The wheelchair

“What are we going to do with the wheelchair now?” Queried Wimala from her mother. Her husband was reading a book. When he heard Wimala, he raised his head to listen.

“Are you really worried?” he asked.

“I am not worried not about anything else, but about the wheelchair of our grandfather,” she said.

“Let it be there as it is. You don’t have to worry.” Utpala’s mother said.

“I am not worried amma. But can’t we do something about it?”

“Only thing is you can donate it to a needy person.” Utpala’s husband said. He does not usually join their conversations.

“You are right, son,” said mother, “we must find out someone who may need this.”

Mother remembered how her father’s death occurred. He used this wheelchair for quite a long time. She nursed him very well even before he occupied the wheelchair. Utpala’s mother remembered how her father, Utpala’s grandfather, wheeled the chair and reached the gate to watch children play. Some passers by came by and had a light talk with him.

“Are you improving now?” Some would ask.

“Yes I am. I am improving. I will leave this chair one day and walk steady, I am sure.

The grandfather was determined to stand up and walk.

“By next poya I will try to use clutches.”

That was when Utpala’s grandfather was quite normal. He had a minor dispute with a neighbour. He was getting mad.

“You must not lose your temper, father. You will fall ill with pressure and tension.”

“That man next door drives me crazy. He adds insult to injury.”

“What has he done to you, father?”

“He has dumped garbage into our garden. I told him not to do that. Then that idiot said that the devils had done it, not him. I go angry, naturally.”

“Perhaps he meant no harm.”

“I am sure he did not. He is taking revenge.”

“What for?”

“He wanted to buy a land sell his land saying this is infested by devils.”

“So what? It happened in the past, right?”

“Yes I know. We must let bygones be bygones.”

Mother awoke from the memories

“We can donate this to a house of elders,” Utpala’s husband said, heading towards the loo.

“No, let it be there. We might get a chance to give it to someone.”

When the young couple leaves, Utpala’s mother stays alone. Some elder women come to have a light talk with her. Sometimes they would listen to some sermon on radio or television. Cooking was routine for her. She enjoyed cooking for her daughter and son-in-law. They would bring provisions to her. There were days when Utpala could give a helping hand too. The house was kept clean all the time.

One woman broke a sad news.

“Remember Mr Perera? The fellow who always had a fight with your father. He had an accident yesterday.”

Utpala’s mother was listening. He remembered how her father lost temper all too often because of this Mr Perera. He was the culprit who took liberty to throw rubbish, but put the blame on a devil.

“They have taken him to the hospital. He has lost one leg.”

Utpala’s mother listened thougtfully. Several days passed. One fine morning a young lady came to see her.

“Aunty I am Mr Perera’s daugter. The eldest one. Hope you remember me.”

“Of course yes, why not?” “Aunty I am sorry for what my father had done. I need a big favour.”

“What’s that daughter?”

“You may have heard of his accident.”

A silence ensued. Utpala’s mother knew the rest. Utpala’s husband joined them. Utpala looked at her mother’s face and the face of her husband. Utpala’s mother spoke up.

“I think we got the right person. Dayani, you can have my father’s wheelchair.”