The Lady Across the Street
Across the street, there is a lady who sits on a bench for the residents. The bench is located under some huge palm trees in front of an uplifted park. She never has a special expression on her face, but she observes everything that happens around her. She sits there throughout the spring, rain, and autumn. Although it is summertime now, cold winds begin to blow in the evenings.
The first time I saw her was when she was waiting near the lift. She wore a blue gown and had combed her silver pepper hair into a short plait with a rubber band at the end to prevent the hair from loosening. The plait resembled that of a school girl but she was still, her gaze fixed on the lift. She seemed to be waiting for someone. I felt she needed help and asked, ‘Shall I drop you off?
Taking out her tiny mobile phone, she smiled and said, “I have called my grandson, he will be here soon.”
“Which floor?” I asked with a smile. She resembled none of the people I knew…She told me the floor and kept waiting.
Thereafter I saw her regularly after 5 in the evening. She would take a walk around for some time and then sit on the bench in front of the park. She was always the first one to arrive. She would never feel bored nor keep looking at her mobile. She would talk to some of the ladies in Marathi when they would come and sit near her. None of them remained long, they would go for their walks, and they were good friends. When winter set in, the ladies wore their sweaters and shawl but she never had one. She wore the same blue gown but never shivered or quivered. I said, ‘It is cold, are you alright’. She nodded in response.
That evening Miriam, an elderly lady who lived alone came and sat next to her. She was feeling cold. She quickly wrapped her shawl across. The lady on the bench was wearing a pink sweater I asked Miriam, ‘Why don’t you wear a sweater?’ She smiled and said, ‘I am fine, I don’t need it’. The lady smiled and said, “Look at me; I brought three sweaters when I went to the village. I brought this sweater that I am wearing right now, a sweater that I wear while sleeping, and a jerkin with a hood and a long zipper’. I smiled watching her speak animatedly.
Miriam sighed and said, ‘ I feel hot and stuffy when I walk wearing the sweater so I have left it at home deliberately.’
The other ladies came well-dressed and all of them left for their evening walk. Miriam sat with the lady on the bench. They sat for a long watching the little kids play across. It was a solace and the evening crept away.
I saw the lady sit on the bench whenever I went out in the evening. She had the older ladies as her companions later. Most of them had lost their husbands and they empathised with each other.
A few days ago, it was a typical evening. I went back after my walk and sat on the parapet wall next to the bench where the lady sat. As she sat silently, I observed the silence. A little later she asked me in Hindi, ‘Are you alone today?
I nodded and said, ‘He is in Mumbai today, do you speak Hindi?
This made her happy…she said, ‘My husband worked for the border security force and we were posted at Dimapur, Pulwama, Odissa and numerous places. My son was born in Pulwama…
‘How nice, you have been to so many places, Said I
She continued happily saying, ‘The people there with Nepalese kind of Doctors had told me that I needed to be operated on. I never went to the hospital out of fear. I felt they could err in their surgery as operations were rare then. My son was born at home. The ladies there are healthy. They begin working as soon as they give birth.
I kept smiling and listening as she continued her story…
She said, ‘Life was difficult but I wish he had been in the State Security Force…
I felt probably she would have been happier in Maharashtra
She said, ‘The benefits of retirement would have been more, I get a low family pension…
I gazed at her wondering whether the central government paid more, but she strongly felt it was the state government.
The lady explained, ‘I have four sons. The one I am currently staying with is the third son. The oldest son lives in the village, while the second and fourth sons live in different flats, but in the same building in Shikrapur.’
She said, ‘They were living together in a flat, but there wasn’t enough space for both the families of them with their wives and children. I suggested they live separately, which came as a shock to them. However, I assured them that they would understand the benefits of this decision later. Today they care for each other; they now live together in harmony and help each other.
I said, ’You have done well, her face suddenly changed, and she said, ‘Wish my husband had seen a bit more of life.
What happened?
“He had recently retired from the border security force and we had moved to our village in Maharashtra when he suffered a heart attack. My third son, the one living here was in 5th grade at that time and the children were young. The pension we received was a small amount, and I didn’t know anything other than stitching clothes to earn a livelihood. So, I started stitching clothes to support my family and provide education to my children.”
Her voice became heavy and tears streamed down her face. I didn’t know how to comfort her.
‘You have done well, and your children have settled well, I said
She slowly said ‘I wish the pension were a little more, I get just Rs 5000…
A little boy was playing football when he suddenly kicked the ball with great force, and it ended up rolling underneath the bench where the lady was sitting. The boy came over to apologize, holding his ears in fear. But the lady kindly patted the child and leaned down to push the ball back in front of him. The boy smiled with relief and ran off to continue playing. The lady and I then walked back to the elevator.
The next day when I was leaving I saw her seated on the same bench, there wasn’t any expression as usual but I waved, I wasn’t sure whether she would wave back. She smiled and waved back…
Life doesn’t get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient― Steve Maraboli,
