Being CANDYD

MAYA

Maya is the apple of her parent’s eyes. The only daughter, she is doted upon by them and leads a simple but sheltered life. She goes to school; she gossips; she studies; she goes out with friends for movies; even completes her homework at times; and plays with Tasha - her litter mate and sister, the beloved golden retriever she grew up with. She argues with her mom, she sulks, throws tantrums, pouts and reluctantly goes to bed by nine.

She is a typical seventeen year old.

One morning, her father receives a call from a hospital in Bombay. They tell him that Maya’s aunt was in an accident and was rushed to the hospital, her condition critical. Her parents are required and have to leave at once. They are unable to find a chaperone for Maya at such short notice and are anxious about leaving her home alone. Maya convinces them, and they reluctantly agree. But not without laying down a few ground rules first. Her father gives her precise instructions. He insists that she reach home by five in the evening; close the doors and windows at the first hint of dusk. Once indoors, she is supposed to complete her studies, maybe watch a little television, probably play with Tasha, eat her dinner at nine, cross check all the doors and windows, test the latches and then go to bed. Her father also instructs her to keep Tasha with her at all times. Maya laughs at their anxiety and jokes that she is certainly old enough to live through one evening alone. Not convinced but beaten, her parents reluctantly leave. That evening, for the first time in her life, Maya experiences the joy of an empty house. She comes home, throws her shoes and bags in the living room, settles down in front of the television without bothering to change out of her uniform. No mom’s voice insisting that she do this or that. What bliss. Following her father’s instructions to a T, Mala locks all the doors and windows the minute the shadows darken. She prepares for her algebra test the next day, watches the strictly banned Desperate Housewives, eats her dinner, checks the locks and then calls it a night. Paranoia sets in the minute her head hits the pillow, as she replays every ghost story, murder, rape, alien abduction story she has ever heard of! Laughing at her foolishness, she seeks comfort from Tasha who is sleeping under her bed. Just to be safe, she ensures the bedroom door is locked and eventually as the hundredth sheep jumps over the picket fence, she drifts into a troubled sleep.

That night she dreams a black dream; that typical nerve-wracking dream the details of which you never remember the next morning. She tosses and turns restlessly for a couple of hours. Tasha licks her hand, reassured, she finally settles into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Maya wakes up and laughs at her foolishness. Stretching lazily, she heads to the bathroom. She opens the door and finds Tasha hanging in the shower. Across the mirror, slashed in her mother’s red lipstick, she read “IT WASN’T THE DOG THAT LICKED YOUR HAND LAST NIGHT.”