roots of the Gul Mohar tree. “Amma, am I dying?” cried Gauri. Her mother rushed into the bathroom to find Gauri crying inconsolably and saw the blood flowing down towards her knee. A sense of relief was visible in the mother’s eyes. Gauri stood there with tears in her eyes, confused as to why her mother was not panicking, seeing this strange event, that confusion escalated quickly as she realized with wide-open eyes that she could see her mother. Through her eyes, for the very first time. Gauri couldn’t process anything. Her mother consoled her by explaining everything about why she was not going to die and the blood that she felt meant that she was not a girl anymore, but a woman. But her mother couldn’t find words when Gauri said that she could see everything. When she tried to speak, only a whiff of air escaped from her agape mouth. The miracle that was being witnessed was something incomprehensible for even her father, who has his own opinion on absolutely everything. Before her family could figure out what was happening, Gauri became the talk of the town. The news of the girl who was born blind and suddenly gained her vision in her first period spread like wildfire. The following day, she even appeared in the local newspaper. Doctors and sages voluntarily came to check on her, believing that their field of study could provide answers for any miracle. But both science and spirituality had to accept their defeat in this case.

A few days went by quickly, with relatives and neighbors visiting and providing their insights. Eventually the chaos that was in the beginning slowly died out because no possible reason could explain these incidents. The number of people who came to their house to share their theories dwindled. People tend to forget as fast as their initial surge of excitement. Amidst all this, nobody noticed the changes in Gauri, even her mother, who was very busy lately, to treat their guests with tea and snacks. One day, her mother grabbed both of her arms, made her sit down, and began to talk with a tone the girl had never heard before. She said, “Now that you have become a younger woman, you are not supposed to run around the house with your brothers like you used to.” But she stopped running not because of her mother’s advice, but because she felt so alienated in a world that she could not perceive yet. The sudden changes in her world were too much for a child her age to bear. The girl who was once energetic and full of life is now drained of energy, trying to adjust to the place around her. She was so used to walking around her house when she was blind, but when she gained her vision, it was quite difficult for her. She stopped playing with Peechi, who felt neglected in all of this commotion.

Even though the third major event happened on the same day as her first period and her first vision, Gauri realized it only a few days later. She was able to see more than what was supposed to be seen.

*

Among the people who came to her house to offer different theories, her father’s friend also came one day. He was the man who gave her parents the vase, which she had broken when she was much younger. He used to come to visit them once in a while, and Gauri would recognize him by the smell of cigarettes. He always wore a white kurta and white pants, which were clean and neatly ironed all the time. He had a thick mustache and a clean-shaven chin, which Gauri saw on his visit that day. Her father and the man always talked loudly in the hall, discussing various things ranging from politics to sports, from their line of work to the weather conditions. That day, they were discussing Gauri and the events that had been unfounded recently.

There was a small mirror in the hall, which was small enough to fit only the face of the person. It had a red border as its frame that formed an arc on top of the mirror.  Recently, Gauri found interest in viewing her face in that mirror. She observed that she had a nice round face, and the color of her skin was brown like chocolate. She found solace in the mirror as she made herself look beautiful. As if that mirror and her face were the first point of contact for her to interact in this new world that she is trying to adjust to.  She applied bhindi and combed her hair whenever she felt like doing so. When she was blind, all this was done by her mother, and all the effort that her mother put into making her beautiful would become a mess in no time. But this time she took care not to look like a mess, but beautiful. Every time she passed the hall, she would take a glance at herself, tuck the hair behind her earlobes, or adjust the bhindi, sometimes just giving a smile, and she would go.

That day, when the man was talking with her father in the hall, she passed the room with a swift look into the mirror. She stopped for a moment to adjust her hair, and what she saw behind her in the mirror made her stand frozen. At first, she only thought that she saw something, but upon a slight tilt of her head to the right, she saw the man. Sitting on the sofa leisurely, not minding her fearful eyes upon him, through the mirror. She focused her gaze on his face with intensity, and she saw a line of blood that was flowing from his right temple. Fear erupted from within her when she realized that the straight line of blood had a striking resemblance to the blood that she had seen a few days before, which flowed through the inside of her leg, the first thing she ever saw with her eyes.

Gauri swiftly turned her face to see the man and saw nothing but a perfect face with a thick mustache and a clean-shaven chin. No blood was visible. She stared at him with confusion for a few awkward seconds. “What’s wrong, dear?” It was her father who broke her spell.  She said nothing and left the hall. But came back later when they continued with their conversation and stood in front of the mirror once more. And she was quite sure that his face had the same blood that she had seen for the first time; it looked like it had the same thickness, the color was the same, and the way it trickled down was the same, slowly. But when she looked at his face directly, there was no blood.

All the blood in her veins rushed to her face with utter fear.

She hurried to the kitchen and found her mother hastily preparing tea and snacks for that man. She pulled her mother to the corner of the kitchen and told her what she saw. Her mother gave her a smack on her head, told her to stop talking nonsense, and asked Gauri to set the plates for the snacks. Gauri felt devastated; she knew her mother did not do that intentionally, and she knew how much this arrival of guests was taking a toll on her mother. Still, the fear and scolding from her mother shocked her to the core. She even questioned herself, as if seeing the blood on his face was her fault. She set the plate for snacks with small tears that welled up in the corner of her eyes. Her hands trembled with fear when she arranged the snacks on the table.

 

*

 

A dream.

A dream that starts pleasantly, hiding the nightmare that is about to come.

You are in your bed, aware of your surroundings—your bed, your quilt, your home.

The morning sunlight that shines through your window, you know that sunlight; you have been waking up to it your whole life. You dream of its warmth.

You know that window, you watched the Gul Mohar flower bloom every summer of your childhood through that.

You dream about all these things, you feel pleasant, you feel that even heaven is not home, and you feel that there is no better place for you to belong.

Peechi slowly comes to the foot of the bed, climbs up to you, and rubs its back against your quilt, you doubt whether Peechi is also aware that she is in your dream, a pleasant dream, though both of you are unaware of the nightmare that is hiding behind the clouds, lurking beneath the roots of the Gul mohar tree, waiting to come out from underneath your bed.

Peechi climbs onto you, and cuddles by your neck, you think you can feel the weight of her body, you think you can smell the odor of milk mixed with sweetness and sour that comes from Peechi, but you know that you feel her whiskers rubbing on your cheek. You felt that touch, now you wonder whether you are dreaming.

You try to move your hand to pick her up from your chest, but to no avail, you can't move an inch.

Sunlight fades to show the darkest clouds; you hear the roots of Gul Mohar clawing their way upward to the ground. You feel that your pleasant dream is no longer the way it was; you can feel the fear that creeps onto you from underneath your bed.

You realize, as the weight of Peechi gradually becomes too heavy, that it was not Peechi on top of you.

Those are not cat whiskers that you felt.

It’s the moustache.

The thick black, greasy moustache.

It was not the smell of sour milk; it was the horrid smell of cigarettes. The odor is so strong that you feel it suffocates the breath inside you. It looks for ways to go out, but it can’t find a way. That breath creates a knot inside you, and it stays there.

The moustache digs its sharp claws deep into your skin and drags its way to your cheeks and neck. The pain that you felt was real. You are confused whether you are awake or sleeping, you try to scream, but that knot inside blocks your throat.

The more you try to beat your legs to wake up, the deeper the moustache digs. The more you try to scream, the stench intensifies, making that knot in your throat bigger.

But you will find a way to wake up. No dreams or nightmares last longer than your capacity to carry them. It will end eventually, you will wake up kicking the quilt, screaming at the top of your lungs, and you will call out your Amma. You will try to find that sense of belonging you felt at the beginning of your dream in your Amma’s hug.

And a nightmare ends, for it to be continued later.

*

The mirror reflected the true intentions of the men around her. If she saw a man’s reflection in the mirror and a line of blood could be seen on the right side of his face, she knew that he had the intention to cause harm to her. The harm could take any form, like the time when her father's friend took the opportunity when no one was at home, and tried to grope her with his rough hands and mustache that felt like a black moth. Or it could be just a stare that she feels upon her when she crosses the street to her home.

As she grew up, she had to carry that small piece of mirror wherever she went. She could be standing on the bus with one hand on the rail to balance herself, and on the other hand, she held the mirror to see if the man standing behind her had that line of blood on his face. She could be in a theatre watching a movie, but her eyes also searched in the dark, whether the person sitting next to her had any intention to harm her. While she is traveling on a train, she has to check all the men through her mirror so she can sleep comfortably through the night.  Of course, not every man had that blood flowing from their right temple, but her experience with the people who had that blood caused her to question everyone’s intentions. Like a muscle memory that kicks in, she withdrew her mirror every time and glanced at it. With the same fear that she felt the very first time when she saw that line of blood that trickled down through the inside of her legs.

 

THE END.