Page 34 - FunAsiA DesiPages Digital June 2020

…Continuation of
The Big Brown Bag

Fiction
By Navneeta Khemka

I kept waking up the whole time. The long 22 hours trip to India is anyways very painful, and
if you cannot sleep, it feels forever. I was tossing and turning in the tiny space where my legs
were struggling to fit in. They were pushing the seat in front of me, as if they would somehow
create room. I forced myself to catch little sleep since it would be very hectic in India. I was
getting anxious.

I was also kind of hallucinating, I think. I was seeing my grandmother everywhere. Memories
were flashing like a moving projector reel through my mind, as if they were happening right
then. Ma would wear a pristine white saree, which always looked new. She had her own
organic ways of washing and ironing them to keep them spotless. I could sense her in white
in the dark cabin of the airplane.

That morning she stepped out of the bathroom at 6:00 am. It was her regular ritual. She would
wake up at 4:00 am to take care of her skin and hair care routines, way before anyone in the
house woke up. Probably she did not want to disturb anyone’s schedule or maybe she was
private about her personal things.

I was waiting outside for her. I knew no one else would be awake at that early hour. She
looked at me and smiled, “Today what made you get up so early? Do you have an exam?” I
nodded.

“Now since you are up give me a hand to stretch my saree.”. She would wash her white
muslin saree and hang it on the tap for all the water to drip. When it was semi dry, she would
stretch it with the help of whoever was available to take out the crease with her.

I held the two corners carefully with my little hands lest I, let go off the ends. I loved the fresh
smell of the detergent, and I feared to be responsible for making the spotless saree dirty by
letting the corners go.

The secret of her immaculate white sarees was that she would always air dry them and never
iron them. Otherwise, they would leave yellow stains, she would say.

She always had her ways of teaching me little things. Like how good rubbing coconut oil
on the skin and hair was. It was the best moisturizer, she said. She would spend an hour
massaging her body and face before taking a Luke warm water bath every day. She told me
how important it was to self-care. She was a beautiful woman. Her saree and her fair skin
radiated a very serene, tranquil and pleasant persona. I was in awe of her.

The thought that I would not see her anymore brought me back to reality or was it the drinks
being served, I don’t know. But I was again feeling uncomfortable. Suddenly there was a lot
of activity in the plane. I checked the time. It was still 8 hours to go. The passenger next to me

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