Vitamin-M – Asha Nehemiah

1Ravi's mother was hurriedly placing tablets of various colours on a small saucer when she muttered her wish — that someone might invent a vitamin for memory. Hyperbole She imagined it being called "Vitamin-M" and given to elderly people to sharpen their memory.

2"Hush — Grandpa will hear you," Ravi warned her, gesturing towards his grandfather, a frail old figure rocking gently in his chair, the newspaper held extremely close to his nose.

3His mother brushed aside the concern: Grandpa could neither hear, see, nor remember very well these days, she said. She was relieved that Ravi's school holidays had started — he could now keep Grandpa company. She shuddered, recalling the difficult month past.

4Just a month earlier, Grandpa had moved in with them because living alone had become too risky. His stay had begun badly: he accidentally doubled his medicine dose and was rushed to hospital, and on another occasion wandered away on a walk and could not find his way back — leaving them all sick with worry.

5Grandpa had deeply resented Vidya's instruction that he must not go out unaccompanied. Speaking with a trace of the authority that had defined his career as a lawyer, he reminded her that he had managed his own life for most of his seventy-five years. After his wife passed away a decade ago, he had cooked, shopped, and run the household himself. "First you push me into this poky flat in this cramped, noisy city," he said, "and now you think you can stop me from stepping out alone!" Irony

6Grandpa missed his brick house in the small town deeply. Imagery He would speak with longing of the mango tree in the garden and the silence so complete that falling leaves could be heard. But it was that very house that had led to trouble — he had slipped in the garden one evening while pottering about and lay on the ground all night with no one to help him. That incident had prompted Vidya to lock up the house and bring him to the city.

7"Shall we play chess or watch the cricket?" Ravi offered after his mother left. Grandpa was a formidable chess player — cool, calculating, always quoting chess legends like Karpov or Bobby Fischer as he moved his pieces. Ravi realised his own game had improved remarkably since Grandpa arrived. He marvelled at the paradox: Grandpa could recall thousands of chess moves across decades yet forget the names of people he met regularly. Irony

8"Set the board," said Grandpa, setting down his paper. "I'll just pop to the corner shop — the Tamil newspaper may have come." Ravi immediately offered to fetch it, but Grandpa was suspicious: had his mother told Ravi to keep him a prisoner? Ravi loyally denied this. "Good," said Grandpa with a crafty smile, "then you will not object to my going out." Irony

9Grandpa picked up his prized mahogany walking stick — black and shiny, its brass handle carved into an eagle's head — put on his bright yellow cap, and declared he would be back before the chessboard was set up. Off he strode, twirling the stick jauntily. Imagery Symbolism

10Ravi was left in a dilemma. Accompanying Grandpa openly would wound his pride; letting him go unwatched would enrage his mother. He decided on a middle path: he would follow Grandpa secretly, at a safe distance, to make sure no harm came to him.

11Ravi sprinted out just in time to see Grandpa's yellow cap disappearing round the corner. First stop — the children's park. Grandpa bought a paper cone of peanuts and settled on a bench, watching the children play. Ravi crouched behind a bush trimmed in the shape of an elephant. A small child wandered over and asked if Ravi was playing hide-and-seek. Before Ravi could silence him, a loud voice boomed above him — the child's mother, brandishing an umbrella. Ravi had to crawl out of the park on all fours, ducking behind benches, creeping through bushes. Hyperbole

12Grandpa's next stop: the tea stall. Ravi took cover behind a large banyan tree, only to attract the suspicion of the vendors. A comb seller addressed him as though through a megaphone; a ribbons-and-clips seller joined in. Ravi surrendered the banyan tree and hid behind a gleaming silver car, peering through its windows. From this vantage point he watched Grandpa enjoy a sweet, sugary cup of tea (banned at home), two bananas (also banned), and then — a full ice cream from the cart. Mother would faint, Ravi thought. Hyperbole

13Ravi's heart thudded as Grandpa zigzagged through the traffic crossing the road. The screech of brakes made Ravi shut his eyes in panic. When he opened them, Grandpa was entering a barber shop — despite being, as Ravi now observed with confusion, completely bald. Curious, Ravi slipped into the next-door shop for a closer look — only to be ejected immediately by a volley of shrieks because it turned out to be a ladies' hair salon. Irony

14Ravi spotted Grandpa heading briskly to the bus stop and boarding the first bus. He sprinted and jumped on just as the doors were closing. Pushing through the crowd, he spotted the yellow cap at the front — but when the cap came off, it revealed a full head of grey hair. This was a stranger in identical white pyjamas and the same yellow cap, even bearing the same coffee stain on the rim. Grandpa had gifted his cap to the stranger in the barber shop because the day was hot — so generous was his nature. But where was Grandpa now? Irony

15Ravi rushed back to the barber shop — no Grandpa. Not at the park either. Frantic with worry, he tried calling both parents from a phone booth, but the lines were busy. He went home in dread, wondering whether Grandpa would ever find his way back.

16The moment he opened the front door, relief washed over him — the gentle whirr of Grandpa's snoring greeted him from the bedroom. Imagery Ravi knelt beside the bed. Grandpa's wrinkled face had more creases than the lines on a map. Simile He smelt of eucalyptus ointment and shaving cream. Suddenly overcome with love, Ravi hugged him — but Grandpa only grunted in his sleep. Ravi decided not to question him; doing so would mean revealing that he had been following him all day.

17"What did you both do today?" asked Vidya when she returned from the office. "I had a quiet morning," answered Grandpa coolly, "but I cannot say about Ravi — he disappeared instead of staying home to look after me as you instructed." Irony Ravi could only look confused and embarrassed.

18Grandpa then produced a gift-wrapped parcel. Vidya protested — Ravi's birthday was three months ago. "I know," said Grandpa seriously, "but you have forgotten — I give a gift to every person in the house on my birthday, not theirs." Vidya flushed with shame when she realised she had circled the date on the calendar at the start of the year and then forgotten it. There was a gift for her and for Ravi's father too, for Grandpa still thought of them all as his children. Irony

19Turning to Ravi's father, Grandpa said calmly: "I think Vidya needs some Vitamin-M — for her memory." Vidya flushed a still deeper shade of red. Irony

20Ravi's gift was a thick hardcover book: The Best Detective Stories. "Wonderful stories," Grandpa told him solemnly. "You can pick up excellent tips on how to avoid being fooled when you are trailing a suspect." Ravi's father looked thoroughly baffled. Ravi was too busy examining the twinkle in Grandpa's eye — was it innocent? Or mischievous? Imagery Symbolism