“What is she doing here?” Ram exclaimed in shock at the sight of the receptionist perched atop the house.
“Don’t you dare ask me about that Moodevi,” Reshma retorted, nudging the gate open with the front of her scooter and riding inside.
Vetri followed Reshma, parking his bike in the long car shed in front of the house. An old green Premier Padmini stood inside, next to the receptionist’s garlanded Luna.
Though both Vetri and Reshma rode over the kolam, Ram managed to enter without stepping on it. His gaze drifted back to the receptionist standing on the terrace.
“Paatti, start that motor!” she shouted from above.
“Yeah, I am turning on the switch,” a woman’s voice responded from inside the house.
“That’s enough. Now turn off the motor and turn on the tap.”
“Okay, done.” With that, an elderly woman pulled back the curtain of the door, stepped outside and turned on the tap in the washbasin in the sit-out area.
Brownish water flowed through the tap.
“Oh, my little sweetie pie,” Vetri called out teasingly when he saw the old lady.
Ram observed her closely. Her hair was cut short to her shoulders, resembling a little schoolgirl’s hairstyle. It was entirely white; whiter than any hair he had seen before. Black kajal accentuated her large eyes and square and black-framed spectacles enhanced her beauty. Small jhumkas dangled from her ears. Her high eyebrows, also white, looked like perfect bows. She wore an orangish-yellow saree. Ram estimated that she was at least seventy years old.
Though there was only a subtle divergence in appearance, Ram assumed that the receptionist was the old lady’s granddaughter.
“Turn on the motor, Paatti,” her voice echoed from above once more.
“Anandhi, keep it down. You’ll disturb the bees,” Paatti shouted back.
Ram looked around and noticed a sizable beehive hanging from the highest branch of the sprawling neem tree in the courtyard. The bees seemed to be rather big. He had only encountered such hefty ones near government water tanks and similar places.
“I’m exhausted. Reshma, go and start that motor,” Paatti instructed Reshma upon seeing the three of them.
“I am not lifting a finger for her,” Reshma snapped.
“Is she the sole user of water from that tank, you idiot? Isn’t your brother using it too?” Paatti shot back.
“Oh! She’s pocketing five hundred rupees every month from you for cleaning the tank. Tell her to come down to the ground floor herself if she wants to operate the motor,” Vetri interjected, siding with Reshma.
“Paatti, could you please start the motor? I’ve got plenty of other work too,” Anandhi’s voice rose again, tinged with frustration.
Paatti shot Reshma a stern look, muttered something under her breath and then swiftly retreated indoors to switch on the motor.
“Now shut it off and open that tap,” came the command from above. This happened a couple of times, after which Paatti returned to the group standing on the ground floor.
“By the way, who’s this?” Paatti enquired, eyeing Ram.
“Paatti, this is the Kerala guy from our class, the one I mentioned earlier.”
“Oh. Sriram. Your film school classmate.”
“Let me ask you something. Who are you all?” a completely confused Ram demanded, eyeing the three of them.
Paatti, Reshma and Vetri exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter, which ceased abruptly when they noticed Anandhi descending to wash her feet at the front yard tap. Ignoring everyone, she cleaned up, took her maroon towel from the clothesline and disappeared into the outdoor bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“Moodevi,” Reshma muttered once more.
‘Enough of that nonsense. Ram, sit down and I’ll get you some coffee,’ Paatti commanded, giving Reshma a sharp look before heading inside.
“Alright, spill it. What’s going on here? Why is that receptionist here? Who’s the old lady?” Ram demanded impatiently as soon as Paatti disappeared indoors.
“First, have a seat,” Reshma insisted, guiding him to a chair in the sit-out area.
“Ram, Paatti’s name is Kolanjiammal. This house belongs to her. Vetri is a paying guest here. She started renting out rooms recently. Vetri and that girl are her first tenants. That Moodevi stays in one of the rooms upstairs; this idiot is in another. As for Paatti –”
“Wait! So, that girl is also a paying guest here?”mRam interrupted, anxiety writ all over his face.
“Let me tell you the full story, Ram. Paatti doesn’t have any children. Thaathaa passed away four years ago. After his death, Paatti and this house seemed to have lost their purpose. Many people advised her to move back to her hometown in Thanjavur, but she refused. Young Paatti came to Madras with Thaathaa in the 1970s, when he got a government job here. Together, they built this house with savings from Thaathaa’s salary. Paatti is determined to spend her remaining days here, in the house where she shared so many beautiful memories with Thaathaa. She insists that when she passes away, her body should be taken to the cemetery only in Thaathaa’s old Padmini, which is why the car is still kept in good condition. Both of us have tried to convince her to let us drive it, but she refuses. Paatti has vowed to sit in the car only after her death. She doesn’t have any financial worries as she receives Thaathaa’s pension. Plus, she prefers to take care of all the cooking herself and not hire any household help. In addition, she spends her days making a variety of sweets. Initially, she used to share them with the kids in this neighbourhood, but soon local bakeries began asking her to supply to them. Many of the sweets you find in the bakeries nearby are Paatti’s original recipes. Eventually, someone suggested that she should have people around to help in case of emergencies, which is why she decided to rent out the rooms on the upper floor.
“Anandhi came here through a broker. Solely driven by the desire to make money, she grabbed the receptionist’s job at our college within a week of her arrival in the city. Knowing that Paatti had more rooms available, Anandhi went ahead and posted an ad online to rent out the room next to hers on the upper floor; her intention was to make some extra cash. Vetri, upon seeing the ad, contacted her and came here. However, she demanded a commission from each month’s rent from both Vetri and Paatti. Poor Paatti complied, but Vetri refused to pay, knowing that Paatti was already giving her a commission. Since then, she has held a grudge against him and has been trying to get rid of him. Once he’s gone, she can bring in another tenant and pocket commission from them as well, right? It’s been a year and a half since that Moodevi came here. Vetri came to Chennai from Madurai soon after, to pursue his passion for movies. Anandhi manipulates Paatti by taking her to the park, mall and beach, while subtly causing trouble for Vetri whenever she gets a chance. Thankfully, Paatti doesn’t pay much heed to her accusations against Vetri. Paatti truly loves both him and me, but Anandhi’s a fraud who will do anything for money.”
Excerpted with permission from Ram C/o Anandhi, Akhil P Dharmajan, translated from the Malayalam by Haritha CK, HarperCollins India.
