The Routine

We shifted to Jamunagar soon after our wedding day. The in-law's place had only two bedrooms, and there were six of us. Thankfully, Arun explained the situation to his parents and we moved out within a few weeks.

Our new home was beautiful. It was on the last floor of a three-storey apartment building. Our society had six such buildings with a small park in the middle of it all.

Every morning, men and women walked in that park. Older people came at around 5:30 - 6 and young parents walked around after 7:30, when the school buses had just left. Even after 9, grand-parents would sit around laughing and discussing politics.

I watched them all from my bedroom window. I had given my own names to the ladies - The jeans wali madam, the saree-clad didi, the specs wali woman, and the round bindi aunty. Of all the people I saw in the mornings, it was the round bindi aunty whom I found most fascinating.

She came at exact 8:45 a.m. every single day. I knew because that is the time Arun left for work and I use to get free from the house-hold chores. That was my time to breathe after a hectic morning. I use to sit by the window with my cup of tea and stare at her endlessly.

It seemed to me that she use to go elsewhere for her walk because at that time she only sat on the pavement bench looking constantly at the society gate. It was her favorite spot and nobody dared to sit there. Ever.

I loved the way she dressed up so early in the morning. Her red saree, which was sort of a uniform, was always neatly draped. She wore a thin gold chain in her neck. The round bindi on her forehead was almost the size of a 50-paisa coin. I just loved the fact that it was at the exact same place everyday - just like her.

It was our first Sunday in this new house when the doorbell rang quite early in the morning. The guard asked us to join the members of the soceity for a special ceremony that they were having for an elderly resident who had lost his family recently. Aparently, his son died in a car accident and his wife could not take the trauma. It was a sad time for him and the soceity wanted to show full support.

As I was getting ready, I saw the round bindi aunty sitting on her spot. I called Arun to tell him her routine. From our window, I discreetly pointed out the lady to him so that no one in the society would see me.

Even after much explanation, he could not place her. I later realised that the round bindi aunty was still waiting for her son and I was her only witness.