Ever since we were kids, we knew that we had complete access to Bebe (Mother, in Punjabi. Pronounced, ‘bay-bay’) and everything she owned, except a particular Batua (purse).
Bebe had been a cool Mother, a very friendly mother-in-law, and a fun and genial Grandmother. She never lost her cool and nothing managed to perturb her. Even when Bauji (Father, in Punjabi) passed away she cried yes, buckets and buckets of tears. She even lost weight as she stopped eating. However, she was soon back to her old self.
Pritam was an extension of Bebe.
Pritam’s mother, Susheela, was sent with Bebe to her Sasural (marital home) as part of her trousseau. Unsure of what part Susheela should play in her life, the then newlywed and always terrified Bebe decided that Susheela would become the most important part of it. So Susheela became a friend, confidante, sister, everything rolled into one.
Bebe’s Sasural was beautiful and had all the luxuries you could think of (the carpets were so thick that I imagined I would sink into them someday, Pritam was known to repeat) but Bebe being the youngest there every other member of the family decided that they had to interfere in everything she did and give advice at every opportunity. What to eat, what to wear, how to laugh, how to walk, everything was discussed and commented upon. She hated that.
While Bebe was fun-loving and carefree, Bauji was very serious. 14 years older than her, he treated his 13-year-old bride like he would a child.
Pritam had not even turned a year old when Susheela had left him behind with her parents to come along with Bebe. After 3 years of marriage when Bebe conceived her first child, she realized how tough it must have been for Susheela to live without Pritam and, after consulting each family member and taking their consent, she sent for him.
A search party was sent to the village, a filthy Pritam was located, washed, adorned with new clothes, and sent to Bebe’s haveli. Susheela’s joy knew no bounds and seeing her happy Bebe decided she would never let mother and son part.
In due course, Bebe has multiple children of her own, despite which she was still treated like the youngest member of the family. Bauji got close enough to give her many children but never close enough to give her the support, love, and attention she needed. As she grew older she was more and more thankful for Susheela and little Pritam, the only two people she considered her own.
Bebe was there for us whenever we needed her, celebrating every milestone and victory and wiping away tears of defeat. However, as soon as she crossed the threshold of the house she went back to being the youngest Bahu (daughter-in-law) of the household, politely nodding at unasked for advice, making a note of instructions she did not ask for, and later being a shoulder for everyone to lean on.
Only after I grew up and got married did I realize how it must have been for my mother, but Bebe had never complained. She had what everyone began to call a ‘Monalisa Smile’ on her face as she went about fulfilling expectations and never sharing her own.
Bebe outlived everyone, even her beloved Susheela. When Bebe passed away and the ceremonies were done, I decided to clean her room. Everything reminded me of my mother. That carelessly flung dupatta still held her fragrance. Her worn-out slippers looked forlorn by the bed. I slid open her bedside drawer and ran my fingers on the carved box that held her prayer beads. As tears misted my eyes, thinking of her using those beads with that beatific smile on her face, my hand touched something soft.
It was her prized Batua.
I instinctively pulled my hand back, reminding myself that we weren’t allowed to touch it. But my Bebe was no more, my rational mind reminded me.
I pulled out the Batua from the drawer, its once rich maroon velvet now worn out. The gold edging and the drawstring were faded and frayed. I was surprised at how light it was and gingerly pulled the cord on either side open to see what it held. My fingers found a few dried leaves and nothing else. Puzzled, I turned it upside down and shook it hard. More dried leaves.
‘Woah!’ my son’s voice jolted me out of my reverie. ‘Where did you get this, Mom?’ he questioned, not taking his eyes off the dried leaves.
‘What leaves are they?’ I asked him.
‘Marijuana! Super high-quality stuff!’ he exclaimed touching the leaves like they were precious.
Pritam confessed only after much prodding and ultimatums that his mother, Susheela, had introduced these magical leaves to Bebe. After Bebe delivered her 1st child and couldn’t bear to look at him or feed him. Bebe cried all day, locked away in the birthing room for 40 days with only Susheela for company. Susheela procured the leaves and introduced a ‘joint’ to Bebe. Just a few puffs every other day put that beatific smile on her face, helping her cope with life.
Yes, we weren’t allowed to touch the Batua as it held what Bebe called her ‘Shanti’.
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon.
My theme for the same is Navras – The Nine Emotions of Life. I am writing Fiction for this theme.
This story is written for Shanti which means Peace.
Read my story for Karuna here
Read my story for Hasya here
Read my story for Bibhatsa here
Read my story for Adbhut here
Read my story for Bhayanaka here
Read my story for Shringara here
Read my story for Veera here
Read my story for Rudra here
I don’t know how you intended readers to respond but I find this story a tragicomedy. I want to laugh at the contents of the batua but I’m sad at what it takes to survive in the marital home.
The hope was for the readers to respond exactly like you did, Satabdi. Thanks for reading.
Super beggining unexpected ending.. brilliant
Thank you, Samreedhi.
i have been reading all your blogs under Navras, and i have been wanting to read more of those short stories. Looking forward to more
Thanks so much for reading, Parth.
We all have our coping mechanisms, don’t we. Though I’m glad Bebe found her little heaven in the 2 people and her batua 🙂
Thank you, Suchita.
Wow, what a great end of the story. I was so curious to know what was inside that batua, and what it came out! Loved the story, the message and your brilliant weaving style. Hat’s off to you, Mayuri.
Glad you enjoyed reading it, Swarnali.
Till the end I was thinking there must be something which will make me laugh when that batua will be open…Loved the story !
Thank you, Ruchi.
wow Mayuri..’buckets and buckets of tears, Monalisa smile, carelessly flung dupatta’ – your word usage and how you created a scene in front of me..throughly enjoyed it. Don’t know why but when I read the word the batua, I felt that it must be a red velvet.
Iam sorry….but I cant stop smiling at Bebe & her source of Shanti
I really liked your theme for Blogchatter half marathan. this story and characterization with so amazing. and ending has made me surprised. yes, many old people have that kind of habit that help them in keep going and reducing stress of life.
I loved your weave Mayuri. I gauged the pain of bebe in between the lines when the truth about her batua was revealed.
So beautiful story of batua and bebe can say a smile with a tears and the story was a amazing read.
You have weaved this story so well Mayuri that I felt being part of it. I agree it had bring smile and tears both at the same time.
For me, this story has many facets in itself. The loveless married lives of most women in India and the postpartum depression, the Marijuana and more.
Woooh! What a great end to the story. Your writing style made me super curious to find-out what was actually there in the batua; and what did it turn out.
Oh God, for a moment I imagined all those Dadis from movies who unabashedly resort to a glass of whiskey. Bebe too needed that release, I guess. We all have secrets that only reveal themselves after we’re gone.
This story garners so much interest. It is comical, yet how subtly it tells the story of thousands of other bebes and their little treasure of joys!
What an amazing storyteller you areBrilliant piece of writing, Mayuri. The word Bebe itself has so much love in it; that anyone can sense the attachment with that person. I was almost teary eyes the moment when Bebe realized the pain of Susheela and Pritam.
The ‘shanti’ remedy which Bebe chose (or rather advised) was so common in those days, I have heard many such stories of afeem too. Nice narration, Mayuri.
This is a very interesting story. Riveting to the end, gripping the readers’ attention. The end too gives a twist to the tale and makes it all the more interesting.
I loved your writing way, I have read the story of veera too. I must say you are blessed with good story writing skills. . This story of bebe and batua have a mixed feeling
Reading this piece is like witnessing every moment that Bebe has gone through in his sasural. The mystery of batua is the icing on the cake. Thought provoking and heartfelt read.
Wow Mayuri you are an excellent writer and so so loved reading Bebe Ka batua. I had various things in mind when I had seen this post on social media but now when I have read the post I feel so happy after reading about Bebe, her batua the joint she was introduced early on and so much more.
The blog of yours under Navras is just wow. I love the entire concept and each article is unique i feel. this one is the bet among all. Looking forward to more
This story had an edgy humor to it. I really like dark comedies and it takes great talent to write one. Brilliant Mayuri!