The Rented Flat
“Amma! They have a flat screen TV!”
Suraj shouted, looking out into the corridor through the peep hole.
She was resting on the sofa but grunted to show that she was listening.
Sunayana looked up from her homework.
“How do you know it’s a flat screen TV?”
“It says so, on the box that they just carried inside!”
“So? How can that mean that they have a TV at all? When we shifted here, all my books were packed in a box labeled HP Computers that we bought from the kabadiwala. We still don’t have a computer!”
The last was muttered, a refrain with her. But she understood the domestic budgetary restrictions much more than any girl of her age.
Sunayana pushed impatiently at her pen and rattled the medicine bottles on the table, one almost tipped over causing a glassy tinkle.
“Their fridge is small!” Suraj continued.
The sounds of furniture being dragged across the corridor now filtered to their living room. She had lost the count of the number of new faces that zoomed in and faded out of the six-apartment block they lived in. They were the only ones that hadn’t moved out, yet.
The others came in and went out as their fates dictated.
“Hey, there is a boy, oh………but they are carrying him in!” Suraj’s voice dropped a whole note after the pause. Both she and Sunayana now looked up. They all knew what that meant.
Silence reigned for a few moments but for the sounds next door. Then Suraj piped up again, his eyes still on the peep-hole.
‘Amma! Why do these people come here and go away so fast? Why doesn’t anyone stay back like we do?”
She looked at Sunayana to take the cue.
“Suraj! They have rented the house, da…and when ….mmmm… their purpose here is over, they go back to their homes.”
“This is not a house, it’s a flat!” Suraj announced.
“Whatever! I just meant a place to stay in while they are here, house or flat or home.” Sunayana avoided the argument.
Suraj hesitated a moment and turned round,
“Amma! Is this a rented flat too? Will we too go home sometime?”
Then they came to her one by one… all the homes she had ever had …
The sprawling Nalukettu …the mango trees…the swings…the cousins…the celebrations…the happy noises…
The later city home…huge quarters…the lawns… the parties…
The college hostel room…smoke…friends…film and cricket posters…the camaraderie…
The dinghy one room apartment they had moved into just after marriage…the initial excited then resigned hunt for the flat with the perfect view …
Then the quest for the blue skies from the balcony exchanged with white-washed hospital ceilings…
They had bought this flat near the hospital rather than being in there most of the time…
“Amma! I asked you if this is a rented flat! Will we also go home?”
Suraj was now sitting on the edge of the sofa, holding her chin with one hand and poking her ribs with his forefinger. She caught his hand and kissed it, then said softly, looking up into the innocence shrouding his eyes…
“Yes! Darling! We will!”
Suneetha is an independent journalist, bilingual translator and writer from India. She writes fiction and poetry in both English and Malayalam.
“Amma! They have a flat screen TV!”
Suraj shouted, looking out into the corridor through the peep hole.
She was resting on the sofa but grunted to show that she was listening.
Sunayana looked up from her homework.
“How do you know it’s a flat screen TV?”
“It says so, on the box that they just carried inside!”
“So? How can that mean that they have a TV at all? When we shifted here, all my books were packed in a box labeled HP Computers that we bought from the kabadiwala. We still don’t have a computer!”
The last was muttered, a refrain with her. But she understood the domestic budgetary restrictions much more than any girl of her age.
Sunayana pushed impatiently at her pen and rattled the medicine bottles on the table, one almost tipped over causing a glassy tinkle.
“Their fridge is small!” Suraj continued.
The sounds of furniture being dragged across the corridor now filtered to their living room. She had lost the count of the number of new faces that zoomed in and faded out of the six-apartment block they lived in. They were the only ones that hadn’t moved out, yet.
The others came in and went out as their fates dictated.
“Hey, there is a boy, oh………but they are carrying him in!” Suraj’s voice dropped a whole note after the pause. Both she and Sunayana now looked up. They all knew what that meant.
Silence reigned for a few moments but for the sounds next door. Then Suraj piped up again, his eyes still on the peep-hole.
‘Amma! Why do these people come here and go away so fast? Why doesn’t anyone stay back like we do?”
She looked at Sunayana to take the cue.
“Suraj! They have rented the house, da…and when ….mmmm… their purpose here is over, they go back to their homes.”
“This is not a house, it’s a flat!” Suraj announced.
“Whatever! I just meant a place to stay in while they are here, house or flat or home.” Sunayana avoided the argument.
Suraj hesitated a moment and turned round,
“Amma! Is this a rented flat too? Will we too go home sometime?”
Then they came to her one by one… all the homes she had ever had …
The sprawling Nalukettu …the mango trees…the swings…the cousins…the celebrations…the happy noises…
The later city home…huge quarters…the lawns… the parties…
The college hostel room…smoke…friends…film and cricket posters…the camaraderie…
The dinghy one room apartment they had moved into just after marriage…the initial excited then resigned hunt for the flat with the perfect view …
Then the quest for the blue skies from the balcony exchanged with white-washed hospital ceilings…
They had bought this flat near the hospital rather than being in there most of the time…
“Amma! I asked you if this is a rented flat! Will we also go home?”
Suraj was now sitting on the edge of the sofa, holding her chin with one hand and poking her ribs with his forefinger. She caught his hand and kissed it, then said softly, looking up into the innocence shrouding his eyes…
“Yes! Darling! We will!”
Suneetha is an independent journalist, bilingual translator and writer from India. She writes fiction and poetry in both English and Malayalam.
