Read Online Tales From Firozsha Baag by Rohinton Mistry - Free Book Online Page A

Spreading out the
saterunjee
, I saw a tear in the white bedsheet used for covering – maybe from all pulling and pushing with the ghost – and was going to repair it next morning. I put off the light and lay down just to rest.
    Then cockroach sounds started. I lay quietly in the dark, first to decide where it was. If you put a light on they stop singing and then you don’t know where to look. So I listened carefully. It was coming fromthe gas stove table. I put on the light now and took my
chappal
. There were two of them, sitting next to cylinder. I lifted my
chappal
, very slowly and quietly, then phut! phut! Must say I am expert at cockroach-killing. The poison which
seth
puts out is really not doing much good, my
chappal
is much better.
    I picked up the two dead ones and threw them outside, in Baag’s backyard. Two cockroaches would make nice little snack for some rat in the yard, I thought. Then I lay down again after switching off light.
    Clock in
bai-seth’s
room went twelve times. They would all be giving kiss now and saying Happy New Year. When I was little in Panjim, my parents, before all the money went, always gave a party on New Year’s Eve. I lay on my bedding, thinking of those days. It is so strange that so much of your life you can remember if you think quietly in the darkness.
    Must not forget rice on stove. With rice, especially Basmati, one minute more or one minute less, one spoon extra water or less water, and it will spoil, it will not he light and every grain separate
.
    So there I was in the darkness remembering my father and mother, Panjim and Cajetan, nice beaches and boats. Suddenly it was very sad, so I got up and put a light on. In
bai-seth’s
room their clock said two o’clock. I wished they would come home soon. I checked children’s room, they were sleeping.
    Back to my passage I went, and started mending the torn sheet. Sewing, thinking about my mother, how hard she used to work, how she would repair clothes for my brothers and sisters. Not only sewing to mend but also to alter. When my big brother’s pants would not fit, she would open out the waist and undo trouser cuffs to make longer legs. Then when he grew so big that even with alterations it did not fit, she sewed same pants again, making a smaller waist, shorter legs, so little brother could wear. How much work my mother did, sometimes even helping my father outside in the small field, especially if he was visiting a
taverna
the night before.
    But sewing and remembering brought me more sadness. I put away the needle and thread and went outside by the stairs. There is a little balcony there. It was so nice and dark and quiet, I just stood there. Then it became a little chilly. I wondered if the ghost wascoming again. My father used to say that whenever a ghost is around it feels chilly, it is a sign. He said he always did in the field when the
bhoot
came to the well.
    There was no ghost or anything so I must be chilly, I thought, because it is so early morning. I went in and brought my white bedsheet. Shivering a little, I put it over my head, covering up my ears. There was a full moon, and it looked so good. In Panjim sometimes we used to go to the beach at night when there was a full moon, and father would tell us about when he was little, and the old days when Portuguese ruled Goa, and about grandfather who had been to Portugal in a big ship.
    Then I saw
bai-seth’s
car come in the compound. I leaned over the balcony, thinking to wave if they looked up, let them know I had not gone to sleep. Then I thought, no, it is better if I go in quietly before they see me, or
bai
might get angry and say, what are you doing outside in middle of night, leaving children alone inside. But she looked up suddenly. I thought, O my Jesus, she has already seen me.
    And then she screamed. I’m telling you, she screamed so loudly I almost fell down faint. It was not angry screaming, it was frightened screaming,
bhoot! bhoot!
and I understood.