Our Mindset Episode 51
When I went to tell my parents, they said, “It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose—he’s sick. Why can’t you work in the meantime?” Even when I was working myself to the bone, everyone still sympathized with him. It felt like I was the one stuck in that mess for seventy rupees a day. My whole appearance had changed because of the work I was doing. Of all people, only Balu felt any pity for me after seeing my condition. He said, “If you ever need anything from the village, just let me know. I’ll pick it up for you when I go back and forth.”
My niece’s village was about twelve kilometers from where we were staying. There was a livestock market in her village. Her husband and father-in-law were both traders and had their own tempo (truck). One day, they came across the river to buy a buffalo. We were working in the garden cutting grass when they saw us and stopped. They said, “Mangoo told us you’ve moved here, so we stopped by your house, but no one was there. We figured you’d be at the farm.” When we invited them for tea, they said, “We’ll go get the buffalo first. By the time we’re back, you’ll be done with your work, and we’ll stop by on our way out.”
All day, the goats were tied up under a babool tree. After feeding them grass and washing my hands and feet, I sat waiting. Just then, my brother-in-law called. He said, “Ever since Dada passed, you haven’t called Tatya once. You haven’t visited, and you haven’t sent money. Tatya is sick—am I supposed to take care of him alone? Isn’t he your responsibility too? We’ve been taking care of him all this time, but now Diwali is coming up. Buy him what he needs for the festival—or take him to your place for Diwali. But you want half the estate, don’t you? Then shouldn’t you take equal responsibility for him? And if you can’t handle it, then let’s divide everything during Diwali, but I want an extra half-acre. You’re going to stay there while I have to take care of Tatya, so I should get more land.” He said we’ll talk more when the groom arrives and hung up.
And just like that, a new stress was added to the list. That year, it felt like God had a whole list of problems prepared just for me—one would end, and another would be waiting.
My father-in-law wasn’t really a burden to anyone. Every morning, he’d go to a man’s house in the village to sweep. When he arrived, tea would be ready for him. After finishing work, he’d get lunch and sometimes bring leftover dinner home. Once back, he’d first fetch drinking water and then go out to collect grass for my brother-in-law’s animals. In the afternoon, he’d rest a bit and then do whatever odd jobs people needed in the village—he always got tea or food there too. He’d even hold goats for the meat seller, and in the evening, he’d bring back goat heads. He made curry with them by hand. He’d eat just one or one and a half rotis at night. That was it. He never caused any trouble. But all of this was just an excuse to claim an extra half-acre of land—to say, “I’m the one taking care of Tatya.”
They thought Dada would never come back now, and that they’d have to take care of the old man for good. So they figured they might as well get more land out of it.