I need a proper place to tell this tale as it has just finished unfolding about a few hours ago and we're still somewhat mulling over it. It is just ridiculous how people can change in no time. And I really appreciate everyone's support, advice, and even sarcastic but hilarious comments, so please do read this story if you can/want, even if it is tl;dr.
Also - you may love or hate this story, but unfortunately all of my family members have to deal with it and the aftermath (including me). Please remember that.
Final note, I wrote this with all the original family member's names in and then substituted them with English names, just in case and also for people to be able to read easier since Indian names are sometimes difficult. The only name here that's still the original is Rita.
Right now we're in my hometown in Tamil Nadu. We started here when we arrived in India off the flight from Hong Kong. This is home for all of us, and even if my dad was born in another state, he worked here and met my mom here and he likes it here. We then headed to my dad's brother's place in Andra Pradesh, and then to Calcutta for a few days. We just returned back to my hometown in T.N. on the 14th.
We're visiting India partly to conduct the ceremony for my grandmother's (dad's mom) 1 year death anniversary. It's a Hindu thing, we have rituals and stuff. And while I personally would rather visit various orphanages for the 4 days we conducted ceremonies, my uncle (dad's younger bro) and his family would want to have that closure. We're also visiting to locate my missing aunt and cousin from my dad's side, who we thought were living in regions nearby Calcutta. This is that story.
My father's family is a semi-large one. My dad is the oldest, followed by (in order of birth) my aunt Victoria, my uncle Joshua, my uncle Patrick, my aunt Lolly, and finally my aunt Kelly.
Joshua passed away when I was in 10th grade. The superstitious story that's going around is that he was murdered. I for one think it was just a road accident because it was raining hard and it was night and they found him and various motorcycle parts on the beach the next day.
My aunt Victoria was married to a man named Alexander just a few months after my parents' marriage.
My other aunts were married off when I was in 11th grade and I could attend only one of the marriages (Kelly's).
For all marriages, the funding, the management, the purchasing of the jewelry and saris/other dresses, the acquisition of the temple and reception hall, etc... basically everything was done by my mom and my dad.
Especially for Victoria's marriage, my parents had just gotten married, they had absolutely no money, my dad's dad had passed away right after and so they had to take care of that. So my parents scrambled everywhere to get money, taking loan upon loan. Victoria didn't even have a proper sari to wear.
With absolutely nothing they conducted a fantastic wedding and reception and the 2 (Victoria and Alexander) went off to Calcutta on the train the very same day.
Alexander was working at the Telegraph office (the telegraph is the newspaper there, not an old telegraph for communications). He had worked his way up to editor.
Though he had a lot of stress issues and various family problems, Alexander was always smiling, always cheerful, always low pressure, always joking around. He was actually my favorite uncle from that side, even if he wasn't blood related, I treated him as if he was my dad's brother. And in many ways he was. He made my dad smile and laugh, always drinking chai with him, having a smoke, cracking jokes of all nature.
In turn he kept Victoria and his daughter Rita happy. Rita was born just 6 months after me, so she was like the cousin I sort of looked up to when things were down at Berkeley. Oddly enough I used her studiousness and spirit and all that to boost my morale, even if she was below me.
For my other aunts' weddings we had a little bit more money since it was in USD rather than in rupees but the debt is still a bruise in my mom's side, and she's slowly managing to pay it off. (Btw yes my mom takes care of the finances).
While at Berkeley, things were all okay for the most part in India. Things were tumultuous during high school because of the weddings and Joshua's death. We went and visited all of them in 2006, and this time we decided to visit Alexander and co. in Calcutta. At that time Rita was just entering university and she was pretty excited. We were all playing around, singing, joking. There's even a picture of me with Rita, where I pretend to point a gun at her face with 2 fingers as she pretends to punch me. It had been a long time since I had that sort of fun and that sort of a relationship with their family.
The family in my hometown and my grandmother in Andhra Pradesh were falling ill with all sorts of various problems when 2008 rolled in. It seemed like every single one was sick and in fact they were. My uncle on my mom's side was born with various heart and organ problems and he had major jaundice and had to have surgery for his other problems.
My mom went in and helped out along with my aunt. Everyone was fine.
Uncle Patrick and his family were constantly yelling at my grandmother, and as a result she was sitting outside everyday, staring at the road and at traffic, thinking. She never voiced or said anything to my uncle but to me personally and to my mom she said "I'm very lonely". Having lost her husband and her son, and having 3 daughters live 500-800 miles away from her, and having to deal with this yelling bastard while red ants are crawling all over her legs, it hurt so much. And so we did as much as we could to help her and to tame Patrick.
Then 2009 rolled in. 2009 was the international year of Astronomy and because I majored in it at cal I was getting newsletters from friends and graduate student teachers. I think it was 400 years since Galileo made his first astronomical observations with a telescope. For us it meant something completely different.
I had problems at Berkeley and I had to take a few courses to finish and graduate. In order to do that however I had to come back home to San Diego because I had no more financial strength to stay there and take 1 or 2 classes. So I ended up taking courses at UCSD hoping I would graduate, not knowing if they were going to pull something else out of their sleeve and prevent me from doing so.
We went to visit the family again early in March. Since the last time we went was 2006, it had been the usual 3-year visit.
After that I came back and started again looking for jobs and checking about graduation requirements.
While taking a geophysics class at UCSD I started working at the medical center. This is where I had 4/5 bosses if you guys remember. My dad was working in the building right next to mine, so we would hang out everyday.
My dad had to be admitted at the hospital one day for his sleep apnea. They were taking tests and while he had his phone with him, it was kept in a locker room/storage room solely so that he could call in the morning when they were done.
I was at home with mom, getting ready to hit the bed, having just returned from dropping my dad off. Suddenly we get a phone call. It starts with 91, country code for India. So my heart started racing... why? Because the last few times they called at this particular hour something bad happened. Mom was speaking in Tamil and while I could understand it was very infrequent and ambiguous. She puts the phone down and says "Alexander died". We were just all shocked. He was so young... I mean he was in his 50s but you don't expect someone to go when they're in their 50s. I asked what had happened. My mom said that they were waking him up in the morning for coffee. He had a bit of a headache and wanted some, but he said "please let me sleep for 10 more minutes". 30 minutes later they tried to wake him up again and noticed he wasn't breathing. Without even a whimper he left the solar system.
We immediately called Calcutta, and my aunt Victoria's cellphone. I didn't speak but for maybe 5 seconds, but I didn't need to. I could hear the pangs of terror and volumes and volumes of tears from both my aunt and my cousin. I could hear Rita going "Ohhh" in a very shocked and broken voice. They asked to speak to my dad, since he's the eldest, hoping for some guidance. What could we do, we can't get a hold of my dad. We just said that he's admitted in the hospital and we'll let him know and get this all sorted out. We're here for you. They kept saying please come immediately. We said we'll figure it out once dad gets out of the hospital. The phone kept disconnecting so that's all we could get after calling literally 20-30 times.
We had to figure out finances, obtaining tickets, stopping work (mom was running experiments, dad had so many assays to finish, and I couldn't go by myself to Bengal not knowing Hindi or Bengali). Since it would take at least 2 days to even get to India we thought it would be best that we send someone from there first and decided that my uncle Patrick should head over as soon as he could. We discussed this with Victoria saying that while we worked out plans with work and flights, we will send Patrick over to help you out and be there for you. Victoria started screaming angrily loudly saying no I don't want them. Even Rita started screeching out. We had to do something, so we sent them along to Calcutta anyways. Meanwhile Victoria hadn't even informed Alexander's mom of her son's death. And so we had to figure out how to delicately pass the grave news to that family.
We managed all of that and sent Patrick along with 2 other relatives, and we conveyed the news of his death to his own mom. When Alexander's family tried to call them up to speak to them, they refused to pick up the phone. We then planned the tickets for my mom to go, I even backed her up on finances. She called Victoria to tell her that she was coming soon, and to please hold on. Victoria responded with a furious no and bla bla, exclaiming all sorts of things including that she had conducted a better wedding for her sisters Kelly and Lolly than for her, and that we didn't care about her at all.
A day later we heard word that they precipitated and hastily conducted his cremation.
Then we never heard from them, with the last things they said to us involving screaming and shouting, even to my dad.
A week had passed and we heard word that my grandmother under care of Patrick was falling ill with piles and fever. We forced my dad to pack his things and go immediately as there was so much to take care of. I went with my parents to CVS, getting adult diapers, various medicines for her piles and other ailments, and I told my parents that I would incur the fees because they needed to manage for the plane ticket. A day later my dad was leaving. I couldn't deal with work, not because of the 5 bosses but because I was getting a sinking feeling. We later found out that day that my grandmother passed away. That night my dad left for India, and my mom and I had to decide what to do.
We then went as well a couple of days later, somehow managing the ticket prices.
All throughout the journey we were all thinking the same thing. "Alexander's death was the last thing that severed the connection of my grandmother's soul to this world".
After the cremation ceremony and all that we came back to T.N. for just a day and returned back home, back to the old grind, feeling odd. I was trying to console and provide strength and support for my dad. I had my 5 seconds of crying right when we got the phone call.
After working so hard in the geophysics class, I managed a B+. I had done the calculations. I needed an A to graduate. I had a sinking feeling that this was yet another no-go. I called up my advisor nonetheless and passed on the unnoficial transcript, saying the official one will come later. She said ok, no problems and that she would call me back with any info. She gave me a call back a couple of days later and I immediately got scared, thinking that I was over the unit cap and I couldn't graduate. She then said "You're all set to graduate". I broke down and immediately thanked Alexander and my grandmother for blessing me and giving me this glimmer of hope.
Then comes early 2010. Physics GRE, new astrophysics-related job, mom has a conference in Japan of all places, dad gets a promotion. All positives. All thanks to our late relatives, watching over us. I told my parents that they were supernovas. They did their duties here and left behind all this wealth of knowledge, love, and other things to keep us going, effectively giving life to others. Mom decided to visit because her own mom was down with fever, but because the hospital thats 1 km from the house is world-renowned we knew we wouldn't have problems. She just decided that since she's going all the way to Japan she had best make a short visit to see her fam.
Now comes last week. We're on the train, having finished conducting my grandmother's ceremony and seeing everyone off. There was a terrible chilling sense, not because we were traveling in the air-conditioned compartment, but because we had no idea where to go, we just knew that they had to be near Calcutta. The train started from Andra Pradesh at late evening and would arrive Calcutta in the early morning. This was appropriate as we were literally going in the dark.
We arrived on Sunday the 11th in the morning at 7:30. The hotel we booked kindly sent a car over and we went through very empty streets to the hotel. I was shocked as I was expecting it to be packed to the brim. The skies were clear as day and the sun was shining, it wasn't even hot. The hotel welcomed us in and after a short nap and a shower, we set off into nothing.
When Alexander was still alive we knew they were living in a city called Barrackpore, just about 50 miles from Calcutta proper. We had their address there and so we asked for a car to take us, incurring the charges. After about 30 or 45 minutes of driving we ended up in the general area of Barrackpore, not knowing where any of the streets were. We asked directions at various places at least 20 times, all while navigating literally a labyrinth of unmarked streets. The streets themselves were only big enough for 1 car and a very emaciated person, so traveling through was hectic. We finally arrived at the location, and we walked, dragging our 1 suitcase which contained all information and even a photo album of Victoria's wedding with us. We met with someone there and asked about Alexander and the others. A man walked out, having just stepped out of the shower, with a towel around him, but speaking perfect english. He took us to this tiny almost dilapitated building stating that she used to live there with Alexander. They asked the landlord about her location, and he translated the Bengali. He started saying "I'm sorry, but your sister and her child", and immediately I dreaded what was coming, "...are no longer living here". Phew.
We were then told to contact the telegraph newspaper's main office. They said someone from the telegraph had actually come to help them move out, so they may have more information. So we decided to head back, all of us disappointed but still trying to remain positive.
The next day was a working day and so we headed out immediately to the telegraph office. This time the traffic was jammed up to the core, with the huge wide empty Sunday streets packed with yellow taxis, motorbikes, buses and trucks, all honking and creating pollution. We arrived at a telegraph building. We enquired about Alexander and immediately they told us the office is on the other side. Thankfully since my dad speaks Hindi we could manage in this place, but it was still confusing as they were partly speaking hindi and partly in Bengali and crude English.
We then saw that the subway exit was on both sides of the street, so instead of crossing and possibly getting killed, we decided to enter and exit the subway to arrive on the other side. We headed first in the wrong direction, and then in the right one, finding ABP enquiries office. ABP is the main company that includes the telegraph newspaper. They then finally said the building was down the road. We got in, with a security guard at the front using his portable metal detector to scan us, and a proper metal detector and x-ray machine inside. Once in we asked the reception if we could chat with someone in the office about our predicament. Seeing the baggages we had, they only allowed my dad in. As soon as we finished discussing what he should ask the people and he had passed through the security doors, it started raining outside. Hopefully it's a blessing.
After an apprehensive 45 minutes he came back out, with his thumb up and a smiling face. He had acquired not only the phone number but also their current residential address, and the fact that Rita was now working in the telegraph office. (There's a ruling in India that if your parent passes away, the child or spouse is entitled to a position either close to or just below but in the same department as their deceased member). They said she would come into work after 3 pm.
We then decided to go and check out the address, and left to go outside in the pouring rain.
We headed to an internet cafe and google searched the directions to this new address. We found a taxi, gave him the directions and we were off. This time, because it was a taxi and it was a longer distance, all we had to eat and breathe was car pollution for the next hour. And we were sitting in huge traffic jams.
Eventually though we made it to some location, and we searched. Aha this is "1/5 Colony road". So we knocked. An elderly lady came out and stated that we wanted the extension building, which is behind. We then walked, dragging our suitcase and carrying other bags (including sweets we bought earlier to give to them). Going through these crappy back roads and navigating around asking people who mainly spoke bengali and very very little hindi. Somehow we finally arrived at the extension area and found 1/5. We knocked on the door and while there was a thin irritated looking gentleman at the door, I remember and my dad remembers we distinctly saw my aunt Victoria in the back at the window, and immediately she hid from us. We had to ask this dumbass fool though politely and he said no no they're not here and shut the door. I asked my dad "Did you just see her". He said "Yeah she was at the window wasn't she?". So we knocked again. This time a lady showed up and she kept talking in Bengali, not knowing anything. We showed them the photo albums, and she just smiled while he paid no attention. She closed the door on us, we knocked one last time. This time the man came out, shut the door behind him and stood out next to us, talking in Bengali on his cellphone. We showed him the album and he just nods and says that they used to live here but they don't anymore. We said that this hunt here is just fruitless, and decided - with great sorrow - that we would turn back and head back.
Since Rita was coming in to work we decided we may as well wait for her there, so we could just talk to her and figure this whole thing out. We didn't care if they yelled at us or anything, let them, we'll sit there patiently until they've gotten all the barking out of their system. So we went. Going through all the pollution and sitting in traffic jams for another hour. I had been falling sick as well so I was having a sore throat and started having sinus pressure added to the fray. We get there and we decide that we should probably eat first, since it was 2:30 and she was coming only after 3. Even if she comes in we can at least ask them to send her down, my dad had just made friends with everyone there and they all support him after he relayed the story.
We had some light lunch and some tea and coffee at the mall area nearby the office and headed back. It was 3:30 so we were hoping to see her. We asked and they said she hasn't come in yet and that we should wait until after 4. So we waited. My dad was a little distraught about the whole mess and so he even went outside the office and stood near the security guard, hoping to see if she comes by. He relented after a while and came back in and waited with us. We discussed all the prospects "What if she yells, what if she cries, what if she talks to us, what do we do next". Then suddenly we see her walk in and put her bag in the x-ray machine. We notice her and go hey it's Rita. The receptionist calls out her name. My eyes clash right with Rita's. They were cold, and almost dead. She immediately picks up her bag from the machine, before it even goes in, and rushes out in a panic. We had not expected that sort of reaction at all. The receptionists were shocked, the security guard was puzzled, and my heart was pounding at a million miles an hour. My dad decided to go see where she headed, and so he went out in search. I tried to calm myself down and spoke to my mom a few words, and waited for my dad for a minute. I then told her I was also heading out. I spotted my dad coming towards me and I asked what happened. He points and says she's off in that direction. I spotted her and started walking, making sure to avoid the large gaps in the sidewalk. Everyone calls her Rita, I had no idea that was even her name until I was in 11th grade. I called what I had always called her, ever since I was a little kid, knowing that no-one else calls her that. "Bomma", I yelled, walking fast towards her. She starts running, almost sprinting. My legs start shaking, my heart is pounding faster. I have no idea what to do. I just know I'm so close and I was running slowly after her. I yell out "Bomma it's me, please wait". She runs even faster and escapes past the security guard through the staff entrance.
I just stand outside, the security guard gesturing that I'm not allowed. He said in what little English he knew "Please wait here". I waited for 5 minutes, panting, legs shaking, heart racing. I was just 6 feet away, just 6. I was wondering if I should have sprinted, but it would have caused a scene, and the security guards were already asking questions to the reception, wondering why we were waiting for so long. Bomma never came out, I think she may have been watching through a window to see if I was there, because apparently after I came back to the other entrance she came out of the staff entrance (which turned out not to even be a staff entrance). We had no idea what to do, and because of the crazy reaction, it's WE that end up looking so bad in front of everyone, like we're stalking her or attacking her or something and that her life is in danger. So we decide to write a note saying that this is our phone number and that we were staying in such and such hotel and we wish her well and if she wants to contact us, to feel free.
We handed the message with our apologies and sullenly headed back to the hotel. My dad and I basically had the same viewpoint "Fuck them". My mom on the other hand was unsure. But we all knew we couldn't return to the office again to see her tomorrow, it would look awkward and they would start saying that we were stalking her.
So not knowing what the situation was we had to extend the hotel stay for the extra day, and we had to push back the flight by 1 day, incurring late fees like crazy.
The next day (the 14th), we packed our bags and took 2 taxis to the airport. It was a 2 hour flight from Calcutta to Chennai. By the time we arrived though it was 1 hour late. We couldn't contact anyone about it and we didn't know my uncle's cellphone number (he was arriving to pick us up). So we shut the cellphone down. After we landed we had umpteen number of waits until we finally got our bags and headed out and met my uncle who laughed and joked. Not a moment later we receive a call.
It's from Bomma.
She starts apologizing to my mom profusely about what happened and asked to speak to my dad. Because my dad is old and he has problems when flying with pressure, his ears were totally clogged and so he said he couldn't hear her feeble voice. So my mom said that we would call her back. Rita then asked if we could come to the office to meet her. My mom stated that we had already landed in Chennai, but that we would try to call shortly as the reception was poor.
Since then until now (the 17th), we've been trying to call her, but she isn't picking up at all.
My dad emails the person he spoke to at the Telegraph office, and he states that him and all his colleagues sat Rita down and spoke to her saying "Your uncle and his family have come all the way from the US to meet you and you're acting like this". She apparently told him that they no longer wanted to have any connections with us. And the telegraph member then told my dad that apparently she had called my mother to find out if we were still in Calcutta or had left.
My mom's mom cried after hearing all this. She said, if Rita had insulted my mom or myself it wouldn't matter. But the fact that she had insulted my father, who left my mom and a 6 month old baby (me) to go and attend Rita's birth, more than 1000 miles away, who took care of their family, was disappointing.
My uncle (who picked us up at the airport said to me). "I'm sorry I have to say this and use this word, but Rita's a fucking lunatic".
I said "Why are you apologizing about saying the word lunatic, she's fucking psycho".
Phew. That took me hours to write. I hope it doesn't take you guys hours to read.
All I can tell you is, I hate Calcutta, and I never want to go there again, and I'm never helping these idiots who've totally isolated themselves from the rest of the family.
Also - you may love or hate this story, but unfortunately all of my family members have to deal with it and the aftermath (including me). Please remember that.
Final note, I wrote this with all the original family member's names in and then substituted them with English names, just in case and also for people to be able to read easier since Indian names are sometimes difficult. The only name here that's still the original is Rita.
Right now we're in my hometown in Tamil Nadu. We started here when we arrived in India off the flight from Hong Kong. This is home for all of us, and even if my dad was born in another state, he worked here and met my mom here and he likes it here. We then headed to my dad's brother's place in Andra Pradesh, and then to Calcutta for a few days. We just returned back to my hometown in T.N. on the 14th.
We're visiting India partly to conduct the ceremony for my grandmother's (dad's mom) 1 year death anniversary. It's a Hindu thing, we have rituals and stuff. And while I personally would rather visit various orphanages for the 4 days we conducted ceremonies, my uncle (dad's younger bro) and his family would want to have that closure. We're also visiting to locate my missing aunt and cousin from my dad's side, who we thought were living in regions nearby Calcutta. This is that story.
My father's family is a semi-large one. My dad is the oldest, followed by (in order of birth) my aunt Victoria, my uncle Joshua, my uncle Patrick, my aunt Lolly, and finally my aunt Kelly.
Joshua passed away when I was in 10th grade. The superstitious story that's going around is that he was murdered. I for one think it was just a road accident because it was raining hard and it was night and they found him and various motorcycle parts on the beach the next day.
My aunt Victoria was married to a man named Alexander just a few months after my parents' marriage.
My other aunts were married off when I was in 11th grade and I could attend only one of the marriages (Kelly's).
For all marriages, the funding, the management, the purchasing of the jewelry and saris/other dresses, the acquisition of the temple and reception hall, etc... basically everything was done by my mom and my dad.
Especially for Victoria's marriage, my parents had just gotten married, they had absolutely no money, my dad's dad had passed away right after and so they had to take care of that. So my parents scrambled everywhere to get money, taking loan upon loan. Victoria didn't even have a proper sari to wear.
With absolutely nothing they conducted a fantastic wedding and reception and the 2 (Victoria and Alexander) went off to Calcutta on the train the very same day.
Alexander was working at the Telegraph office (the telegraph is the newspaper there, not an old telegraph for communications). He had worked his way up to editor.
Though he had a lot of stress issues and various family problems, Alexander was always smiling, always cheerful, always low pressure, always joking around. He was actually my favorite uncle from that side, even if he wasn't blood related, I treated him as if he was my dad's brother. And in many ways he was. He made my dad smile and laugh, always drinking chai with him, having a smoke, cracking jokes of all nature.
In turn he kept Victoria and his daughter Rita happy. Rita was born just 6 months after me, so she was like the cousin I sort of looked up to when things were down at Berkeley. Oddly enough I used her studiousness and spirit and all that to boost my morale, even if she was below me.
For my other aunts' weddings we had a little bit more money since it was in USD rather than in rupees but the debt is still a bruise in my mom's side, and she's slowly managing to pay it off. (Btw yes my mom takes care of the finances).
While at Berkeley, things were all okay for the most part in India. Things were tumultuous during high school because of the weddings and Joshua's death. We went and visited all of them in 2006, and this time we decided to visit Alexander and co. in Calcutta. At that time Rita was just entering university and she was pretty excited. We were all playing around, singing, joking. There's even a picture of me with Rita, where I pretend to point a gun at her face with 2 fingers as she pretends to punch me. It had been a long time since I had that sort of fun and that sort of a relationship with their family.
The family in my hometown and my grandmother in Andhra Pradesh were falling ill with all sorts of various problems when 2008 rolled in. It seemed like every single one was sick and in fact they were. My uncle on my mom's side was born with various heart and organ problems and he had major jaundice and had to have surgery for his other problems.
My mom went in and helped out along with my aunt. Everyone was fine.
Uncle Patrick and his family were constantly yelling at my grandmother, and as a result she was sitting outside everyday, staring at the road and at traffic, thinking. She never voiced or said anything to my uncle but to me personally and to my mom she said "I'm very lonely". Having lost her husband and her son, and having 3 daughters live 500-800 miles away from her, and having to deal with this yelling bastard while red ants are crawling all over her legs, it hurt so much. And so we did as much as we could to help her and to tame Patrick.
Then 2009 rolled in. 2009 was the international year of Astronomy and because I majored in it at cal I was getting newsletters from friends and graduate student teachers. I think it was 400 years since Galileo made his first astronomical observations with a telescope. For us it meant something completely different.
I had problems at Berkeley and I had to take a few courses to finish and graduate. In order to do that however I had to come back home to San Diego because I had no more financial strength to stay there and take 1 or 2 classes. So I ended up taking courses at UCSD hoping I would graduate, not knowing if they were going to pull something else out of their sleeve and prevent me from doing so.
We went to visit the family again early in March. Since the last time we went was 2006, it had been the usual 3-year visit.
After that I came back and started again looking for jobs and checking about graduation requirements.
While taking a geophysics class at UCSD I started working at the medical center. This is where I had 4/5 bosses if you guys remember. My dad was working in the building right next to mine, so we would hang out everyday.
My dad had to be admitted at the hospital one day for his sleep apnea. They were taking tests and while he had his phone with him, it was kept in a locker room/storage room solely so that he could call in the morning when they were done.
I was at home with mom, getting ready to hit the bed, having just returned from dropping my dad off. Suddenly we get a phone call. It starts with 91, country code for India. So my heart started racing... why? Because the last few times they called at this particular hour something bad happened. Mom was speaking in Tamil and while I could understand it was very infrequent and ambiguous. She puts the phone down and says "Alexander died". We were just all shocked. He was so young... I mean he was in his 50s but you don't expect someone to go when they're in their 50s. I asked what had happened. My mom said that they were waking him up in the morning for coffee. He had a bit of a headache and wanted some, but he said "please let me sleep for 10 more minutes". 30 minutes later they tried to wake him up again and noticed he wasn't breathing. Without even a whimper he left the solar system.
We immediately called Calcutta, and my aunt Victoria's cellphone. I didn't speak but for maybe 5 seconds, but I didn't need to. I could hear the pangs of terror and volumes and volumes of tears from both my aunt and my cousin. I could hear Rita going "Ohhh" in a very shocked and broken voice. They asked to speak to my dad, since he's the eldest, hoping for some guidance. What could we do, we can't get a hold of my dad. We just said that he's admitted in the hospital and we'll let him know and get this all sorted out. We're here for you. They kept saying please come immediately. We said we'll figure it out once dad gets out of the hospital. The phone kept disconnecting so that's all we could get after calling literally 20-30 times.
We had to figure out finances, obtaining tickets, stopping work (mom was running experiments, dad had so many assays to finish, and I couldn't go by myself to Bengal not knowing Hindi or Bengali). Since it would take at least 2 days to even get to India we thought it would be best that we send someone from there first and decided that my uncle Patrick should head over as soon as he could. We discussed this with Victoria saying that while we worked out plans with work and flights, we will send Patrick over to help you out and be there for you. Victoria started screaming angrily loudly saying no I don't want them. Even Rita started screeching out. We had to do something, so we sent them along to Calcutta anyways. Meanwhile Victoria hadn't even informed Alexander's mom of her son's death. And so we had to figure out how to delicately pass the grave news to that family.
We managed all of that and sent Patrick along with 2 other relatives, and we conveyed the news of his death to his own mom. When Alexander's family tried to call them up to speak to them, they refused to pick up the phone. We then planned the tickets for my mom to go, I even backed her up on finances. She called Victoria to tell her that she was coming soon, and to please hold on. Victoria responded with a furious no and bla bla, exclaiming all sorts of things including that she had conducted a better wedding for her sisters Kelly and Lolly than for her, and that we didn't care about her at all.
A day later we heard word that they precipitated and hastily conducted his cremation.
Then we never heard from them, with the last things they said to us involving screaming and shouting, even to my dad.
A week had passed and we heard word that my grandmother under care of Patrick was falling ill with piles and fever. We forced my dad to pack his things and go immediately as there was so much to take care of. I went with my parents to CVS, getting adult diapers, various medicines for her piles and other ailments, and I told my parents that I would incur the fees because they needed to manage for the plane ticket. A day later my dad was leaving. I couldn't deal with work, not because of the 5 bosses but because I was getting a sinking feeling. We later found out that day that my grandmother passed away. That night my dad left for India, and my mom and I had to decide what to do.
We then went as well a couple of days later, somehow managing the ticket prices.
All throughout the journey we were all thinking the same thing. "Alexander's death was the last thing that severed the connection of my grandmother's soul to this world".
After the cremation ceremony and all that we came back to T.N. for just a day and returned back home, back to the old grind, feeling odd. I was trying to console and provide strength and support for my dad. I had my 5 seconds of crying right when we got the phone call.
After working so hard in the geophysics class, I managed a B+. I had done the calculations. I needed an A to graduate. I had a sinking feeling that this was yet another no-go. I called up my advisor nonetheless and passed on the unnoficial transcript, saying the official one will come later. She said ok, no problems and that she would call me back with any info. She gave me a call back a couple of days later and I immediately got scared, thinking that I was over the unit cap and I couldn't graduate. She then said "You're all set to graduate". I broke down and immediately thanked Alexander and my grandmother for blessing me and giving me this glimmer of hope.
Then comes early 2010. Physics GRE, new astrophysics-related job, mom has a conference in Japan of all places, dad gets a promotion. All positives. All thanks to our late relatives, watching over us. I told my parents that they were supernovas. They did their duties here and left behind all this wealth of knowledge, love, and other things to keep us going, effectively giving life to others. Mom decided to visit because her own mom was down with fever, but because the hospital thats 1 km from the house is world-renowned we knew we wouldn't have problems. She just decided that since she's going all the way to Japan she had best make a short visit to see her fam.
Now comes last week. We're on the train, having finished conducting my grandmother's ceremony and seeing everyone off. There was a terrible chilling sense, not because we were traveling in the air-conditioned compartment, but because we had no idea where to go, we just knew that they had to be near Calcutta. The train started from Andra Pradesh at late evening and would arrive Calcutta in the early morning. This was appropriate as we were literally going in the dark.
We arrived on Sunday the 11th in the morning at 7:30. The hotel we booked kindly sent a car over and we went through very empty streets to the hotel. I was shocked as I was expecting it to be packed to the brim. The skies were clear as day and the sun was shining, it wasn't even hot. The hotel welcomed us in and after a short nap and a shower, we set off into nothing.
When Alexander was still alive we knew they were living in a city called Barrackpore, just about 50 miles from Calcutta proper. We had their address there and so we asked for a car to take us, incurring the charges. After about 30 or 45 minutes of driving we ended up in the general area of Barrackpore, not knowing where any of the streets were. We asked directions at various places at least 20 times, all while navigating literally a labyrinth of unmarked streets. The streets themselves were only big enough for 1 car and a very emaciated person, so traveling through was hectic. We finally arrived at the location, and we walked, dragging our 1 suitcase which contained all information and even a photo album of Victoria's wedding with us. We met with someone there and asked about Alexander and the others. A man walked out, having just stepped out of the shower, with a towel around him, but speaking perfect english. He took us to this tiny almost dilapitated building stating that she used to live there with Alexander. They asked the landlord about her location, and he translated the Bengali. He started saying "I'm sorry, but your sister and her child", and immediately I dreaded what was coming, "...are no longer living here". Phew.
We were then told to contact the telegraph newspaper's main office. They said someone from the telegraph had actually come to help them move out, so they may have more information. So we decided to head back, all of us disappointed but still trying to remain positive.
The next day was a working day and so we headed out immediately to the telegraph office. This time the traffic was jammed up to the core, with the huge wide empty Sunday streets packed with yellow taxis, motorbikes, buses and trucks, all honking and creating pollution. We arrived at a telegraph building. We enquired about Alexander and immediately they told us the office is on the other side. Thankfully since my dad speaks Hindi we could manage in this place, but it was still confusing as they were partly speaking hindi and partly in Bengali and crude English.
We then saw that the subway exit was on both sides of the street, so instead of crossing and possibly getting killed, we decided to enter and exit the subway to arrive on the other side. We headed first in the wrong direction, and then in the right one, finding ABP enquiries office. ABP is the main company that includes the telegraph newspaper. They then finally said the building was down the road. We got in, with a security guard at the front using his portable metal detector to scan us, and a proper metal detector and x-ray machine inside. Once in we asked the reception if we could chat with someone in the office about our predicament. Seeing the baggages we had, they only allowed my dad in. As soon as we finished discussing what he should ask the people and he had passed through the security doors, it started raining outside. Hopefully it's a blessing.
After an apprehensive 45 minutes he came back out, with his thumb up and a smiling face. He had acquired not only the phone number but also their current residential address, and the fact that Rita was now working in the telegraph office. (There's a ruling in India that if your parent passes away, the child or spouse is entitled to a position either close to or just below but in the same department as their deceased member). They said she would come into work after 3 pm.
We then decided to go and check out the address, and left to go outside in the pouring rain.
We headed to an internet cafe and google searched the directions to this new address. We found a taxi, gave him the directions and we were off. This time, because it was a taxi and it was a longer distance, all we had to eat and breathe was car pollution for the next hour. And we were sitting in huge traffic jams.
Eventually though we made it to some location, and we searched. Aha this is "1/5 Colony road". So we knocked. An elderly lady came out and stated that we wanted the extension building, which is behind. We then walked, dragging our suitcase and carrying other bags (including sweets we bought earlier to give to them). Going through these crappy back roads and navigating around asking people who mainly spoke bengali and very very little hindi. Somehow we finally arrived at the extension area and found 1/5. We knocked on the door and while there was a thin irritated looking gentleman at the door, I remember and my dad remembers we distinctly saw my aunt Victoria in the back at the window, and immediately she hid from us. We had to ask this dumbass fool though politely and he said no no they're not here and shut the door. I asked my dad "Did you just see her". He said "Yeah she was at the window wasn't she?". So we knocked again. This time a lady showed up and she kept talking in Bengali, not knowing anything. We showed them the photo albums, and she just smiled while he paid no attention. She closed the door on us, we knocked one last time. This time the man came out, shut the door behind him and stood out next to us, talking in Bengali on his cellphone. We showed him the album and he just nods and says that they used to live here but they don't anymore. We said that this hunt here is just fruitless, and decided - with great sorrow - that we would turn back and head back.
Since Rita was coming in to work we decided we may as well wait for her there, so we could just talk to her and figure this whole thing out. We didn't care if they yelled at us or anything, let them, we'll sit there patiently until they've gotten all the barking out of their system. So we went. Going through all the pollution and sitting in traffic jams for another hour. I had been falling sick as well so I was having a sore throat and started having sinus pressure added to the fray. We get there and we decide that we should probably eat first, since it was 2:30 and she was coming only after 3. Even if she comes in we can at least ask them to send her down, my dad had just made friends with everyone there and they all support him after he relayed the story.
We had some light lunch and some tea and coffee at the mall area nearby the office and headed back. It was 3:30 so we were hoping to see her. We asked and they said she hasn't come in yet and that we should wait until after 4. So we waited. My dad was a little distraught about the whole mess and so he even went outside the office and stood near the security guard, hoping to see if she comes by. He relented after a while and came back in and waited with us. We discussed all the prospects "What if she yells, what if she cries, what if she talks to us, what do we do next". Then suddenly we see her walk in and put her bag in the x-ray machine. We notice her and go hey it's Rita. The receptionist calls out her name. My eyes clash right with Rita's. They were cold, and almost dead. She immediately picks up her bag from the machine, before it even goes in, and rushes out in a panic. We had not expected that sort of reaction at all. The receptionists were shocked, the security guard was puzzled, and my heart was pounding at a million miles an hour. My dad decided to go see where she headed, and so he went out in search. I tried to calm myself down and spoke to my mom a few words, and waited for my dad for a minute. I then told her I was also heading out. I spotted my dad coming towards me and I asked what happened. He points and says she's off in that direction. I spotted her and started walking, making sure to avoid the large gaps in the sidewalk. Everyone calls her Rita, I had no idea that was even her name until I was in 11th grade. I called what I had always called her, ever since I was a little kid, knowing that no-one else calls her that. "Bomma", I yelled, walking fast towards her. She starts running, almost sprinting. My legs start shaking, my heart is pounding faster. I have no idea what to do. I just know I'm so close and I was running slowly after her. I yell out "Bomma it's me, please wait". She runs even faster and escapes past the security guard through the staff entrance.
I just stand outside, the security guard gesturing that I'm not allowed. He said in what little English he knew "Please wait here". I waited for 5 minutes, panting, legs shaking, heart racing. I was just 6 feet away, just 6. I was wondering if I should have sprinted, but it would have caused a scene, and the security guards were already asking questions to the reception, wondering why we were waiting for so long. Bomma never came out, I think she may have been watching through a window to see if I was there, because apparently after I came back to the other entrance she came out of the staff entrance (which turned out not to even be a staff entrance). We had no idea what to do, and because of the crazy reaction, it's WE that end up looking so bad in front of everyone, like we're stalking her or attacking her or something and that her life is in danger. So we decide to write a note saying that this is our phone number and that we were staying in such and such hotel and we wish her well and if she wants to contact us, to feel free.
We handed the message with our apologies and sullenly headed back to the hotel. My dad and I basically had the same viewpoint "Fuck them". My mom on the other hand was unsure. But we all knew we couldn't return to the office again to see her tomorrow, it would look awkward and they would start saying that we were stalking her.
So not knowing what the situation was we had to extend the hotel stay for the extra day, and we had to push back the flight by 1 day, incurring late fees like crazy.
The next day (the 14th), we packed our bags and took 2 taxis to the airport. It was a 2 hour flight from Calcutta to Chennai. By the time we arrived though it was 1 hour late. We couldn't contact anyone about it and we didn't know my uncle's cellphone number (he was arriving to pick us up). So we shut the cellphone down. After we landed we had umpteen number of waits until we finally got our bags and headed out and met my uncle who laughed and joked. Not a moment later we receive a call.
It's from Bomma.
She starts apologizing to my mom profusely about what happened and asked to speak to my dad. Because my dad is old and he has problems when flying with pressure, his ears were totally clogged and so he said he couldn't hear her feeble voice. So my mom said that we would call her back. Rita then asked if we could come to the office to meet her. My mom stated that we had already landed in Chennai, but that we would try to call shortly as the reception was poor.
Since then until now (the 17th), we've been trying to call her, but she isn't picking up at all.
My dad emails the person he spoke to at the Telegraph office, and he states that him and all his colleagues sat Rita down and spoke to her saying "Your uncle and his family have come all the way from the US to meet you and you're acting like this". She apparently told him that they no longer wanted to have any connections with us. And the telegraph member then told my dad that apparently she had called my mother to find out if we were still in Calcutta or had left.
My mom's mom cried after hearing all this. She said, if Rita had insulted my mom or myself it wouldn't matter. But the fact that she had insulted my father, who left my mom and a 6 month old baby (me) to go and attend Rita's birth, more than 1000 miles away, who took care of their family, was disappointing.
My uncle (who picked us up at the airport said to me). "I'm sorry I have to say this and use this word, but Rita's a fucking lunatic".
I said "Why are you apologizing about saying the word lunatic, she's fucking psycho".
Phew. That took me hours to write. I hope it doesn't take you guys hours to read.
All I can tell you is, I hate Calcutta, and I never want to go there again, and I'm never helping these idiots who've totally isolated themselves from the rest of the family.
I hope you're feeling better now you have some form of closure on that side of things; that you can now concentrate on making sure everything is working well for you and your close family. 
from me just for remaining cheerful on here throughout all of the drama. Hope it all calms down.
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