Tales From Firozsha Baag (8 page)

Clock in
bai-seth’s
room went twelve times. They would all be giving kiss now and saying Happy New Year. When I was little in Panjim, my parents, before all the money went, always gave a party on New Year’s Eve. I lay on my bedding, thinking of those days. It is so strange that so much of your life you can remember if you think quietly in the darkness.

Must not forget rice on stove. With rice, especially Basmati, one minute more or one minute less, one spoon extra water or less water, and it will spoil, it will not he light and every grain separate
.

So there I was in the darkness remembering my father and mother, Panjim and Cajetan, nice beaches and boats. Suddenly it was very sad, so I got up and put a light on. In
bai-seth’s
room their clock said two o’clock. I wished they would come home soon. I checked children’s room, they were sleeping.

Back to my passage I went, and started mending the torn sheet. Sewing, thinking about my mother, how hard she used to work, how she would repair clothes for my brothers and sisters. Not only sewing to mend but also to alter. When my big brother’s pants would not fit, she would open out the waist and undo trouser cuffs to make longer legs. Then when he grew so big that even with alterations it did not fit, she sewed same pants again, making a smaller waist, shorter legs, so little brother could wear. How much work my mother did, sometimes even helping my father outside in the small field, especially if he was visiting a
taverna
the night before.

But sewing and remembering brought me more sadness. I put away the needle and thread and went outside by the stairs. There is a little balcony there. It was so nice and dark and quiet, I just stood there. Then it became a little chilly. I wondered if the ghost was
coming again. My father used to say that whenever a ghost is around it feels chilly, it is a sign. He said he always did in the field when the
bhoot
came to the well.

There was no ghost or anything so I must be chilly, I thought, because it is so early morning. I went in and brought my white bedsheet. Shivering a little, I put it over my head, covering up my ears. There was a full moon, and it looked so good. In Panjim sometimes we used to go to the beach at night when there was a full moon, and father would tell us about when he was little, and the old days when Portuguese ruled Goa, and about grandfather who had been to Portugal in a big ship.

Then I saw
bai-seth’s
car come in the compound. I leaned over the balcony, thinking to wave if they looked up, let them know I had not gone to sleep. Then I thought, no, it is better if I go in quietly before they see me, or
bai
might get angry and say, what are you doing outside in middle of night, leaving children alone inside. But she looked up suddenly. I thought, O my Jesus, she has already seen me.

And then she screamed. I’m telling you, she screamed so loudly I almost fell down faint. It was not angry screaming, it was frightened screaming,
bhoot! bhoot!
and I understood. I quickly went inside and lay down on my bedding.

It took some time for them to come up because she sat inside the car and locked all doors. Would not come out until he climbed upstairs, put on every staircase light to make sure the ghost was gone, and then went back for her.

She came in the house at last and straight to my passage, shaking me, saying wake up, Jaakaylee, wake up! I pretended to be sleeping deeply, then turned around and said, Happy New Year,
bat
, everything is okay, children are okay.

She said, yes yes, but the
bhoot
is on the stairs! I saw him, the one you saw last year at Christmas, he is back, I saw him with my own eyes!

I wanted so much to laugh, but I just said, don’t be afraid,
bai
, he will not do any harm, he is not a ghost of mischief, he must have just lost his way.

Then she said, Jaakaylee, you were telling the truth and I was angry with you. I will tell everyone in B Block you were right, there really is a
bhoot
.

I said
bai
, let it be now, everyone has forgotten about it, and no one will believe anyway. But she said, when I tell them, they will believe.

And after that many people in Firozsha Baag started to believe in the ghost. One was
dustoorji
in A Block. He came one day and taught
bai
a prayer,
saykasté saykasté sataan
, to say it every time she was on the stairs. He told her, because you have seen a
bhoot
on the balcony by the stairs, it is better to have a special Parsi prayer ceremony there so he does not come again and cause any trouble. He said, many years ago, near Marine Lines where Hindus have their funerals and burn bodies, a
bhoot
walked at midnight in the middle of the road, scaring motorists and causing many accidents. Hindu priests said prayers to make him stop. But no use.
Bhoot
kept walking at midnight, motorists kept having accidents. So Hindu priests called me to do
a jashan
, they knew Parsi priest has most powerful prayers of all. And after I did a
jashan
right in the middle of the road, everything was all right.

Bai
listened to all this talk of
dustoorji
from A Block, then said she would check with
seth
and let him know if they wanted a balcony
jashan
. Now
seth
says yes to everything, so he told her, sure sure, let
dustoorji
do it. It will be fun to see the exkoriseesum, he said, some big English word like that.

Dustoorji
was pleased, and he checked his Parsi calendar for a good day. On that morning I had to wash whole balcony floor specially, then
dustoorji
came, spread a white sheet, and put all prayer items on it, a silver thing in which he made fire with sandalwood and
loban
, a big silver dish, a
loata
full of water, flowers, and some fruit.

When it was time to start saying prayers
dustoorji
told me to go inside. Later,
bai
told me that was because Parsi prayers are so powerful, only a Parsi can listen to them. Everyone else can be badly damaged inside their soul if they listen.

So
jashan
was done and
dustoorji
went home with all his prayer things. But when people in Firozsha Baag who did not believe in the ghost heard about prayer ceremony, they began talking and mocking.

Some said Jaakaylee’s
bai
has gone crazy, first the ayah was seeing things, and now she has made her
bai
go mad.
Bai
will not talk to those people in the Baag. She is really angry, says she does not want
friends who think she is crazy. She hopes
jashan
was not very powerful, so the ghost can come again. She wants everyone to see him and know the truth like her.

Busy eating
, bai-seth
are. Curry is hot, they are blowing whoosh-whoosh on their tongues but still eating, they love it hot. Secret of good curry is not only what spices to put, but also what goes in first, what goes in second, and third, and so on. And never cook curry with lid on pot, always leave it open, stir it often, stir it to urge the flavour to come out
.

So
bat
is hoping the ghost will come again. She keeps asking me about ghosts, what they do, why they come. She thinks because I saw the ghost first in Firozsha Baag, it must be my speciality or something. Especially since I am from village – she says village people know more about such things than city people. So I tell her about the
bhoot
we used to see in the small field, and what my father said when he saw the
bhoot
near the well.
Bai
enjoys it, even asks me to sit with her at table, bring my separate mug, and pours a cup for me, listening to my ghost-talk. She does not treat me like servant all the time.

One night she came to my passage when I was saying my rosary and sat down with me on the bedding. I could not believe it, I stopped my rosary. She said, Jaakaylee, what is it Catholics say when they touch their head and stomach and both sides of chest? So I told her, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Right right! she said, I remember it now, when I went to St. Anne’s High School there were many Catholic girls and they used to say it always before and after class prayer, yes, Holy Ghost. Jaakaylee, you don’t think this is that Holy Ghost you pray to, do you? And I said, no
bai
, that Holy Ghost has a different meaning, it is not like the
bhoot you
and I saw.

Yesterday she said, Jaakaylee, will you help me with something? All morning she was looking restless, so I said, yes
bai
. She left the table and came back with her big scissors and the flat cane
soopra
I use for winnowing rice and wheat. She said, my granny showed me a little magic once, she told me to keep it for important things only. The
bhoot
is, so I am going to use it. If you help me. It needs two Parsis, but I’ll do it with you.

I just sat quietly, a little worried, wondering what she was up to now. First, she covered her head with a white
mathoobanoo
, and gave
me one for mine, she said to put it over my head like a scarf. Then, the two points of scissors she poked through one side of
soopra
, really tight, so it could hang from the scissors. On two chairs we sat face to face. She made me balance one ring of scissors on my finger, and she balanced the other ring on hers. And we sat like that, with
soopra
hanging from scissors between us, our heads covered with white cloth. Believe or don’t believe, it looked funny and scary at the same time. When
soopra
became still and stopped swinging around she said, now close your eyes and don’t think of anything, just keep your hand steady. So I closed my eyes, wondering if
seth
knew what was going on.

Then she started to speak, in a voice I had never heard before. It seemed to come from very far away, very soft, all scary. My hair was standing, I felt chilly, as if a
bhoot
was about to come. This is what she said: if the ghost is going to appear again, then
soopra
must turn.

Nothing happened. But I’m telling you, I was so afraid I just kept my eyes shut tight, like she told me to do. I wanted to see nothing which I was not supposed to see. All this was something completely new for me. Even in my village, where everyone knew so much about ghosts, magic with
soopra
and scissors was unknown.

Then
bai
spoke once more, in that same scary voice: if the ghost is going to appear again, upstairs or downstairs, on balcony or inside the house, this year or next year, in daylight or in darkness, for good purpose or for bad purpose, then
soopra
must surely turn.

Believe or don’t believe, this time it started to turn, I could feel the ring of the scissors moving on my finger. I screamed and pulled away my hand, there was a loud crash, and
bai
also screamed.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Everything was on the floor, scissors were broken, and I said to
bai
, I’m very sorry I was so frightened,
bau
and for breaking your big scissors, you can take it from my pay.

She said, you scared me with your scream, Jaakaylee, but it is all right now, nothing to be scared about, I’m here with you. All the worry was gone from her face. She took off her
mathoobanoo
and patted my shoulder, picked up the broken scissors and
soopra
, and took it back to kitchen.

Bai
was looking very pleased. She came back and said to me, don’t worry about broken scissors, come, bring your mug, I’m making tea
for both of us, forget about
soopra
and ghost for now. So I removed my
mathoobanoo
and went with her.

Jaakaylee, O Jaakaylee, she is calling from dining-room. They must want more curry. Good thing I took some out for my dinner, they will finish the whole pot. Whenever I make Goan curry, nothing is left over. At the end
seth
always takes a piece of bread and rubs it round and round in the pot, wiping every little bit. They always joke, Jaakaylee, no need today for washing pot, all cleaned out. Yes, it is one thing I really enjoy, cooking my Goan curry, stirring and stirring, taking the aroma as it boils and cooks, stirring it again and again, watching it bubbling and steaming, stirring and stirring till it is ready to eat
.

Y
esterday had been the tenth day, dusmoo, after the funeral of Minocher Mirza. Dusmoo prayers were prayed at the fire-temple, and the widow Mirza awaited with apprehension the visitors who would troop into the house over the next few weeks. They would come to offer their condolence, share her grief, poke and pry into her life and Minocher’s with a thousand questions. And to gratify them with answers she would have to relive the anguish of the most trying days of her life.

The more tactful ones would wait for the first month,
maasiso
, to elapse before besieging her with sympathy and comfort. But not the early birds; they would come flocking from today. It was open season, and Minocher Mirza had been well-known in the Parsi community of Bombay.