"The Man at the Window"

Poppy was enjoying work. Amy was enjoying school. Mary was enjoying the doting. Baby number two was growing healthy. The sun was shining bright on this beautiful family. They lived in their own bubble, small and warm, full of love. Every evening, Amy and Poppy would wait at the bus stop for Mary to come home. Oh, the smiles when they would spot her in the crowd!! They would buy some “ pakodas ” and “ jalebis ” and would happily chat on the walk back home. Mary would freshen up while poppy would make her a cup of tea and give Amy her glass of milk. Yes, she was a big girl now, even though she would sneak in a few breast feeding sessions from her mommy darling, Mary, who couldn’t get her off the habit. “Tasty” she would say and ask for her share ensuring there was enough for the baby. It was funny and full of affection. The maid would cook the dinner while Amy did her homework and Mary and Poppy caught up on the activities of the day. Dinner was in front of the TV as everyone wou...

Mary loved Poppy more than her heart could hold and it was this love which made her forgive and overlook all his shortcomings. Poppy acknowledged his mistakes and promised that he would never put them through anything like that again. Now, Poppy would still go the club now and again because he was an avid snooker fan, however he would come home early and spend time with “his girls”. Life went on and before they knew it, Amy was three years old and ready to go to school. She was to join the same school where Poppy taught. So, they decided to move to a house closer to the school. It was a very emotional move, because now Amy wouldn’t see her grandparents ever day and they were surely going to miss her singing and mischief making ways. Amy took a lot of time getting used to the new place and school. Thankfully the nanny had stayed on with them and thankfully, that was one less thing she had to adjust to. Getting Amy ready for school was a task. She would scream, cry and bring the r...

Amy was a beautiful little girl. Her pink cheeks and toothless smile made her parents the happiest ever. Poppy and Mary were on cloud nine. Their little home was always filled with people who had come to see Amy. The little children from down the lane came every evening just for fifteen minutes of staring and giggling at Amy. It was a proud parent moment for Mary and Poppy. Oh! How they loved their little girl. Not before long, Mary went back to work and Amy was put in the care of her very proud and loving grandmother. Little Amy loved to hold her grandfather’s finger and stare at him with her big eyes, even though he wouldn’t always remember who she was. He would still sing and talk to her and not before long, she had started to mumble and grumble back at him in her baby language. As the months rolled by, Amy learnt to roll over, sit up, crawl and stand, time with a toddler surely went by fast. Amy was growing up at what seemed to be lightning speed for her grandparents who were ge...

My moods have been really bad lately, owing to the migraines I get. Work has been crazy too and I was wondering if I should go see Poppy today. I stroll past his house still trying to make up my mind and I see him. There he was - standing with his grand-daughter and feeding the street dogs, biscuits, flashing me the most welcoming smile. It was something I couldn’t resist. Poppy’s stories felt like home to me. I stood with them and fed the dogs too.   As Poppy settled into his chair by the window, I asked him if he had any pets growing up given he seemed to be very fond of animals. “Oh yes” he answered. They had cats, parrots, squirrels, dogs, ducks and chickens. I was very surprised because that was a long and varied list of animals. A faint image of Ol’Mac Donald came to my mind. “Wow”, I replied smiling. Poppy asked his wife to get me a cup of tea; I waited impatiently for a story to start, so I could forget about my nagging headache. Poppy and Mary were happy. Mary’s sto...

It was a beautiful Christmas and New Year for the “lovebirds”. Still reeling from the season of celebrations, Poppy and Mary settled into daily life. They took up a one bedroom house close to Mary’s family. The room had a bed, a chair and a small cupboard. There was a little kitchen attached, big enough for one person to stand and cook. The few gifts they had got would come a long way in setting up their home. Poppy just had a box of clothes, as did Mary. That night as they sat on the bed looking at their wedding pictures, they looked at each other and smiled. This was “their” home. This was their little dream. This was where their journey would begin “together”. Life, bringing with it, all the surprises one could imagine. They held hands as they feel asleep, trusting fully in each other, knowing “together” they could face the world, brave and confident. Soon, Poppy and Mary got busy with work. Mary would come back and cook, while Poppy tutored a few children in the neighborhood...

As I walk into Poppy’s house, I see a little girl sitting on the bed with the cat on her lap. She was enthusiastically petting the cat that seemed eager to get away. I walked past her to my seat near the window. She smiled at me and as if it was waiting for that moment of distraction - the cat hopped off and ran. The girl ran behind it, determined to be affectionate. Just then, Poppy came over with my cup of tea. He sat in his chair and said “That’s my granddaughter”, he said and was literally glowing with joy as he said that. I nodded and smiled. From the corner of my eyes I could see the cat was still being chased around the house. It was July when Poppy had proposed and before he knew it, it was November and he was back in Calcutta. It was a busy time for Poppy as he was giving interviews and planning his wedding. They had decided on a December wedding, adding on to the festivities of Christmas and New Year. In the first week of December, Poppy received a letter. It was from ...

I hadn’t seen Poppy for a week owing to the audit at work. So when he saw me walking down the road that evening he was pleasantly pleased, as was I. Owing to the rains the dust had settled down, there was a lovely cool breeze blowing. Poppy offered me hot aloo chops along with my tea today. The weather even made the cat lazy; it was huddled up and asleep in its basket, by the side of Poppy. Sipping on my tea, I noticed an old British style tin biscuit box on the window. Poppy saw that and opened the box. It was a box of old photographs. Poppy showed me the photos he had sent to Mary; on the back it was written “Love you forever”.   He also showed me a photograph of the two of them in Darjeeling. Poppy with his iconic Elvis side locks and Mary with her lovely long hair, both of them in their large framed goggles and bell bottom pants. The photographs were black and white but it had all the colors of love in there. They made a handsome couple. Poppy was off to the beautiful h...

I never could imagine Poppy as a romantic. Well, I guess I was in for a lot of surprises. He blushed and his eyes gleamed as he spoke about her. He spoke about her as if she was right there with him. So many questions passed through my mind but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to interrupt him. Mary finished school and immediately took up a secretarial course at the YWCA. She may have wanted to study further but had to get to work soon, to support her family. Her mother was the only earning member. Her father used to work too but of late it seemed he just wasn’t himself. Poppy described him as a wonderful man and an even better human being. Sadly though, the doctors had diagnosed him with early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Poppy recalled all the wonderful times they spent when he went to visit Mary. “It was sad to watch him losing himself”, he said. Mary finished her secretarial course and immediately started working. Poppy had finished his Senior Cambridge Exams and joined a very ...

Poppy invited me for lunch one Sunday and I happily obliged.   As I was walking to his house, I see Poppy walking out. He had just come back from church and was on his way to buy fish for the cat. I accompanied him to the market; it was entertaining to watch him bargain. Quite victorious on getting it for the price he wanted, we marched back home.   While his wife and the maid chatted away in the kitchen and prepared lunch, Poppy and I settled in with a peg of whiskey. I took a sip of my drink and watched him engrossed in his Sudoku . Even at 65, Poppy was a handsome man. I gathered courage from my whiskey and asked him how many girlfriends he had when he was younger. He put the Sudoku down and laughed heartily. “One” he answered. It was 1971 and after months of assiduous studying, it was finally time to party. Poppy had just finished his “Junior Cambridge Exams” or class ten “Boards”, as we refer to them today, and was all set to shake a leg at the “Social” organized a...

I ring the bell and as I wait for it to be opened, I hear the national anthem on the television. Poppy’s wife opens the door; I greet her and walk in. I see Poppy standing to attention looking at the television. He glares at me, as if ensuring I don’t sit or talk while the anthem is being sung. Once it was over he smiles at me and sits down. Today he was not at his usual place, the window. “The badminton is on and India is playing “he said. I nod and sit down. We watched the game and to Poppy’s satisfaction, India had won.   Poppy’s wife handed me a cup of tea, as we walked to the window. “I love watching live games” he said. Then he points at his face and shows me the scar on his eyebrow. Poppy’s father was 6.4 feet tall and had a towering personality. Needless to say he was “the” most influential person in Poppy’s life, even though he was not around as much as he would have liked. Poppy’s father used to box in his spare time and Poppy was his avid fan. He never missed a si...

It was a hectic day at work with audit season kicking in. I could really do with one of Poppy’s stories, I thought. Poppy had been unwell owning to the changing weather and untimely rain these days and I really hoped he was feeling better. With these thoughts in my mind I took the turn to Poppy’s lane and was delighted to hear him shouting out for his pet cat which had wandered off. It was story time today!! “How old were you when you started school?” Poppy questioned. “Four years” I answered. He nodded thoughtfully. Poppy was eleven years old when he finally got accepted into a missionary boarding school. Since he had never been to school he barely knew how to read or write. At eleven, he was still getting the hang of writing the alphabet and he had a long way to go especially because they has put him in class four owing to his age. He had a lot of catching up to do, a lot, being an understatement. Poppy was very eager to learn and it was this quality of his that his teachers a...

Poppy always welcomed me with a smile; quiet by nature it took some pursuing to get him to tell me his stories. As I settled in with a cup of tea, the pet cat hopped up on his lap and stared at him. She made herself comfortable almost as if she too was waiting to be transported to a different time. “It was 1962” he began, the family had moved to Calcutta. Now, given the British regime was over and their kind, not welcome, Poppy and his family faced a tough time finding a place to stay. After a lot of scouting, they found a one room house in what is called a basti in India. A basti is a slum and their house was just one roof away from being called a “shanty”, literally because it had a proper roof and not asbestos sheets like the others houses. He recalled his mother’s expression when she saw it. “Mother was brought up in a mansion, was chauffer driven around in the family Chevrolet and had butlers, maids and chaperones and to see her have to settle for a one room home was he...

On July 26, 1952, Poppy was born to an English couple, in a small town in Tamil Nadu, India. Being the youngest of seven children, you would assume he was spoilt but being a part of a large family in the post British Era of India was not as cushy as we would think. Poppy’s earliest memory was when he was five years old. His father was recently discharged from the English Army and was employed with a renowned company in the beautiful beach city of Waltair (now Visakhapatnam). They lived in a huge house opposite the beach and often his mother would take the family to visit an old German lady on an Island nearby, by ferry. “She was a queer old lady” he said, “Well, the word “queer” had a different connotation back then”, he added smiling. She lived in a mansion with only two German shepherd dogs for company. Poppy loved going to see the old lady. She would bake fresh German bread and cakes for them and then there was also the occasional British bread pudding, but more than the spre...

Hundreds had gathered to pay their respects on that cold winter evening, yet, “His “grave looked like a spring time garden in full bloom.   My eyes were full of tears and I smiled looking around me. “He” would be happy to know that he was remembered fondly and respected by many even though this moment was too late. His words rang in my ears, “Roses when I am alive, not on my grave” he would say. Alas, “the man at the window “had died. I still remember the first time I saw him, sitting at the window and watching the children play. I noticed him every day after that, that window - his eye to the world. Days and nights would pass, the neighbourhood changed, traffic would come and go, children would grow up and yet the man at the window remained, smiling that beautiful toothless smile on the world. His wrinkles spoke volumes about the ebb and flow of life, his eyes though sometimes distant, sparkled like a dimming star. And then, one day he waved at me and that was the begin...