Shhhh... Secrets

 Friday word: Secret

            Pearly Secrets

Plot No. 35, Karol Bagh, New Delhi-The Khurannas. 

The Great Indian Punjabi Family, a cemetry of secrets. Not all were dark but not all were worth divulging. Hence, they were yardbirds of their own secrets. 

    The ripe patriach of the family Balwant Khurrana smiled graciously pinching his bushy, grey moustache at his overtly fertile wife of 35yrs, for they knew the secret to producing seven healthy, robust progenies. Four sons and three daughters, females without hairy chins and occasional sprints on upper lips,  rarely differing from the males. 

      Jasoo Khurrana, the queen bee had secrets of fluffy baturas and creamy lassis pressed in the aromas of her kitchen. Over the time, she had found confidantes in her daughter inlaws to carry the best chole bhature secret for which the entire Karol Bagh flocked to their house. 

 

The secret ingredient in her pindi chole was the tarred tea bag of spices which gave the right colour and flavour. Though revealed to her worker bees, yet it remained in closets of their cooking and only the aromas gathered twitching nostrils. 

     Gurpreet buwa, the eledest of all daughters a sanyasi flaunted the secret of wooing men even in her late fifties. When young men causally asked her for how many years she ruled the neighborhoods of Karol Baugh, she would naughtily blush way saying, 

"Khoobsurat aurato se unki umar nahi puchte, unke raaz hi rehne dete hai!" 

And to keep the figure in wraps, her birth certificate was missing at large. Only she knew where it was hidden and what numbers on it were written! 

      Milka Chachu, the youngest of the Secret Seven was a bathroom singer. His compositions and vocal chord blarrings found way in the confines of his slippery bathroom. Only he knew why there were cracks in the tiles and why once the roof had come down passionately kissing the floor. Since, then he had stopped his bathroom riyaz and taken to the Nehru Maidan for some open air performances. 

    Everyone had their own perfectly wrapped secrets. Pushpa didi concealed her baggy dark circles with coats of compacts after crying out her recent break up. Surindra bhaiyya painted his jeep black from brown to hide the recent brawl with local goons. Even Rani the family cat hid the smelly, ratty kills in the godowns till it emited an obnoxious odour. 

     Not only this, there were barncales which stuck to the family for tit-bits of gossip. 

    But Peheli had no secrets. Absolutely none. For she was the place where Babli Khurrana wrote all her secrets. Peheli was Babli's diary. 15yr Babli found writing her heart out then pouring it infront of opportunity seekers. Her resilence came from her strong mother, Jaspreet the second widowed daughter inlaw of the Khurranas. Chandrachur had died 13yrs ago in a freak accident. Since then the mother daughter duo were glued to each other with magnetic forces. Opposites but attracted to each other. Jaspreet loved Babli like the motifs she carved on the hand woven embroideries of designer lehengas. Very delicately she placed values and morals on Babli's soul. The commotion of the joint family never overshadowed their subdued relationship. 

     Every year the ladies played secret santas to each other. Babli was attracted to the the concept of gifts placed in clean, fresh socks on eve of Christmas. The elders dismissed this as not their traddition and blamed Gurpreet for admitting Babli to St. Mary's Convent. Though not educated much, Jaspreet didn't mind the indulgence in such innocent customs. 

     This year too both the ladies were busy secretively buying gifts for each other. There were a good 10 days to their special day. But this time, Babli planned for a new sewing machine for her creative mother. Even after saving on buttas and kulfis, she was short of 500 rupees. She urged to Chachus and Chachis for that amount to be added in her piggy. Each member gave her some frivolous reason and got rid of it. She then secretly started working at Suraiya Dairy to pack the fresh paneer and fill glasses of lassis. 

"Uncleji main sirf dus din aaungi. Kam kitna bhi karvalo, last mein 500rs dena." Her deal reflected her punjabi parenting and convent literacy. 

     Religiously Babli completed her assignment of nine days. Today evening as she was filling the last glass of lassi, she saw the customer on the front bench staring at her. It was none other than Milka Chachu. He had his fill and left. Her heart fluttered as she walked home. The fireworks were already bursting and the rockets had soared the skies. Her secret had come out like  Rani jumping from the dingy corners of the godown. From behind the front door she heard  Gurpreet bua yelling, 

"All your mistake Jaspreet for having given those liberties to the girl. She will put us to shame someday like her father!" 

"Please don't drag Chandrachur in this." pleaded the distressed mother. 

"Actually the biggest mistake was to shelter this naagin here. Her mother ate up my son and now she is eating the family pride." Jasso stomped out of the living area.   

     Tears welled up in Gurpreet eye's as she caught Babli's shadow running away in the dark. Her years of secret was lying stark naked in front of her daughter. The guilt was already eating her up from the time of that deadly accident when Chandrachur had decided to walk out of their marriage of 5yrs and start a new life with Bobby, Babli's biological mother. But they both met with a dreadly accident consuming their lives. A two year Babli was left at the mercy of fate. Gurpreet had given her the warmth of her bosoms against the wrath of the family. Today the cuckoo's well kept secret was out. She feared Babli's reaction. How could she face her? 

      Christmas arrived with gloominess. For the other Khurranas it never mattered. Gurpreet wondered what her daughter who had turned silent for 2days was feeling. She couldn't sleep the whole night and hence walked to the mango tree in the coutyard. Their secret place to share secrets. Something glittered in the dark there. Quickly pacing herself on the bench she found a gift and note on it. 

" Dear Ma, you will and always remain my mother. No secret truth can chop off our bond. So what if I never shared your umbilical chord? Yet the placenta of your care and comfort has made me what  I am. 

Love Babli"

There was nobody around but definitely Babli was watching her from some secret dent in the wall. The secret that pricked her soul like a grain of sand had evolved into a pearl today. The secret of every bond was only unconditional love and none, she smiled.