Possessed by Possession

"Do we really need this brassplate?" Suhas asked frustrated.

"It is ornamental and will look good in our dining room. And look at the price! It's a steal!" his wife Archana exclaimed. Suhas raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, knowing any argument against that logic was a waste of time.


And that was not all. Other nicknacks got added as the price, naturally, was a steal for that kind of a product. But stealing was proving to be costly - though Suhas was using the credit card, he could see his bank balance dropping as he paid. The shopping bags weighed heavy in his hands.

But a worse problem waited at home. Where to keep them? All the "right places" had been taken up already by things bought in earlier sales in shops, in online sites, while travelling, just like that, because it was a steal, because it was a never-to-be-seen-again product - the reasons never ended, and nor the purchases.

They loaded the car and headed home when he saw a sale in the outlet of his favourite brand. "One second, let's just pop in and out," he said and made a U-turn. Ties and belts were his fetish. Small, inconspicuous things that would get the pride of place in his cupboard.

"Another tie! But you have so many!" Archana pointed out.

"Look at this design. I have a trip coming up next month. I can do with some new ones," he said. As he went towards the billing counter, a shirt caught his eye. "I think that will go very well with this tie, won't it?"

"Yes," Archana piped in enthusiastically and helped him pick up shirts for the three shirts he had selected.

They dined out and reached home late. There was no time to sort their purchases, though Archana told her duaghter Medha about the amazine purchases she just must see. "But not now, tomorrow," she promised. "I am very tired."

The next morning, she put it off for the weekend  as she was very busy that week because of work commitments. Then Suhas went out of country on work, with one of the new ties and a matching shirt, and she had to handle the home and office front. Not easy at all, and at the end of the day, all she wanted was to stretch out flat on the bed.

But that was not to be. Her mother-in-law, a widow living alone a few kilometers away, fell sick. Archana rushed when a neighbour called and took her mother-in-law Srilatha to the hospital. The 75-year-old lady had been very active and was determined to be independent. When bouts of giddiness plagued her, she refused to let that cower her down and neglected to mention it to her son and daughter-in-law. Mercifully, when she fell down after a severe bout of giddiness, her door had been open and a neighbour crossing the door just then heard the thud. In yet another miracle, a pile of clothes kept on the floor to be put away later cushioned the head and the lady escaped with nothing more serious than a dislocated shoulder.

Once the hospital discharged Srilatha, Archana overrode her mother-in-law's protests that she was fit to go back to her house. "Let your son return. We can take a decision then," Archana said firmly and brought the lady home.

Suhas had panicked and returned earlier than planned. "You are not going to live alone anymore," he said decisively.

The shift wasn't as easy. Though Suhas and Archana lived in a three bedroom house, every room was filled with things. Srilatha and her essentials could fit in. But there were other things that the elder lady was attached to. Her dining table, for instance. "It is teak wood," she pointed out. But Archana's was also teak and newer. Cupboards, bureaus, sofa set, bed... Kitchen was another maze with mixie, grinder, vessels and even unopened cookers and woks.

Initially Archana brought a few things over to keep her mother-in-law's heart. But as the cleaning of Srilatha's house began in right earnest, Archana realised what a nightmare it was. There were just too many things and nobody to buy them. The maids didn't want any of the stuff even for free. There seemed to be no second hand market for even the best of things. Though Archana was willing to donate them, Srilatha was hesitant. "The cot was made especially and cost us a fortune. The shelf is custom made and was 15,000, only 10 years old..."

Suhas was a nuisance more than help whenever he came to help her with the disposal. "I used to love this swing," he said inspecting it critcally and with nostalgia. "No place," Archana said firmly and asked him to look through his mother's attic. He discovered the alumnium box he used to carry to school and sat down with it, looking through his collection of trivials that had to be thrown away without second thought.

She decided enough was enough. She called an NGO that ran a home for children and adults. They picked up what they could, but even they didn't need many of the things.

Finally, she had to have many good things thrown. Her heart bled for her mother-in-law, her heart bled for the beautiful things, her heart bled for the money and effort that had gone into the making of those things. But she was helpless and had to submit herself to the inevitable. She learnt to ignore her Srilatha's accusatory glare and went the extra mile to make her stay comfortable.

On the last day, when every thing had been thrown and the house was ready to be painted before selling, Archana lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Her mind took an inventory of the things in her own house, wondering how much of it could be passed on to her children. She realised that they had their own preferences and may not want anything that she owned - if they lived in the same city and country.

She remembered the most recent shopping trip, and the purchase still lying unopened under her cot. Had it been really necessary? The many dishes she owned, one for every occasion... The many pots and pans, clothes, handbags...

It wouldn't be easy but she knew what she had to do next.