Monday, March 2, 2009
Translated from Telugu by Dr. Haribandi Lakshmi, EFL University
It was a pleasant feeling that those letters were growing bigger and bigger in size and were encircling her and leaving her alternatively. If a shape were given to a wish it would perhaps have the power to pierce the heart. Parvathi restlessly turned in the bed from one side to another. Bhaskar was sleeping at a distance that her hand could reach. She looked at him seriously for a while. She had a guilty feeling somewhere in her heart. ‘Does he have any secret in his life?’ ‘It cannot have an answer’ pat came the reply.
Where is the chance? From the time he gets up in the morning he teaches three batches of students for three hours, one hour each batch. Then he goes to college. In the evening he comes home, takes a cup of tea and starts teaching again. As far as EAMCET coaching is concerned there is no one who is better than him. In his life there is just no room for any feelings or emotions. Then what about her restlessness? Her very thinking in those lines is wrong. She closed her eyes and tried hard to sleep. Though she says ‘no!’ ‘no!’ that scene appears in front of her eyes again and again.
- - - - - - -
The phone in the computer section seemed to be dead. She had got irritated by trying for it several times and finally went there personally. When she went there, he alone was there trying some new design on the computer. Out of curiosity, she stepped forward without disturbing him. On the computer screen, the letters ‘PARVATHI’ were surging like the ends of a saree. Back and forth wrapping the black letters ‘SHASHI’ and were moving….. Parvathi’s legs were shaken a little. His eyes that turned red and the way his gaze was fixed on the screen… In a second he sensed that somebody was around and quickly deleted the letters from the screen. When he turned back – he was aghast to see her. Parvathi recovered from the shock herself and rushed to her chamber. Initially she was furious. How dare he! Before she could think of anything he barged in. He started speaking hurriedly before she could say anything… she should not feel hurt…. She might ask him if he did not know what was proper and what was improper. But, he said, that special feeling one would get on meeting a person – the feeling of deep love and admission was experienced only once in a lifetime. It was not her fault, he said. He said he thought a lot about it but he was helpless. He said there was nothing wrong in loving a person who was passionate and who could inspire others. He said he was worried a lot that he would not be able to express his feelings to her. He thought he would not get a chance to do it at all. But, he said, his wish was fulfilled that day unexpectedly. He assured her that he would not disturb her in any way…..
When she witnessed the door, he closed behind him recklessly, banging a while and then slowly coming to a halt, she felt that her condition too was similar to that. In the three bed room apartment, practically she uses only two rooms – the bed room and the kitchen. She gets up at six in the morning and enters the kitchen. Once she steps into the kitchen she has to be there itself and cook food without making any noise. The clattering of the pots and pans is banned. The other two rooms are occupied by the students who come for coaching. It was Bhskar’s order that the students should not be disturbed. Walking softly, lest her feet should make a noise, she cooks food with utmost devotion. That is her duty. There is just no room for any other thought. At ten O’ clock she goes to office. Again by five O’ clock she is back in the world where there are no sounds, nor any room for listening to music or watching television. She has to remain as an embodiment of silence, like a statue. Bhaskar does not know any other world except his college and the tuition that he gives at home. There is no thought of anything else. When the whole life is spent being caught in the meaningless and tiring rate race where there is room not even for any conversation, suddenly there appeared a shower of words. There is a stream of thought, which never happened earlier. She took out from the drawer of her desk the newspaper cuttings that Shashikanth gave her many times in the past saying, ‘Have you read my latest poem, madam?’ She could see in every poem some word or other that was synonymous with her name ‘Parvathi’, incorporated somewhere or other very aptly turned page after page, she could see newer and newer angles. It was as if the old and worn out letters ‘LOVE’ were appearing new and going on changing their colour on the computer screen. Whenever he enters her room with a file, what she does usually is wishing him casually, signaling him to sit, signing the file seriously and getting back to her work. That day too as usual Shashikanth wished her as he entered the room. Parvathi felt a little nervous and lowered her head. Her hands were trembling a little. She tightened her fists. He left the file on the table and walked away. After half an hour when she was signing his leave letter she could not ask him, ‘Are you not well, Shashi?’ while leaving he left a cover on her table. She looked at that cover addressed to ‘Mrs. Parvathi’ for quite a long time. Was he apologizing? Did he say that he committed a mistake? What did he say? Parvathi opened the cover with trembling hands. There were lines written in a beautiful hand…
‘After several sleepless nights and days that were wet with tears….. about the sad experience he was compromised to, when reality struck him ….. about the secret love that had turned him into a poet but which he would never be able to experience ….
Another beautiful poetic excitement is what that letter was.
After reading the letter Parvathi folded the letter and put it in her bag. She felt like laughing, it was not known why. Not only for Shashi but also for her too would there be an opportunity to touch even the ends of that excitement? Parvathi opened her eyes and started staring at the ceiling. She imagined him to be standing on the other side of a huge, locked door. Perhaps she was thinking too much. She consoled herself…… After all we are human beings, aren’t we? We react….. We think …. And we act wisely……. She kept on looking at the fan that was running at a high speed and fell asleep after a long time.
* * *
When she was tidying up the kitchen without making any noise, Bhaskar screamed ‘Parvathi!’ As never before Bhaskar called her by name. Even before she could say ‘Yes’ he entered the kitchen. He has in his hands the letter written by Shashi. ‘You have no shame… you are educated but you don’t seem to have any culture ….’ Bhaskar’s face showed terrible hatred. Parvathi was scared. Before she could utter anything, Bhaskar caught her by her hair. He went on slapping her…. ‘chii….chii…’ what a shameful thing!’ He pushed her back hardly. Her head hit the kitchen platform and she fell down profusely bleeding. It’s a blessing that our mind works only up to the extent that it can tolerate the pain and sorrow. Parvathi remembered only her struggle to get some support when she was about to faint. When she opened her eyes after a long time, it was not known after how long it was, she found the house quite. She regained her consciousness when flies started hovering on the blood that flowed from her forehead. When she got up and entered the drawing room after washing her face, the phone started ringing. It was Mr. Sambhamurti, the manager at the other end. He said, ‘Shashi was arrested, madam?’
‘Why? What happened?’
Parvathi was perplexed.
‘It seems an SI from Seven Town police station raided Shashi’s apartment and found some banned literature in his possession. I am applying leave today, madam. I have to make arrangements to get Shashi released on bail.
‘Okay’ said Parvathi while hanging up.
Bhaskar must have approached his brother. One single letter…. What is this?… How did it all happen? …. Nothing did he ask her. He was not at all pained to suspect his wife. Did the person who had been living with him for many years not have as much value as that paper? The mere thought that somebody set his eyes on a thing that belonged to him, a thing on which he alone had every right, should drive him to take this extreme step? Infact who is she? She is not an individual by name Parvathi. She is just a doll bought by Bhaskar. She is a doll, which cooks food and gives him sexual pleasure when he turns the key on. She had never felt so miserable earlier even though her life was like a desert without any pleasures or friendly talk! She accommodated herself in it as naturally as one breathes. Her life, where she never left any room for the questions like ‘Why? What?’, itself became a question mark now.
Parvathi’s head was reeling. Why did Bhaskar go to that extent? He must have gone to his brother and poured out his woes. Immediately his brother must have got up, put on his uniform and taken Shashi into custody in the name of a raid. There is no wonder even if they had by now beaten Shashi black and blue in the name of interrogation. A police officer and an academic … in the opinion of both of them Parvathi is a woman who can easily make mistakes.
It was nothing but the headstrongness of these people who think that they can keep the power of decision-making in their own hands. How cruel!
Parvathi shivered from head to toe. She is an officer who can command fifty other officers with a mere signal from her eyes. She fell on her back helplessly with one slap. Tears welled in her eyes for the humiliation she suffered. Suddenly with a bang, the door was opened. There stood Bhaskar like an embodiment of fury.
‘What? … Are you feeling sorry for your paramour? Even your father cannot free him from jail. Within minutes my brother took action on him. If I don’t see his end…’ Bhaskar challenged.
‘You are mistaken… Actually…’
Before Parvathi could complete the sentence he pounced on her.
‘What…. So what if I am mistaken? Will you people kill me? Do you elope with him? …’ Listening to Bhaskar’s curses and abuses she leaned on to the wall. One does not expect to hear such strong language from Bhaskar whose command over the language is excellent as if he is a dear son of Goddess Saraswathi; and who spends all his time in the company of books. Bhaskar went on threatening her. He said that he had worked hard every minute and converted his blood into money to give every comfort to Parvathi. He made it very clear that he would teach Parvathi, who was highly arrogant, a lesson and declared that Shashi’s life would end in the prison itself. Until the doorbell rang Parvathi had to put up with all his outbursts of anger.
Mr. Sambamurthi, the manager, had come.
As he entered – for a second he was horrified to see the house with things strewn all over it and to find Parvathi sitting there as an embodiment of sorrow. But immediately he remembered his duty. He came to see Bhaskar.
As Bhaskar’s elder brother was dealing with the case he came to seek Bhaskar’s help in influencing him to free Shashi. It seemed that he did not know the truth.
“Mr. Bhaskar, Shashi is a gentleman…. He keeps to himself and doesn’t meddle with anybody’s affairs. He does his work in the office very sincerely…. He has the passion to write poetry but he does not have the courage to hide any banned literature..... He is a very simple man..."
Sambhamurthi went on and on. Bhaskar was sitting in the sofa with his face as hard as a rock.
“If Mr. Bhaskar puts a word they will grant him bail Mrs. Parvathi” – he said to her too.
As any gentleman would, Sambamurthi was feeling sorry that he had come at an odd time when the husband and wife seemed to have been fighting over something.
Inspite of all that agony, Parvathi could understand that though Mr. Sambhamurti was requesting Bhaskar to help him, as the head of the department she alone had the possibility of helping Shashi… Look at these men! For them a woman is a woman even if she is an officer. They think that a woman is of no use in such serious matters, as if these are the sort of things only men are capable of handling…… Parvathi came to a decision.
“Mr. Sambhamurti, you proceed to the office. I’ll try to get bail for Shashi. We will inform the head office and see what we can do.”
Sambhamurti realised the powers that Parvathi had, rather late. He offered an explanation timidly…
“You know…. I thought why should we involve the office in this matter…. anyway it was only Mr. Bhaskar’s elder brother ….. One word from him…”
“You make a move first. Take two of our UDCs for signing the register over there. I have told the cashier. Take ten thousand rupees. I am coming. You go first.” The officer in Parvathi awakened.
After Sambhamurti’s departure, there started the war behind the closed doors.
“You read the letter fully and then speak. Tell me if I am responsible for it….” Bhaskar’s reply to this was another four blows to Parvathi.
Bhaskar boasted that it was the last scene of the drama she enacted making him a fool and he had given it an end with a great twist and he was not going to allow her to live in peace and he would make her live the rest of her life wailing.
Parvathi did not get tears. Her mind was becoming insensitive, what with the rain of blows and all the abuses, which she never heard before. How to overcome the problem? What would happen to Shashi’s life once he entered the police records, booked in such cases? She was hurt that even after long years of married life there was room neither for friendship nor any trust. After many hours of deliberation she got up and took her bath. She made a trunk call to her brother Ravi in the very presence of Bhaskar. She asked him to come immediately as things were not all right at this place. When she was leaving Bhaskar yelled at her:
“Go!…. Shameless creature!….. You have no shame to have an affair…”
Ignoring him Parvathi walked out. For four days after that, she was too busy even to breathe. Ravi arrived the same day by evening. He and Bhaskar discussed the matter for hours together. Bhaskar swore that he would see the end of Parvathi for betraying him.
“What is this Parvathi? What have you done to yourself! I never thought that I would be discussing these things with you one day. How insulting Bhaskar’s remarks were! You heard him, didn’t you?….. But still he can’t be blamed…” said Ravi.
Parvathi did’t say anything. She remained silent as she could clearly see how the position of woman remained frozen at the same place where it had begun. Bhaskar gave wide publicity to the matter intentionally. Now she is a shameless woman in everybody’s eyes. She is a nasty woman who has an affair with somebody. Without thinking of anything, keeping her lips tight, Parvathi hurriedly finished all the work. Shashi was released on bail somehow, though the matter all most went up to CBCID. He was beaten black and blue in the jail. Ravi looked embarrassed when he went to the lawyer and to the police station. Only one thing he went on saying repeatedly. Parvathi used to be very modest when she was young. In his opinion, the younger Parvathi was good and well behaved. What is she now? She felt like roaring. What did she lose now afresh? It was only the cage that she thought until now she had. What she really lost was the bonds of slavery.
“Okay then. I’ll leave. You are a person who knows everything. The matter has crossed the threshold and reached the hostel. Anyway, keep calling…” said Ravi while packing his suitcase.
That was all. It meant that he wanted her not to visit his place. Parvathi was silent. She was used to live alone without speaking to anybody or making any noise. Ravi had left. She bought a few things that she required in the market and returned to the hostel.
The warden told her that she had a guest.
Shashi was sitting in the visitor’s room. He was taken aback when he found Parvathi pale and run down.
He said, ‘I will apply for transfer as early as possible.’
Parvathi looked at him with surprise. Shashi smiled.
He added hastily, “There is no problem. If I don’t get transferred I will resign.’
Parvathi asked him softly ‘Why?’
‘What is this Parvathi? It’s my responsibility’ – he said emotionally.
Parvathi became furious. ‘Don’t call me with singular Mr. Shashi. I’m not a responsibility to anyone.’ Shashi’s face turned pale.
‘Sorry madam. I’m responsible for the catastrophe in your life. If I don’t take any responsibility who else will’ said Shashi.
Parvathi laughed.
‘What are you thinking Mr. Shashi? It was an accident. That’s all. I met with an accident. Just like how one loses an eye or a limb, I have lost the opportunity to live in the world that belonged to me. That’s all. Mr. Shashi, I can understand you. Your affection, your emotions – all that is something purely your personal. It is the make-believe world you have created yourself. How can I enter that world? I have a share in neither your thoughts nor your dreams. In fact I have never thought that way about you. This matter can be considered only if I feel that I can’t live without that person. So, in a way I’m grateful to you. You have given me an opportunity to enter a divine world of which I did not know anything earlier. Believe me, I am entering that world on my own free-will. Bhaskar, who hurt both my body and soul, did me a favour too. I have now realilsed that I am an individual, “ said Parvathi.
‘What is that divine world you talked about madam?’ asked Shashi.
Parvathi smiled.
‘Oh, that one – ‘freedom’….’
Looking at Parvathi who was smiling, Shashi folded his hands. Through the window in the east a naughty breeze entered the room and caressed Parvathi’s tresses.
- - - - - - -
It was a pleasant feeling that those letters were growing bigger and bigger in size and were encircling her and leaving her alternatively. If a shape were given to a wish it would perhaps have the power to pierce the heart. Parvathi restlessly turned in the bed from one side to another. Bhaskar was sleeping at a distance that her hand could reach. She looked at him seriously for a while. She had a guilty feeling somewhere in her heart. ‘Does he have any secret in his life?’ ‘It cannot have an answer’ pat came the reply.
Where is the chance? From the time he gets up in the morning he teaches three batches of students for three hours, one hour each batch. Then he goes to college. In the evening he comes home, takes a cup of tea and starts teaching again. As far as EAMCET coaching is concerned there is no one who is better than him. In his life there is just no room for any feelings or emotions. Then what about her restlessness? Her very thinking in those lines is wrong. She closed her eyes and tried hard to sleep. Though she says ‘no!’ ‘no!’ that scene appears in front of her eyes again and again.
- - - - - - -
The phone in the computer section seemed to be dead. She had got irritated by trying for it several times and finally went there personally. When she went there, he alone was there trying some new design on the computer. Out of curiosity, she stepped forward without disturbing him. On the computer screen, the letters ‘PARVATHI’ were surging like the ends of a saree. Back and forth wrapping the black letters ‘SHASHI’ and were moving….. Parvathi’s legs were shaken a little. His eyes that turned red and the way his gaze was fixed on the screen… In a second he sensed that somebody was around and quickly deleted the letters from the screen. When he turned back – he was aghast to see her. Parvathi recovered from the shock herself and rushed to her chamber. Initially she was furious. How dare he! Before she could think of anything he barged in. He started speaking hurriedly before she could say anything… she should not feel hurt…. She might ask him if he did not know what was proper and what was improper. But, he said, that special feeling one would get on meeting a person – the feeling of deep love and admission was experienced only once in a lifetime. It was not her fault, he said. He said he thought a lot about it but he was helpless. He said there was nothing wrong in loving a person who was passionate and who could inspire others. He said he was worried a lot that he would not be able to express his feelings to her. He thought he would not get a chance to do it at all. But, he said, his wish was fulfilled that day unexpectedly. He assured her that he would not disturb her in any way…..
When she witnessed the door, he closed behind him recklessly, banging a while and then slowly coming to a halt, she felt that her condition too was similar to that. In the three bed room apartment, practically she uses only two rooms – the bed room and the kitchen. She gets up at six in the morning and enters the kitchen. Once she steps into the kitchen she has to be there itself and cook food without making any noise. The clattering of the pots and pans is banned. The other two rooms are occupied by the students who come for coaching. It was Bhskar’s order that the students should not be disturbed. Walking softly, lest her feet should make a noise, she cooks food with utmost devotion. That is her duty. There is just no room for any other thought. At ten O’ clock she goes to office. Again by five O’ clock she is back in the world where there are no sounds, nor any room for listening to music or watching television. She has to remain as an embodiment of silence, like a statue. Bhaskar does not know any other world except his college and the tuition that he gives at home. There is no thought of anything else. When the whole life is spent being caught in the meaningless and tiring rate race where there is room not even for any conversation, suddenly there appeared a shower of words. There is a stream of thought, which never happened earlier. She took out from the drawer of her desk the newspaper cuttings that Shashikanth gave her many times in the past saying, ‘Have you read my latest poem, madam?’ She could see in every poem some word or other that was synonymous with her name ‘Parvathi’, incorporated somewhere or other very aptly turned page after page, she could see newer and newer angles. It was as if the old and worn out letters ‘LOVE’ were appearing new and going on changing their colour on the computer screen. Whenever he enters her room with a file, what she does usually is wishing him casually, signaling him to sit, signing the file seriously and getting back to her work. That day too as usual Shashikanth wished her as he entered the room. Parvathi felt a little nervous and lowered her head. Her hands were trembling a little. She tightened her fists. He left the file on the table and walked away. After half an hour when she was signing his leave letter she could not ask him, ‘Are you not well, Shashi?’ while leaving he left a cover on her table. She looked at that cover addressed to ‘Mrs. Parvathi’ for quite a long time. Was he apologizing? Did he say that he committed a mistake? What did he say? Parvathi opened the cover with trembling hands. There were lines written in a beautiful hand…
‘After several sleepless nights and days that were wet with tears….. about the sad experience he was compromised to, when reality struck him ….. about the secret love that had turned him into a poet but which he would never be able to experience ….
Another beautiful poetic excitement is what that letter was.
After reading the letter Parvathi folded the letter and put it in her bag. She felt like laughing, it was not known why. Not only for Shashi but also for her too would there be an opportunity to touch even the ends of that excitement? Parvathi opened her eyes and started staring at the ceiling. She imagined him to be standing on the other side of a huge, locked door. Perhaps she was thinking too much. She consoled herself…… After all we are human beings, aren’t we? We react….. We think …. And we act wisely……. She kept on looking at the fan that was running at a high speed and fell asleep after a long time.
* * *
When she was tidying up the kitchen without making any noise, Bhaskar screamed ‘Parvathi!’ As never before Bhaskar called her by name. Even before she could say ‘Yes’ he entered the kitchen. He has in his hands the letter written by Shashi. ‘You have no shame… you are educated but you don’t seem to have any culture ….’ Bhaskar’s face showed terrible hatred. Parvathi was scared. Before she could utter anything, Bhaskar caught her by her hair. He went on slapping her…. ‘chii….chii…’ what a shameful thing!’ He pushed her back hardly. Her head hit the kitchen platform and she fell down profusely bleeding. It’s a blessing that our mind works only up to the extent that it can tolerate the pain and sorrow. Parvathi remembered only her struggle to get some support when she was about to faint. When she opened her eyes after a long time, it was not known after how long it was, she found the house quite. She regained her consciousness when flies started hovering on the blood that flowed from her forehead. When she got up and entered the drawing room after washing her face, the phone started ringing. It was Mr. Sambhamurti, the manager at the other end. He said, ‘Shashi was arrested, madam?’
‘Why? What happened?’
Parvathi was perplexed.
‘It seems an SI from Seven Town police station raided Shashi’s apartment and found some banned literature in his possession. I am applying leave today, madam. I have to make arrangements to get Shashi released on bail.
‘Okay’ said Parvathi while hanging up.
Bhaskar must have approached his brother. One single letter…. What is this?… How did it all happen? …. Nothing did he ask her. He was not at all pained to suspect his wife. Did the person who had been living with him for many years not have as much value as that paper? The mere thought that somebody set his eyes on a thing that belonged to him, a thing on which he alone had every right, should drive him to take this extreme step? Infact who is she? She is not an individual by name Parvathi. She is just a doll bought by Bhaskar. She is a doll, which cooks food and gives him sexual pleasure when he turns the key on. She had never felt so miserable earlier even though her life was like a desert without any pleasures or friendly talk! She accommodated herself in it as naturally as one breathes. Her life, where she never left any room for the questions like ‘Why? What?’, itself became a question mark now.
Parvathi’s head was reeling. Why did Bhaskar go to that extent? He must have gone to his brother and poured out his woes. Immediately his brother must have got up, put on his uniform and taken Shashi into custody in the name of a raid. There is no wonder even if they had by now beaten Shashi black and blue in the name of interrogation. A police officer and an academic … in the opinion of both of them Parvathi is a woman who can easily make mistakes.
It was nothing but the headstrongness of these people who think that they can keep the power of decision-making in their own hands. How cruel!
Parvathi shivered from head to toe. She is an officer who can command fifty other officers with a mere signal from her eyes. She fell on her back helplessly with one slap. Tears welled in her eyes for the humiliation she suffered. Suddenly with a bang, the door was opened. There stood Bhaskar like an embodiment of fury.
‘What? … Are you feeling sorry for your paramour? Even your father cannot free him from jail. Within minutes my brother took action on him. If I don’t see his end…’ Bhaskar challenged.
‘You are mistaken… Actually…’
Before Parvathi could complete the sentence he pounced on her.
‘What…. So what if I am mistaken? Will you people kill me? Do you elope with him? …’ Listening to Bhaskar’s curses and abuses she leaned on to the wall. One does not expect to hear such strong language from Bhaskar whose command over the language is excellent as if he is a dear son of Goddess Saraswathi; and who spends all his time in the company of books. Bhaskar went on threatening her. He said that he had worked hard every minute and converted his blood into money to give every comfort to Parvathi. He made it very clear that he would teach Parvathi, who was highly arrogant, a lesson and declared that Shashi’s life would end in the prison itself. Until the doorbell rang Parvathi had to put up with all his outbursts of anger.
Mr. Sambamurthi, the manager, had come.
As he entered – for a second he was horrified to see the house with things strewn all over it and to find Parvathi sitting there as an embodiment of sorrow. But immediately he remembered his duty. He came to see Bhaskar.
As Bhaskar’s elder brother was dealing with the case he came to seek Bhaskar’s help in influencing him to free Shashi. It seemed that he did not know the truth.
“Mr. Bhaskar, Shashi is a gentleman…. He keeps to himself and doesn’t meddle with anybody’s affairs. He does his work in the office very sincerely…. He has the passion to write poetry but he does not have the courage to hide any banned literature..... He is a very simple man..."
Sambhamurthi went on and on. Bhaskar was sitting in the sofa with his face as hard as a rock.
“If Mr. Bhaskar puts a word they will grant him bail Mrs. Parvathi” – he said to her too.
As any gentleman would, Sambamurthi was feeling sorry that he had come at an odd time when the husband and wife seemed to have been fighting over something.
Inspite of all that agony, Parvathi could understand that though Mr. Sambhamurti was requesting Bhaskar to help him, as the head of the department she alone had the possibility of helping Shashi… Look at these men! For them a woman is a woman even if she is an officer. They think that a woman is of no use in such serious matters, as if these are the sort of things only men are capable of handling…… Parvathi came to a decision.
“Mr. Sambhamurti, you proceed to the office. I’ll try to get bail for Shashi. We will inform the head office and see what we can do.”
Sambhamurti realised the powers that Parvathi had, rather late. He offered an explanation timidly…
“You know…. I thought why should we involve the office in this matter…. anyway it was only Mr. Bhaskar’s elder brother ….. One word from him…”
“You make a move first. Take two of our UDCs for signing the register over there. I have told the cashier. Take ten thousand rupees. I am coming. You go first.” The officer in Parvathi awakened.
After Sambhamurti’s departure, there started the war behind the closed doors.
“You read the letter fully and then speak. Tell me if I am responsible for it….” Bhaskar’s reply to this was another four blows to Parvathi.
Bhaskar boasted that it was the last scene of the drama she enacted making him a fool and he had given it an end with a great twist and he was not going to allow her to live in peace and he would make her live the rest of her life wailing.
Parvathi did not get tears. Her mind was becoming insensitive, what with the rain of blows and all the abuses, which she never heard before. How to overcome the problem? What would happen to Shashi’s life once he entered the police records, booked in such cases? She was hurt that even after long years of married life there was room neither for friendship nor any trust. After many hours of deliberation she got up and took her bath. She made a trunk call to her brother Ravi in the very presence of Bhaskar. She asked him to come immediately as things were not all right at this place. When she was leaving Bhaskar yelled at her:
“Go!…. Shameless creature!….. You have no shame to have an affair…”
Ignoring him Parvathi walked out. For four days after that, she was too busy even to breathe. Ravi arrived the same day by evening. He and Bhaskar discussed the matter for hours together. Bhaskar swore that he would see the end of Parvathi for betraying him.
“What is this Parvathi? What have you done to yourself! I never thought that I would be discussing these things with you one day. How insulting Bhaskar’s remarks were! You heard him, didn’t you?….. But still he can’t be blamed…” said Ravi.
Parvathi did’t say anything. She remained silent as she could clearly see how the position of woman remained frozen at the same place where it had begun. Bhaskar gave wide publicity to the matter intentionally. Now she is a shameless woman in everybody’s eyes. She is a nasty woman who has an affair with somebody. Without thinking of anything, keeping her lips tight, Parvathi hurriedly finished all the work. Shashi was released on bail somehow, though the matter all most went up to CBCID. He was beaten black and blue in the jail. Ravi looked embarrassed when he went to the lawyer and to the police station. Only one thing he went on saying repeatedly. Parvathi used to be very modest when she was young. In his opinion, the younger Parvathi was good and well behaved. What is she now? She felt like roaring. What did she lose now afresh? It was only the cage that she thought until now she had. What she really lost was the bonds of slavery.
“Okay then. I’ll leave. You are a person who knows everything. The matter has crossed the threshold and reached the hostel. Anyway, keep calling…” said Ravi while packing his suitcase.
That was all. It meant that he wanted her not to visit his place. Parvathi was silent. She was used to live alone without speaking to anybody or making any noise. Ravi had left. She bought a few things that she required in the market and returned to the hostel.
The warden told her that she had a guest.
Shashi was sitting in the visitor’s room. He was taken aback when he found Parvathi pale and run down.
He said, ‘I will apply for transfer as early as possible.’
Parvathi looked at him with surprise. Shashi smiled.
He added hastily, “There is no problem. If I don’t get transferred I will resign.’
Parvathi asked him softly ‘Why?’
‘What is this Parvathi? It’s my responsibility’ – he said emotionally.
Parvathi became furious. ‘Don’t call me with singular Mr. Shashi. I’m not a responsibility to anyone.’ Shashi’s face turned pale.
‘Sorry madam. I’m responsible for the catastrophe in your life. If I don’t take any responsibility who else will’ said Shashi.
Parvathi laughed.
‘What are you thinking Mr. Shashi? It was an accident. That’s all. I met with an accident. Just like how one loses an eye or a limb, I have lost the opportunity to live in the world that belonged to me. That’s all. Mr. Shashi, I can understand you. Your affection, your emotions – all that is something purely your personal. It is the make-believe world you have created yourself. How can I enter that world? I have a share in neither your thoughts nor your dreams. In fact I have never thought that way about you. This matter can be considered only if I feel that I can’t live without that person. So, in a way I’m grateful to you. You have given me an opportunity to enter a divine world of which I did not know anything earlier. Believe me, I am entering that world on my own free-will. Bhaskar, who hurt both my body and soul, did me a favour too. I have now realilsed that I am an individual, “ said Parvathi.
‘What is that divine world you talked about madam?’ asked Shashi.
Parvathi smiled.
‘Oh, that one – ‘freedom’….’
Looking at Parvathi who was smiling, Shashi folded his hands. Through the window in the east a naughty breeze entered the room and caressed Parvathi’s tresses.
- - - - - - -
Translated from Telugu by Dr. Haribandi Lakshmi, EFL University
It was raining cats and dogs when the office was closed for the day. I was standing in the canteen, sipping tea and wondering whether I would be able to catch the bus. At that moment Sundarama appeared there and proposed to me. I only felt the blood suddenly rush into my face but nothing more.
‘You too want it, don’t you?’ he asked.
He wanted to reassure himself. What would I say? I just nodded my head. He blushed. Wiping the water trickling down his eyes with a handkerchief he said, ‘Okay then! We will meet again.’ Waving his hand he disappeared in the rain. I stood there rooted to the spot.
The way he rushed out without even bothering to ask me, ‘how do you go?’ really irritated me. But there was little that I could do about it. There was no use getting angry with him, as I knew his nature very well. I thought of enjoying myself for sometime by indulging in an imaginary poetic and romantic excursion with Sundaram.
…Down pour …….. solitude …..then enters Sundaram …… I couldn’t think any further. Can you ever be lonely? Is there any chance for fantasy? The cook in the canteen was shouting at the top of his voice at his assistant.
“I won’t go in the rain to fetch the tumblers” said the boy.
‘If you don’t go I will thrash you to death’ shouted the cook angrily.
It was against this background that I heard Sundaram’s proposal. Unmindful of the happenings around me, I wanted to imagine a romantic scene with Sundaram while sipping a cup of hot tea. But no avail….. My attention was drawn again and again to the unclean canteen and the teacups piled up in the sink…. No use….. Then it became clear that I was no poetic genius. For a second, I toyed with the idea of flying on the wings of fantasy while walking in the rain, revealing my slender silver anklets. But my ironed saree would get crumpled. Quite a lot of money was spent every month on ironing alone. With a deep sigh I put an end to the action part and came to reality, only to be stared by a host of problems.
‘Next month we’ll shift to a place of our own Vijaya’ said Sundaram.
It was much better. He proposed to me in a better way than the routine, ‘will you marry me?’ But I didn’t know where to shift? Sundaram was living in a single room somewhere at the other end of the world. On tope of it, there were two other bachelors sharing the room with him. So our living there was out of the question. We had to rent a house. It would be very convenient if it was close to the office. But rents were very high in that area as it was a posh colony. First of all my room in the working women’s hostel was to be vacated. I didn’t know cooking. I only knew how to eat if mother or a cook did it for me. After marrying Sundaram I would have to get up early in the morning to cook food for both of us and to attend to all other domestic chores……. Again my thoughts had gone astray. When I was happily getting married to Sundaram why think of all those damn things….. Chii! Chii! Were these the so-called sweet dreams? He and I merrily becoming flowers among flowers…….
By the way, after working hard in the office the whole day would it be possible for me to have any energy left for outings or even to chat with him in the everning? I was not sure! For a while I was angry with myself. When Sundaram proposed to me after three long years of friendship was I in a position to translate my happiness into sweet dreams?
I could hardly suppress my laughter when I recalled how Sundaram proposed to me. The way he looked at me and called me in a soft voice, contrary to his usual commanding tone, as his hands were trembling slightly due to nervousness, made me burst out laughing. Then brushing aside all thoughts I paid attention to the shining raindrops, the fluttering of the soft leaves as the rain drops fall on them and the drops of water slipping down from the leaves. But the same anxiety started pricking me again.
Couldn’t I be romantic? Couldn’t I experience the love within myself? Was this experience to be so dull and dry?
One thing I could surely tell you. I was thinking more of the daily chores at home than the pleasant moments and was naturally terrified.
A month passed by quickly. Many things happened in a jiffy – finding a house and the arrival of the happy parents, both his and mine. I was more confused by the comments made by the guests. At lunch they said, ‘the salaries of these two in this town would just be enough to pay the rent and make both ends meet’. Long after we came out of the registrar’s office, our friends and relatives went their ways leaving Sundaram and me alone in the new house.
‘Vijaya, how do you find this house?’ asked Sundaram.
I felt like saying ‘wonderful, excellent’ running around the room but I couldn’t because every inch of space in the room was occupied by all sorts of bags and boxes. There were several odd things – buckets, mats and pillows brought from Sundaram’s room, cardboard boxes brought from my hostel room and the kitchenware we both bought together. I killed my desire to run around and asked Sundaram disinterestedly ‘are we going to unpack these things now?’
‘No, no, let’s leave them as they are. We can do that later…. later’ replied Sundaram hastily.
There were only two rooms – a tiny kitchen and a small bed room. How could it be done later? Reluctantly we started the work. All the things were pushed to the walls and the room was swept clean. When we were about to settle down we realised suddenly that there were no bulbs in the house and the fan too was to be fixed. Cursing ourselves we opened a box and took out the different parts of a fan. An electrician was called to install the fan and the bulbs too were bought. At last we had lights and a fan in the house. Fortunately at that moment we realilsed that we were already feeling hungry and we should get our dinner from a restaurant. We bought plenty of food to eat that night and discussed at length the difference between the restaurant food and the canteen food and the price variation. Life afterwards flew on the wings of the wind. Why not with the sort of things – not going to bed until very late at night, getting up very late in the morning and rushing to office with no time to make even a cup of coffee, leave alone cooking food….. Time flies, doesn’t it?
Friends used to drop in at all times. Sundaram and I used to chat with them vying with each other. But when it came to the question of who would make tea or who would clean the cups we used to fight with each other so much that there were several occasions when we even thought of taking a divorce. We would find every new book that came to the market wonderful and would buy it though it meant going without vegetables for a few days.
As life was going on in full swing with occasional quarrelling over trivial matters I fell ill one day. With giddiness and head reeling I just couldn’t get up. Sundaram got scared and immediately rushed me to a hospital. At the hospital on noticing Sundaram’s grim face the lady doctor told him, ‘it’s no ailment gentleman, no medicines are required for this. Vijaya is going to give birth to a beautiful baby’. At once Sundaram’s face lit up. Later when we were waiting at the bus stop, looking at the crowded buses going fast without stopping Sundaram asked me, ‘shall we take an auto?’
Both of us thought of the salary we would be getting only after three days.
Looking into my face fondly Sundaram asked, ‘how do you feel about it Vijaya?’
What could I say? Due to giddiness it was all dark before my eyes. If morning sickness starts making me weak how would I cope with the office work? If I were to go on leave on loss of pay how would we manage? All these thoughts crowded my mind and disturbed me when I learnt that I was going to have a baby. I wondered whether they were the sort of things one dreams about while expecting a baby.
How come life is so bitter! When I made this remark, Sundaram cut an insipid joke, ‘that is precisely the reason why they say the pregnant women should eat something sour.’
Believe me then onwards the time moved slowly at a snail’s pace. I used to get exhausted with the office work alone. Poor Sundaram, he had to do all the work at home besides putting up with my sighs. Somehow we pulled on! I had to go for scanning as the doctor said it was necessary to know the baby’s position and health.
When you knew that it was going to be a girl and the precise date and time of the baby’s arrival what was left to look forward to? The time rolled by mechanically without any colourful dreams.
When I was about to apply for maternity leave, two holidays – the usual weekly off and a festival holiday came in a succession. I decided to go to office one more day with the apprehension that unless I worked for a day after those two days, they too would get included in my period of leave. That day though I was sick and the doctor said I might go into labour any moment I went to office only to save those two days of leave. I signed the register with an unnatural smile on my face and went about my work. Suddenly I started sweating profusely. The labour pains soon followed. What a terrible plight just to save two days of leave! I didn’t know for certain how I took permission and in what language I expressed my pain, but eventually I got myself admitted in the hospital.
‘Do you have any sense left in your head? How could you go to office when you were almost in labour?’ The doctor went on scolding me. While listening to her I gave birth to a baby.
Sundaram and I discussed for hours together several different things – the baby’s features, the hospital bill, the list of things that are to be bought immediately and the other expenses to be incurred. Sundaram’s mother had come from the village to help us and stayed with us for quite some time. She voluntarily took the entire responsibility of looking after the baby and the daily chores at home too on her shoulders. I started going to work when the leave was over. There in the office I would feel like suckling the baby every two hours. I used to get tormented when I think of the baby’s tiny fingers and the lips that impatiently try to reach the nipples. I would get depressed by the end of the day. When I reached home in the evening my mother-in-law would give me something hot to eat. Sundaram and I played with the baby making more noise than the kids do.
Slowly we ceased to find any pleasure in that. It was just one single room with four persons occupying it – Sundaram, his mother, the baby and I. And what more, the door opens right on to the street. Sundaram and I had no privacy even for five minutes. Poor thing, my mother-in-law could understand our plight. But there was no solution in sight for the problem.
In the evening after returning from office Sundaram would say with a deep sigh, ‘Life has become barren Vijaya!’
What would I say? ….. Whether you said it or not it was the problem. If his mother were to go back to the village who would look after the baby? How long can we live like this in this tiny congested house? How long can fathers-in-law live alone in the village? Life has always been a puzzle for us.
Mother-in-law came out with a proposal, ‘shall I take the baby with me?’
I was startled. How can I send the baby with her? The baby who was barely five months old started recognizing me and would jump into my arms. I would love to see her grow up.
After retiring as a teacher father-in-law was forced to give tuition to make both ends meet. My mother, who was asthmatic, had great difficulty in breathing and was reduced to her bones. With my father’s meager earnings my parental home was always poverty-stricken. To top it all my own scanty dwelling here in the town! If at all I had anything precious in my life it was only the baby and, of course Sundaram.
We depended solely on our salary, which was weighed meticulously against the amount of work we did. Anything that would cost money was simply not within our reach. Right from birth we learnt to live only with one mantra – compromising with ourselves.
What was to be given utmost priority under the circumstances? – Keeping the baby with us or the privacy Sundaram and I would get or the money that we would be saving if the child was sent along with its grandma. The very thought of sending the baby away made me cry inconsolably. Both of them, the mother who gave birth to Sundaram and the baby I gave birth to, became a burden to us. Next morning my mother-in-law packed her own bag and the baby’s kit. I started sobing.
‘Don’t worry! I’ll take good care of the baby. The cost of living in villages is not as high as it is in towns’, she said rather consolingly.
I remained silent but nothing could stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. I alone knew why I cried. Sundaram and I went to the bus station to put them in a bus and see them off. The sight of the baby being taken away from me left a deep wound in my heart. After they left, the whole house became empty. There was plenty of privacy, more than what was needed for Sundaram and me. On returning home from office, lying on his back on a mat Sundaram said after a deep thought.
‘Life has become a terrible void Vijaya!’
I knew it too what that void was and why. Only thing was I didn’t know how to fill that void.
- - - - - - -
It was raining cats and dogs when the office was closed for the day. I was standing in the canteen, sipping tea and wondering whether I would be able to catch the bus. At that moment Sundarama appeared there and proposed to me. I only felt the blood suddenly rush into my face but nothing more.
‘You too want it, don’t you?’ he asked.
He wanted to reassure himself. What would I say? I just nodded my head. He blushed. Wiping the water trickling down his eyes with a handkerchief he said, ‘Okay then! We will meet again.’ Waving his hand he disappeared in the rain. I stood there rooted to the spot.
The way he rushed out without even bothering to ask me, ‘how do you go?’ really irritated me. But there was little that I could do about it. There was no use getting angry with him, as I knew his nature very well. I thought of enjoying myself for sometime by indulging in an imaginary poetic and romantic excursion with Sundaram.
…Down pour …….. solitude …..then enters Sundaram …… I couldn’t think any further. Can you ever be lonely? Is there any chance for fantasy? The cook in the canteen was shouting at the top of his voice at his assistant.
“I won’t go in the rain to fetch the tumblers” said the boy.
‘If you don’t go I will thrash you to death’ shouted the cook angrily.
It was against this background that I heard Sundaram’s proposal. Unmindful of the happenings around me, I wanted to imagine a romantic scene with Sundaram while sipping a cup of hot tea. But no avail….. My attention was drawn again and again to the unclean canteen and the teacups piled up in the sink…. No use….. Then it became clear that I was no poetic genius. For a second, I toyed with the idea of flying on the wings of fantasy while walking in the rain, revealing my slender silver anklets. But my ironed saree would get crumpled. Quite a lot of money was spent every month on ironing alone. With a deep sigh I put an end to the action part and came to reality, only to be stared by a host of problems.
‘Next month we’ll shift to a place of our own Vijaya’ said Sundaram.
It was much better. He proposed to me in a better way than the routine, ‘will you marry me?’ But I didn’t know where to shift? Sundaram was living in a single room somewhere at the other end of the world. On tope of it, there were two other bachelors sharing the room with him. So our living there was out of the question. We had to rent a house. It would be very convenient if it was close to the office. But rents were very high in that area as it was a posh colony. First of all my room in the working women’s hostel was to be vacated. I didn’t know cooking. I only knew how to eat if mother or a cook did it for me. After marrying Sundaram I would have to get up early in the morning to cook food for both of us and to attend to all other domestic chores……. Again my thoughts had gone astray. When I was happily getting married to Sundaram why think of all those damn things….. Chii! Chii! Were these the so-called sweet dreams? He and I merrily becoming flowers among flowers…….
By the way, after working hard in the office the whole day would it be possible for me to have any energy left for outings or even to chat with him in the everning? I was not sure! For a while I was angry with myself. When Sundaram proposed to me after three long years of friendship was I in a position to translate my happiness into sweet dreams?
I could hardly suppress my laughter when I recalled how Sundaram proposed to me. The way he looked at me and called me in a soft voice, contrary to his usual commanding tone, as his hands were trembling slightly due to nervousness, made me burst out laughing. Then brushing aside all thoughts I paid attention to the shining raindrops, the fluttering of the soft leaves as the rain drops fall on them and the drops of water slipping down from the leaves. But the same anxiety started pricking me again.
Couldn’t I be romantic? Couldn’t I experience the love within myself? Was this experience to be so dull and dry?
One thing I could surely tell you. I was thinking more of the daily chores at home than the pleasant moments and was naturally terrified.
A month passed by quickly. Many things happened in a jiffy – finding a house and the arrival of the happy parents, both his and mine. I was more confused by the comments made by the guests. At lunch they said, ‘the salaries of these two in this town would just be enough to pay the rent and make both ends meet’. Long after we came out of the registrar’s office, our friends and relatives went their ways leaving Sundaram and me alone in the new house.
‘Vijaya, how do you find this house?’ asked Sundaram.
I felt like saying ‘wonderful, excellent’ running around the room but I couldn’t because every inch of space in the room was occupied by all sorts of bags and boxes. There were several odd things – buckets, mats and pillows brought from Sundaram’s room, cardboard boxes brought from my hostel room and the kitchenware we both bought together. I killed my desire to run around and asked Sundaram disinterestedly ‘are we going to unpack these things now?’
‘No, no, let’s leave them as they are. We can do that later…. later’ replied Sundaram hastily.
There were only two rooms – a tiny kitchen and a small bed room. How could it be done later? Reluctantly we started the work. All the things were pushed to the walls and the room was swept clean. When we were about to settle down we realised suddenly that there were no bulbs in the house and the fan too was to be fixed. Cursing ourselves we opened a box and took out the different parts of a fan. An electrician was called to install the fan and the bulbs too were bought. At last we had lights and a fan in the house. Fortunately at that moment we realilsed that we were already feeling hungry and we should get our dinner from a restaurant. We bought plenty of food to eat that night and discussed at length the difference between the restaurant food and the canteen food and the price variation. Life afterwards flew on the wings of the wind. Why not with the sort of things – not going to bed until very late at night, getting up very late in the morning and rushing to office with no time to make even a cup of coffee, leave alone cooking food….. Time flies, doesn’t it?
Friends used to drop in at all times. Sundaram and I used to chat with them vying with each other. But when it came to the question of who would make tea or who would clean the cups we used to fight with each other so much that there were several occasions when we even thought of taking a divorce. We would find every new book that came to the market wonderful and would buy it though it meant going without vegetables for a few days.
As life was going on in full swing with occasional quarrelling over trivial matters I fell ill one day. With giddiness and head reeling I just couldn’t get up. Sundaram got scared and immediately rushed me to a hospital. At the hospital on noticing Sundaram’s grim face the lady doctor told him, ‘it’s no ailment gentleman, no medicines are required for this. Vijaya is going to give birth to a beautiful baby’. At once Sundaram’s face lit up. Later when we were waiting at the bus stop, looking at the crowded buses going fast without stopping Sundaram asked me, ‘shall we take an auto?’
Both of us thought of the salary we would be getting only after three days.
Looking into my face fondly Sundaram asked, ‘how do you feel about it Vijaya?’
What could I say? Due to giddiness it was all dark before my eyes. If morning sickness starts making me weak how would I cope with the office work? If I were to go on leave on loss of pay how would we manage? All these thoughts crowded my mind and disturbed me when I learnt that I was going to have a baby. I wondered whether they were the sort of things one dreams about while expecting a baby.
How come life is so bitter! When I made this remark, Sundaram cut an insipid joke, ‘that is precisely the reason why they say the pregnant women should eat something sour.’
Believe me then onwards the time moved slowly at a snail’s pace. I used to get exhausted with the office work alone. Poor Sundaram, he had to do all the work at home besides putting up with my sighs. Somehow we pulled on! I had to go for scanning as the doctor said it was necessary to know the baby’s position and health.
When you knew that it was going to be a girl and the precise date and time of the baby’s arrival what was left to look forward to? The time rolled by mechanically without any colourful dreams.
When I was about to apply for maternity leave, two holidays – the usual weekly off and a festival holiday came in a succession. I decided to go to office one more day with the apprehension that unless I worked for a day after those two days, they too would get included in my period of leave. That day though I was sick and the doctor said I might go into labour any moment I went to office only to save those two days of leave. I signed the register with an unnatural smile on my face and went about my work. Suddenly I started sweating profusely. The labour pains soon followed. What a terrible plight just to save two days of leave! I didn’t know for certain how I took permission and in what language I expressed my pain, but eventually I got myself admitted in the hospital.
‘Do you have any sense left in your head? How could you go to office when you were almost in labour?’ The doctor went on scolding me. While listening to her I gave birth to a baby.
Sundaram and I discussed for hours together several different things – the baby’s features, the hospital bill, the list of things that are to be bought immediately and the other expenses to be incurred. Sundaram’s mother had come from the village to help us and stayed with us for quite some time. She voluntarily took the entire responsibility of looking after the baby and the daily chores at home too on her shoulders. I started going to work when the leave was over. There in the office I would feel like suckling the baby every two hours. I used to get tormented when I think of the baby’s tiny fingers and the lips that impatiently try to reach the nipples. I would get depressed by the end of the day. When I reached home in the evening my mother-in-law would give me something hot to eat. Sundaram and I played with the baby making more noise than the kids do.
Slowly we ceased to find any pleasure in that. It was just one single room with four persons occupying it – Sundaram, his mother, the baby and I. And what more, the door opens right on to the street. Sundaram and I had no privacy even for five minutes. Poor thing, my mother-in-law could understand our plight. But there was no solution in sight for the problem.
In the evening after returning from office Sundaram would say with a deep sigh, ‘Life has become barren Vijaya!’
What would I say? ….. Whether you said it or not it was the problem. If his mother were to go back to the village who would look after the baby? How long can we live like this in this tiny congested house? How long can fathers-in-law live alone in the village? Life has always been a puzzle for us.
Mother-in-law came out with a proposal, ‘shall I take the baby with me?’
I was startled. How can I send the baby with her? The baby who was barely five months old started recognizing me and would jump into my arms. I would love to see her grow up.
After retiring as a teacher father-in-law was forced to give tuition to make both ends meet. My mother, who was asthmatic, had great difficulty in breathing and was reduced to her bones. With my father’s meager earnings my parental home was always poverty-stricken. To top it all my own scanty dwelling here in the town! If at all I had anything precious in my life it was only the baby and, of course Sundaram.
We depended solely on our salary, which was weighed meticulously against the amount of work we did. Anything that would cost money was simply not within our reach. Right from birth we learnt to live only with one mantra – compromising with ourselves.
What was to be given utmost priority under the circumstances? – Keeping the baby with us or the privacy Sundaram and I would get or the money that we would be saving if the child was sent along with its grandma. The very thought of sending the baby away made me cry inconsolably. Both of them, the mother who gave birth to Sundaram and the baby I gave birth to, became a burden to us. Next morning my mother-in-law packed her own bag and the baby’s kit. I started sobing.
‘Don’t worry! I’ll take good care of the baby. The cost of living in villages is not as high as it is in towns’, she said rather consolingly.
I remained silent but nothing could stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. I alone knew why I cried. Sundaram and I went to the bus station to put them in a bus and see them off. The sight of the baby being taken away from me left a deep wound in my heart. After they left, the whole house became empty. There was plenty of privacy, more than what was needed for Sundaram and me. On returning home from office, lying on his back on a mat Sundaram said after a deep thought.
‘Life has become a terrible void Vijaya!’
I knew it too what that void was and why. Only thing was I didn’t know how to fill that void.
- - - - - - -
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Translated from Telugu by Dr. Haribandi Lakshmi, EFL University
”Chinnatalli…. Come here… Do you want a new mother or this old mother?”
Chinnatalli looked up at her mother who was serving her idlies.
We don’t know what she witnessed in the large eyes of her mother which were like waterpools, she said moving her eyes to the right and the left “I want the old mother”.
Rao laughed aloud.
“Okay, sanctioned. Your daughter has voted for you dear. Your job is permanent”.
Janaki laughed. The house was full of laughter. Chinnatalli, waving her umbrella frock, was walking with slow steps….. There was a mild happy smile on the lips of Amrutam who was in the kitchen arranging the pots and pans on the shelf….. Janaki stopped laughing abruptly as though it was cut by some one.
Muttering “I will get milk for the baby” Janaki went into the kitchen. There she had four walls, which were her own. Rao never seemed to have entered that room. He would at the most come up to the door and ask, “Jani! Can you give me a cup of coffee?” Once in there Janaki could breathe again. When she looked at the pots and pans, the tins, the sugar bowl, the spoons, the water boiling on the stove, as though she regained her energy, she started tidying them away. Though her hands were working her mind was still thinking.
Why did she not condemn it? Where does her weakness lie? Though it was said for fun she had a feeling that some delicate bond somewhere was getting severed. She didn’t know from where she got the patience to stand such things. As usual she opened the upper cupboard and brought down the file. It was a file that contained all bills and papers related to the house management. On top of them there was Janaki’s certificate of M.A. Home Science (Catering Technology) with gold letters. She touched it lovingly. ‘Janaki!’…..There was a call from the dining hall.
“Coming!”
It was quite a surprise to Janaaki how she could regain her usual temper when she went to the hall, carrying the tray with milk to the child.
After half-an-hour the house was silent. A cycle-rickshaw from the cretche had come to pick up the child. And for Rao, a car from his office had come. While leaving for office Rao assigned many duties to her. She should chi-chat with Gita Mukherjee for half-an-hour. She should invite her home to dinner as he needs her help. The intention was to make friends with her so that Rao would easily get the deposits from her company. If Raman called up she should try to get ride of him politely. He was of no use at all. He was only a gossip. There was a small function at Rao’s M.D's place. Since Janaki's taste was good she should get a gift for them which would be cheap and the best. These were the usual things that Janaki did everyday.
Amrutam kept the house spick and span always.
“Do you want a new mother or the old mother?”
“My typist is mad after me”….
“No use dear. You are getting old. I have to look for another woman”.
“Jani doesn’t have any company….. She is not able to stay alone whenever I go on a tour. Immediately I have to look for a girl.”
These were the sort of jokes that Rao would crack among his fiends or in the bedroom or drawing room. Janaki had been listening to such jokes, which would determine the status of a woman. She was deeply hurt by them.
“Your job is permanent”….
How does she take it? Does she take it lightly or seriously? If it were like an employment how nice it would have been! Unfortunately it was not. She didn’t know why she decided not to work. Her father hurried her up. When he got acquainted with Rao he was overjoyed. He thought that Rao was very intelligent and was capable of climbing up the social ladder rapidly. He was proved right. But when she helped him by copying notes, making tea, serving him dutifully and keeping everything at home to suit his convenience, he got the post of the officer. And she, in turn, with his kindness, got the life of a housewife with every comfort. Rao gets a car from his office. Many executives come to meet him. A large office is under his control. For doing all this he gets money. It would be fair to say that he earns with both hands. What about her? She has an entry in neither his personal life nor money. Everything – money, house, her life – is under his control. If she wants to go shopping, she has to ask him the previous night with all her love. Rao has to be satisfied. Until Rao asks her caressing her hair, ‘Do you want to go for shopping tomorrow Jani?’ The drama has to continue. In case she needs money for anything else she has to inform him and only when he feels that it is a good cause she gets the money. With one sentence like ‘why, it’s a waste Jani’ all her rehearsal goes a waste. She gets permission to buy anything until it helps her to keep up with the officer status of Rao.
Is she not an employee in this house? Doesn’t she deserve wages for all the donkey’s work that she does? Is it not possible for her to think and take decisions independently like Rao does?
She too has friends. She too speaks to them, but not in the same fashion as Rao does.
Rao orders them.
“O.K. Fix it for tomorrow. Let there be ganabajana (live music) all night. Send for Ravi. Unless we listen to his songs we will not get any pleasure. By the way, catch hold of that fellow, Sharma. Without his jokes it cann’t be a party….”.
She too tells her friends - “Tomorrow? I will let you know in the evening. When Rao comes home, you know…… No, no, I think I can come tomorrow……there is no specific work as such….. I will just inform Rao and …… that’t not a problem ….. Amrutam will pack his lunch ….. After informing Rao……”.
Rao need not control her particularly. Her thoughts of him always control her.
Sometimes she feels that there is hardly any difference between Amrutam and herself. Amrutam and she share the household work. But she needs her permission to eat even a mouthful of rice. If Amrutam wants to give a fruit to her three-year-old son she has to be at her mercy. It is just like the way she pleases Rao to get her things done, Amrutam too pleases her by serving her, by ironing her sarees and by tidying the house much more neatly.
Janaki walked up and down restlessly. In a way Amrutam’s plight is better than hers. When she gets her salary she attends to a few personal matters. She has her own tiny plan as far as her hut is concerned. But in her case, she doesn’t have the power….can she say that ….Okay, she can say that she doesn’t have that possibility. She only nods her head in agreement whatever Rao says.
The phone was ringing. Amrutam picked it up…..”Okay sir. I will fry eggs sir ….. Yes sir…. No sir, it is an hour’s job …. Sir….. It is all right sir …… I can do it. Madam is in the veranda. Shall I call her sir? … Sir …..Sir….”.
Janaki sat down in the sofa. Amrutam calls him sir whereas she would say “….Yes ….okay …… It doesn’t take long ….. It’ll be done in half-an-hour…..”.
For one hour both the ladies would slog in the kitchen and when everything was almost finished, she would go and hurriedly take a bath. She would wear a good saree and get dressed up too well to cover up all her tiredness. Rao would get down from the car majestically along with his friends. Then in the drawing room there would be an outburst of laughter. Spoons and plates would clatter. She would serve them food smiling beautifully. The party would come to a climax with dirty jokes and comments up to a limit. She would get up and walk away with a smile as if she didn’t hear anything. Did she every say, “Don’t ever indulge in dirty talk about women”. Amrutam, in the meanwhile would get exhausted by supplying more and more dishes and by washing them. After what would scam to be an eternity… when the party came to an end, Rao while stretching his hands would say ‘I am tired dear’ and enter the bed room with heavy steps and stretch himself out on the bed. At times he would go overboard and would call her ‘come here dear’ and would get ready to have sex with her with that horrid smelling body. But all this never troubled her …. No…. She made herself rather believe that way. ‘Does comfort or convenience kill the power of thought of a person in this manner?’
‘Madam, we ran out of tea powder. Shall I go and get it?’ asked Amrutam.
Janaki nodded her permission mechanically. Amrutam went out of the gate. Amrutam’s three-year old son was playing in the garden. He would always keep on talking all by himself. He was standing by the compound wall opposite Janaki and was arranging on the wall the colourful stones he had in his hand in a row. When he noticed his mother going out he stretched his hands in her direction and was about to cry. But he did not when he saw that she had already left. When he saw that Janaki was looking at him he showed her the stones he had in his hand and wanted to give them to her. Janaki smiled. She shook her head to tell him that she did not want them. The stones he was arranging on the wall were slipping and falling down as the wall was very smooth. He had an endless patience. He was bending on his knees, picking them up and arranging them again and again.
‘Janaki madam…. Amrutam is dead…’ Standing outside the gate screamed the shopkeeper who owned a small shop down the lane. Janaki got up with a startle and ran out. People were crowded at the end of the lane. It was said that when Amrutam was crossing the road a car came without any honking and knocked her down. Amrutam, who had been working in the kitchen a few minutes ago, was lying dead on the road. Her skull was broken and the red blood was flowing on the road. Janaki could not control herself.
‘Can you give me Mr. Rao’s phone number?’ asked the shopkeeper. With eyes that became dim with tears Janaki was staring at Amrutam – ‘Amrutam who lived with her for six years; Amrutam who had high hopes for her son. When Rao scolded her once that her son was roaming freely all over the house and dirtying it and snatching away biscuits and toys from Chinnatalli’s hand, Amrutam lowered her head and remained silent. After that she never allowed her son to come beyond the front verandah. She would let him play in the garden and look after him with utmost care. It was her self-respect that her son should not be scolded by anyone. She had the caliber to budget her income carefully. She was too good that she never detested her husband for not looking after her. Though he was the one who would go quite frequently out of town for months together, she used to worry about him. Now her lifeless body lies here – ’ Janaki returned home with a heavy heart. Amrutam’s son was still arranging the stones in a row.
What would happen to this kid? How would his father, who never cared for them even when his mother was alive, look after him? Within ten minutes Rao arrived. Everything was arranged over the phone. What else, Rao was highly competent. By the evening Amrutam’s husband came. Standing across the verandah he spoke very softly to Rao who was sitting in a sofa. Rao gave him some money. While closing the door after he had left Rao noticed Amrutam’s son sleeping by the wall.
‘What is this? Why is he here?’
‘He did not recognise his father. He was scared when his father called him’ replied Janaki. It was true. He had seen only Rao and Rao’s friends who would resemble him. He was really taken a back when he saw his father. Amrutam was working until the day before his birth. When the labour pains started, taking the money given by Janaki, Amrutam went to the government hospital in a cycle-rickshaw all by herself. There she went on crying the whole night with pain without anyone to comfort her or to hold her hand with sympathy. In contrast, when Janaki was in labour her mother, mother-in-law, sister-in-law and other relatives were there with her. Amrutam took good care of Janaki. She would tremble whenever Janaki’s face was contorted with pain. When Chinnatalli was born she looked after her with great care. She would not have shown her own son a fraction of the affection she showed Chinnatalli. Everyone, including Rao had seen the little kid with his faltering steps walk behind his mother who was always busy attending to Chinnatalli. Amrutam used to get her hut redone whenever her husband returned from his long tours and would show all concern for him. But still she never left the household work to Janaki. She used to shuttle between her husband and Janaki’s kitchen. Rao had no knowledge about all this.
‘So, what do you want to say? Do you want to adapt him?’
- Why all this talk? It’s not even two hours since Amrutam died. Is this the time to talk about the kid? –
Rao, who was very resourceful, had sent his office attendant half-an-hour ago for a maid and got one already. She was there tidying up the house.
Janaki was not given a chance to speak. Rao told Janaki that she should maintain her dignity. He further said that he couldnot imagine his wife giving a bath and feeding the food to a maid’s son. He went back to the verandah and sent word to the shopkeeper. He was the one who brought Amritam to their house. He introduced her as a good woman whose husband was not in a position to provide for her as his earnings were not enough even to meet his own personal expenditure. Amrutam who had come that day departed now this way….
It seemed that the shopkeeper had already left closing the shop. Rao got up and while coming in gave her a strict warning – ‘Tomorrow morning this kid must leave this place for good’.
Janaki turned off the lights and sat on the floor by the wall in the same room where Amrutam’s son, Bangaru, was fast asleep. He looked tired. Had Amrutam been alive she would have given him a bath making him stand in the garden itself. She would have helped him to put on a clean shirt. She would have chatted with him to sleep. Today there was no such thing. As usual, he played in the garden as long as he could. When it was getting dark he came to the verandah where Chinnatalli was playing. He sat there with a thumb in the mouth. When Janaki had given him some rice mixed with a vegetable to eat, he looked for his mother in every direction. When he did not find her he ate a little by himself smearing it all over his body. Even then did she bother to get up and feed the food to him like how Amrutam would to Chinnatalli? No, nothing of that sort. She gave him a glass of milk thinking that he was not full. He had that milk and slept by the wall after tossing and turning for a long time. His mother’s disappearance did not disturb him much as she would always be busy with her work and would go to him only late at night.
Rao asked for water. He could as well go and get it himself. But she must go and get it for him however busy she was. It would seem that it was Janaki’s right to serve him. He noticed that Janaki was still awake thinking about Amrutam’s son.
‘How many things can I do? I got the body removed within an hour. You have taken upon yourself the responsibility of this kid. Your mind is rusting as it has no work’, he said.
The tumbler in Janaki’s hands was shaken a little.
That was the reward he gave for all her service and devotion.
Amrutam’s son rolled over while talking in his sleep. The blanket got displaced. His tiny tummy could be seen.
“He will play with Chinnatalli. How much food does he need?…. Why don’t you allow him to live with us….” Said Janaki.
Rao turned back.
“Have you gone mad? Don’t entertain such foolish thoughts. Keep shut and sleep….” he shouted at her.
Janaki realised that she had had no chance to say ‘no’ or ‘nothing doing’ to him. What was her role in that house? She understood at that moment that how her life had slipped out of her hands. She lulled her conscience into believing that education was for knowledge. Had she ever thought of standing on her own feet, economic independence and things like that? Perhaps she had deep within herself a parasitic instinct. Perhaps she was lazy by nature and wanted to live freely, without any need to work hard. Rao and she did not discuss the matter in order to take a decision. They both did not decide as to what should be done with the kid. Did she ever get a chance to suggest that how it would be if he was admitted in an orphanage. Just lilke Amrutam she listened to him. That was all. Her role was limited to that….. She started recollecting each day of her life during the past ten years. Hadn’t she seen how Rao had struggled for his career? Did she ever think of herself? Did she ever think that her education should be useful both to herself and the people around her? How she had degraded herself after entering this house as a wife?….. Did she prove that she was equal to Rao in every respect? She herself did not have a strong desire to have an independent life of her own. It was clear to Janaki what she had lost. There was nothing that she did. Even when Rao cracked jokes about other women she felt that she was great and large hearted. That was all. She laughed at herself. If only she had realised the importance of her degree certificates …… If only she remained equal to Rao in this house, she wouldn’t have an occasion to experience all the agony of the present. Janaki again looked at the kid who was fast asleep. He was lying there with his legs stretched freely. Couldn’t she do anything to the sleeping kid? Janaki smiled. At the moment, she too was in the same plight as that fellow. If only she could learn to walk slowly without falling down like him she would gradually pick up speed and run. In her very faltering steps he too would step. Who could stop anything once it gets underway?
-: o : -
”Chinnatalli…. Come here… Do you want a new mother or this old mother?”
Chinnatalli looked up at her mother who was serving her idlies.
We don’t know what she witnessed in the large eyes of her mother which were like waterpools, she said moving her eyes to the right and the left “I want the old mother”.
Rao laughed aloud.
“Okay, sanctioned. Your daughter has voted for you dear. Your job is permanent”.
Janaki laughed. The house was full of laughter. Chinnatalli, waving her umbrella frock, was walking with slow steps….. There was a mild happy smile on the lips of Amrutam who was in the kitchen arranging the pots and pans on the shelf….. Janaki stopped laughing abruptly as though it was cut by some one.
Muttering “I will get milk for the baby” Janaki went into the kitchen. There she had four walls, which were her own. Rao never seemed to have entered that room. He would at the most come up to the door and ask, “Jani! Can you give me a cup of coffee?” Once in there Janaki could breathe again. When she looked at the pots and pans, the tins, the sugar bowl, the spoons, the water boiling on the stove, as though she regained her energy, she started tidying them away. Though her hands were working her mind was still thinking.
Why did she not condemn it? Where does her weakness lie? Though it was said for fun she had a feeling that some delicate bond somewhere was getting severed. She didn’t know from where she got the patience to stand such things. As usual she opened the upper cupboard and brought down the file. It was a file that contained all bills and papers related to the house management. On top of them there was Janaki’s certificate of M.A. Home Science (Catering Technology) with gold letters. She touched it lovingly. ‘Janaki!’…..There was a call from the dining hall.
“Coming!”
It was quite a surprise to Janaaki how she could regain her usual temper when she went to the hall, carrying the tray with milk to the child.
After half-an-hour the house was silent. A cycle-rickshaw from the cretche had come to pick up the child. And for Rao, a car from his office had come. While leaving for office Rao assigned many duties to her. She should chi-chat with Gita Mukherjee for half-an-hour. She should invite her home to dinner as he needs her help. The intention was to make friends with her so that Rao would easily get the deposits from her company. If Raman called up she should try to get ride of him politely. He was of no use at all. He was only a gossip. There was a small function at Rao’s M.D's place. Since Janaki's taste was good she should get a gift for them which would be cheap and the best. These were the usual things that Janaki did everyday.
Amrutam kept the house spick and span always.
“Do you want a new mother or the old mother?”
“My typist is mad after me”….
“No use dear. You are getting old. I have to look for another woman”.
“Jani doesn’t have any company….. She is not able to stay alone whenever I go on a tour. Immediately I have to look for a girl.”
These were the sort of jokes that Rao would crack among his fiends or in the bedroom or drawing room. Janaki had been listening to such jokes, which would determine the status of a woman. She was deeply hurt by them.
“Your job is permanent”….
How does she take it? Does she take it lightly or seriously? If it were like an employment how nice it would have been! Unfortunately it was not. She didn’t know why she decided not to work. Her father hurried her up. When he got acquainted with Rao he was overjoyed. He thought that Rao was very intelligent and was capable of climbing up the social ladder rapidly. He was proved right. But when she helped him by copying notes, making tea, serving him dutifully and keeping everything at home to suit his convenience, he got the post of the officer. And she, in turn, with his kindness, got the life of a housewife with every comfort. Rao gets a car from his office. Many executives come to meet him. A large office is under his control. For doing all this he gets money. It would be fair to say that he earns with both hands. What about her? She has an entry in neither his personal life nor money. Everything – money, house, her life – is under his control. If she wants to go shopping, she has to ask him the previous night with all her love. Rao has to be satisfied. Until Rao asks her caressing her hair, ‘Do you want to go for shopping tomorrow Jani?’ The drama has to continue. In case she needs money for anything else she has to inform him and only when he feels that it is a good cause she gets the money. With one sentence like ‘why, it’s a waste Jani’ all her rehearsal goes a waste. She gets permission to buy anything until it helps her to keep up with the officer status of Rao.
Is she not an employee in this house? Doesn’t she deserve wages for all the donkey’s work that she does? Is it not possible for her to think and take decisions independently like Rao does?
She too has friends. She too speaks to them, but not in the same fashion as Rao does.
Rao orders them.
“O.K. Fix it for tomorrow. Let there be ganabajana (live music) all night. Send for Ravi. Unless we listen to his songs we will not get any pleasure. By the way, catch hold of that fellow, Sharma. Without his jokes it cann’t be a party….”.
She too tells her friends - “Tomorrow? I will let you know in the evening. When Rao comes home, you know…… No, no, I think I can come tomorrow……there is no specific work as such….. I will just inform Rao and …… that’t not a problem ….. Amrutam will pack his lunch ….. After informing Rao……”.
Rao need not control her particularly. Her thoughts of him always control her.
Sometimes she feels that there is hardly any difference between Amrutam and herself. Amrutam and she share the household work. But she needs her permission to eat even a mouthful of rice. If Amrutam wants to give a fruit to her three-year-old son she has to be at her mercy. It is just like the way she pleases Rao to get her things done, Amrutam too pleases her by serving her, by ironing her sarees and by tidying the house much more neatly.
Janaki walked up and down restlessly. In a way Amrutam’s plight is better than hers. When she gets her salary she attends to a few personal matters. She has her own tiny plan as far as her hut is concerned. But in her case, she doesn’t have the power….can she say that ….Okay, she can say that she doesn’t have that possibility. She only nods her head in agreement whatever Rao says.
The phone was ringing. Amrutam picked it up…..”Okay sir. I will fry eggs sir ….. Yes sir…. No sir, it is an hour’s job …. Sir….. It is all right sir …… I can do it. Madam is in the veranda. Shall I call her sir? … Sir …..Sir….”.
Janaki sat down in the sofa. Amrutam calls him sir whereas she would say “….Yes ….okay …… It doesn’t take long ….. It’ll be done in half-an-hour…..”.
For one hour both the ladies would slog in the kitchen and when everything was almost finished, she would go and hurriedly take a bath. She would wear a good saree and get dressed up too well to cover up all her tiredness. Rao would get down from the car majestically along with his friends. Then in the drawing room there would be an outburst of laughter. Spoons and plates would clatter. She would serve them food smiling beautifully. The party would come to a climax with dirty jokes and comments up to a limit. She would get up and walk away with a smile as if she didn’t hear anything. Did she every say, “Don’t ever indulge in dirty talk about women”. Amrutam, in the meanwhile would get exhausted by supplying more and more dishes and by washing them. After what would scam to be an eternity… when the party came to an end, Rao while stretching his hands would say ‘I am tired dear’ and enter the bed room with heavy steps and stretch himself out on the bed. At times he would go overboard and would call her ‘come here dear’ and would get ready to have sex with her with that horrid smelling body. But all this never troubled her …. No…. She made herself rather believe that way. ‘Does comfort or convenience kill the power of thought of a person in this manner?’
‘Madam, we ran out of tea powder. Shall I go and get it?’ asked Amrutam.
Janaki nodded her permission mechanically. Amrutam went out of the gate. Amrutam’s three-year old son was playing in the garden. He would always keep on talking all by himself. He was standing by the compound wall opposite Janaki and was arranging on the wall the colourful stones he had in his hand in a row. When he noticed his mother going out he stretched his hands in her direction and was about to cry. But he did not when he saw that she had already left. When he saw that Janaki was looking at him he showed her the stones he had in his hand and wanted to give them to her. Janaki smiled. She shook her head to tell him that she did not want them. The stones he was arranging on the wall were slipping and falling down as the wall was very smooth. He had an endless patience. He was bending on his knees, picking them up and arranging them again and again.
‘Janaki madam…. Amrutam is dead…’ Standing outside the gate screamed the shopkeeper who owned a small shop down the lane. Janaki got up with a startle and ran out. People were crowded at the end of the lane. It was said that when Amrutam was crossing the road a car came without any honking and knocked her down. Amrutam, who had been working in the kitchen a few minutes ago, was lying dead on the road. Her skull was broken and the red blood was flowing on the road. Janaki could not control herself.
‘Can you give me Mr. Rao’s phone number?’ asked the shopkeeper. With eyes that became dim with tears Janaki was staring at Amrutam – ‘Amrutam who lived with her for six years; Amrutam who had high hopes for her son. When Rao scolded her once that her son was roaming freely all over the house and dirtying it and snatching away biscuits and toys from Chinnatalli’s hand, Amrutam lowered her head and remained silent. After that she never allowed her son to come beyond the front verandah. She would let him play in the garden and look after him with utmost care. It was her self-respect that her son should not be scolded by anyone. She had the caliber to budget her income carefully. She was too good that she never detested her husband for not looking after her. Though he was the one who would go quite frequently out of town for months together, she used to worry about him. Now her lifeless body lies here – ’ Janaki returned home with a heavy heart. Amrutam’s son was still arranging the stones in a row.
What would happen to this kid? How would his father, who never cared for them even when his mother was alive, look after him? Within ten minutes Rao arrived. Everything was arranged over the phone. What else, Rao was highly competent. By the evening Amrutam’s husband came. Standing across the verandah he spoke very softly to Rao who was sitting in a sofa. Rao gave him some money. While closing the door after he had left Rao noticed Amrutam’s son sleeping by the wall.
‘What is this? Why is he here?’
‘He did not recognise his father. He was scared when his father called him’ replied Janaki. It was true. He had seen only Rao and Rao’s friends who would resemble him. He was really taken a back when he saw his father. Amrutam was working until the day before his birth. When the labour pains started, taking the money given by Janaki, Amrutam went to the government hospital in a cycle-rickshaw all by herself. There she went on crying the whole night with pain without anyone to comfort her or to hold her hand with sympathy. In contrast, when Janaki was in labour her mother, mother-in-law, sister-in-law and other relatives were there with her. Amrutam took good care of Janaki. She would tremble whenever Janaki’s face was contorted with pain. When Chinnatalli was born she looked after her with great care. She would not have shown her own son a fraction of the affection she showed Chinnatalli. Everyone, including Rao had seen the little kid with his faltering steps walk behind his mother who was always busy attending to Chinnatalli. Amrutam used to get her hut redone whenever her husband returned from his long tours and would show all concern for him. But still she never left the household work to Janaki. She used to shuttle between her husband and Janaki’s kitchen. Rao had no knowledge about all this.
‘So, what do you want to say? Do you want to adapt him?’
- Why all this talk? It’s not even two hours since Amrutam died. Is this the time to talk about the kid? –
Rao, who was very resourceful, had sent his office attendant half-an-hour ago for a maid and got one already. She was there tidying up the house.
Janaki was not given a chance to speak. Rao told Janaki that she should maintain her dignity. He further said that he couldnot imagine his wife giving a bath and feeding the food to a maid’s son. He went back to the verandah and sent word to the shopkeeper. He was the one who brought Amritam to their house. He introduced her as a good woman whose husband was not in a position to provide for her as his earnings were not enough even to meet his own personal expenditure. Amrutam who had come that day departed now this way….
It seemed that the shopkeeper had already left closing the shop. Rao got up and while coming in gave her a strict warning – ‘Tomorrow morning this kid must leave this place for good’.
Janaki turned off the lights and sat on the floor by the wall in the same room where Amrutam’s son, Bangaru, was fast asleep. He looked tired. Had Amrutam been alive she would have given him a bath making him stand in the garden itself. She would have helped him to put on a clean shirt. She would have chatted with him to sleep. Today there was no such thing. As usual, he played in the garden as long as he could. When it was getting dark he came to the verandah where Chinnatalli was playing. He sat there with a thumb in the mouth. When Janaki had given him some rice mixed with a vegetable to eat, he looked for his mother in every direction. When he did not find her he ate a little by himself smearing it all over his body. Even then did she bother to get up and feed the food to him like how Amrutam would to Chinnatalli? No, nothing of that sort. She gave him a glass of milk thinking that he was not full. He had that milk and slept by the wall after tossing and turning for a long time. His mother’s disappearance did not disturb him much as she would always be busy with her work and would go to him only late at night.
Rao asked for water. He could as well go and get it himself. But she must go and get it for him however busy she was. It would seem that it was Janaki’s right to serve him. He noticed that Janaki was still awake thinking about Amrutam’s son.
‘How many things can I do? I got the body removed within an hour. You have taken upon yourself the responsibility of this kid. Your mind is rusting as it has no work’, he said.
The tumbler in Janaki’s hands was shaken a little.
That was the reward he gave for all her service and devotion.
Amrutam’s son rolled over while talking in his sleep. The blanket got displaced. His tiny tummy could be seen.
“He will play with Chinnatalli. How much food does he need?…. Why don’t you allow him to live with us….” Said Janaki.
Rao turned back.
“Have you gone mad? Don’t entertain such foolish thoughts. Keep shut and sleep….” he shouted at her.
Janaki realised that she had had no chance to say ‘no’ or ‘nothing doing’ to him. What was her role in that house? She understood at that moment that how her life had slipped out of her hands. She lulled her conscience into believing that education was for knowledge. Had she ever thought of standing on her own feet, economic independence and things like that? Perhaps she had deep within herself a parasitic instinct. Perhaps she was lazy by nature and wanted to live freely, without any need to work hard. Rao and she did not discuss the matter in order to take a decision. They both did not decide as to what should be done with the kid. Did she ever get a chance to suggest that how it would be if he was admitted in an orphanage. Just lilke Amrutam she listened to him. That was all. Her role was limited to that….. She started recollecting each day of her life during the past ten years. Hadn’t she seen how Rao had struggled for his career? Did she ever think of herself? Did she ever think that her education should be useful both to herself and the people around her? How she had degraded herself after entering this house as a wife?….. Did she prove that she was equal to Rao in every respect? She herself did not have a strong desire to have an independent life of her own. It was clear to Janaki what she had lost. There was nothing that she did. Even when Rao cracked jokes about other women she felt that she was great and large hearted. That was all. She laughed at herself. If only she had realised the importance of her degree certificates …… If only she remained equal to Rao in this house, she wouldn’t have an occasion to experience all the agony of the present. Janaki again looked at the kid who was fast asleep. He was lying there with his legs stretched freely. Couldn’t she do anything to the sleeping kid? Janaki smiled. At the moment, she too was in the same plight as that fellow. If only she could learn to walk slowly without falling down like him she would gradually pick up speed and run. In her very faltering steps he too would step. Who could stop anything once it gets underway?
-: o : -
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