Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Translated from Telugu by Dr. Haribandi Lakshmi, EFL University
Perhaps that was the first time I realised that I had many masks. I was not aware of the masks I had with me neither on the day I attained puberty while running about in the playground nor on the day I went to the class feeling great, wearing a new half-saree with stars twinkling in my eyes. I was not aware of them when a boy of my class feeling shy flattered me by saying ‘jaya, your beauty…’. I was not aware of it even later when I went through different phases of life –studies, marriage, first night, children, family – That particular day, at the time of twilight, for the first time, in the jungle of people, amidst many of my acquaintances, I picked up a mask that had been with me without my knowledge and wore it. It was a time when I went pale with shock and was ready to shed tears. But you do not believe me, how quickly I regained my composure, within a second I smiled. That means I hid myself. I was conscious of the animal that was standing in front of me and staring at me. Without batting an eyelid he was looking at the glow in my eyes, the smile on my lips and the way I shook my head making the hair fall in curls on my face.
“Why not ….. I can arrange it as early as possible”, he said instantly.
“Thank you Sir! …. We will meet again….” I bid him goodbye with my eyes themselves. I did not forget even a single thing – to walk more gracefully on noticing that he was staring at me, to pull the upper end of my saree which was almost touching the ground around my back, looking back at him while getting into the auto. I got used to all these things. Once the auto came out of the gate on to the main road my mask slipped into a safer place. The tears welling in my eyes were ready to burst out, but there was no time for that. The regional office was just two streets away. He picked up the phone in my presence itself and said, “Mrs. Jaya will be coming to you. You settle Mr. Shankar’s matter”.
Shankar was waiting for me over there. The goods were not delivered for two months to his shop in One Town. If the situation were to continue he would have no option but to flee the place. Jaya should help him in everything in starting the business and in its promotion too. Her status as an officer, her shrewdness, her glamour …… everything becomes his business capital.
“Jaya, if you impress the regional manager, our stock will get promoted. He is a good connoisseur of literature. You present your latest book to him and broach the subject”.
In the last ten day there was not a single moment when Shankar did not irritate me. Shankar planned everything meticulously – inviting him to dinner, discussion on literature and what not. Gracefully and charmingly I hid myself with the mask of a great actor.
“Mrs. Jaya! You seem to be very active. Your new collection of poetry is simply marvelous. You have expressed your life’s ambition in a very elegant manner. Your translation into words of things like a morning, a memorable experience and an anguished heart is superb. Next month I am going to Bangalore on some official business. Why do not you go with me? You can have a change from the routine. I love to talk to you and listen to your new poems”.
That beast’s voice was resonating in my mind as in a stereo. It was important to get the loan sanctioned. Being a mother of two children I am the one who slogs at home till the last minute and resorts to many circus feats to be there in the office by ten O’ clock in the morning. Should I accompany you on your pleasure trip? Is this the respect you give to others?” Did I question him so? No, never ….. not even mildly. Instead I smiled. I exhibited my narrow waistline and tiny tommy beautifully.
“Do not frown!” Shankar warned me well in advance.
As soon as the auto came to a halt Shankar came running to me. Rummaging the bag for change, without even looking at him I told him, “he asked us to clear the amount in two months.”
Shankar’s face lighted up. He said, “Oh, what a relief! Thank you Jaya!”. It was sheer ignorance not even to realise that life is lost somewhere amidst the accounts, calculations and budgets….. Anyway, what would be talk about? At the most he would say ‘Jaya, pass the chits as soon as you receive your salary tomorrow’ or ‘have you seen the payment card from LIC?’ or ‘has the matter finalised regarding the housing loan?’…. This was the sort of talk we would have.
At the end of the day after all the work was done and the children went to bed, I would change into a night gown, comb my hair and do a bit of make up and enter the bed room only to find Shankar on phone or in front of the computer checking the accounts or in sound sleep, snoring with his mouth wide open …… In case he was not yet tired, he would call ‘Jaya come here once….. and satisfy himself in five minutes’. It was then that I would be available to myself. I never really worried about those moments that I could not stand myself. At once a beautiful mask would readily come into my hands. Then a kind of excitement would overwhelm my entire body slowly and gradually, beginning with the face and the hands. Along with it a new world of mine which I created myself would quickly encompass me as in a film setting.
The children of Somalia who were famished and reduced to skeletons, an old woman deserted by her family, a poor victim of a gang rape – These are the people that surround me. I feel too excited to breathe. Then the words would start their gimmick and with well-measured words I would make it rain with tears. I would depict a wounded soul or a dying sun on a paper canvas. The laments of the grief-stricken earthquake victims whom I have never seen with my eyes become the theme of my poem. Around midnight I shed that thin mask and with my own real face, which I hate to see myself, I slip into bed, tired and letting neither an opportunity to think of my desires, miseries and indignities nor any room for shedding even a single drop of tear. I forget myself…. so much so that I don’t even understand whether the days were rolling by or running fast …. Later on, no matter whether I am talking to someone or walking or working in the office, it is a new experience…… I am empty and shallow or to be more precise, I am like an empty corked bottle…. yes exactly like that ….. I am nowhere inside it. The body, the blood, the limbs that work, and the saree that I wear all are mine. But I am not there anywhere. I look for an assurance that might peep in from some corner of life, which can make me feel that everything is mine totally. The garden that I see every morning on getting up is planned and planted by me. My plan was to have the flowers swinging with their long stalks in close proximity. The house is cozy with everything arranged neatly. Everything is acquired with my own earnings. The time that remains after the office work and a sleep is spent on planning different things…. saving money, calculating the debits and credits …… At last even in giving birth to children, applying leave to office, appointing mother or mother-in-law to look after the kids, there involved a perfect planning.
This life is a balance sheet of credits and debits. Shankar has a clear understanding of this matter. He would manage the household affairs just as he does his project or clears the accounts. Our life seems to be alright as far as having a structure with a strong foundation and a beautiful arrangement of the bricks is concerned….. But the essence of life is along the path lost somewhere. How, where and when we have lost it I do not know, but Shankar and I became strangers now. All the routine things go on as usual. There is a soft noise of a sudden snapping of a relationship as delicate as a silver thread between two of us. But this noise goes on sounding like a loud explosion in my innerself. We two live in that house like prisoners in a jail. The words like love and friendship have staged a walk out from our lives long ago. We remained human beings only by virtue of our bodies that walk and breathe. On one night when we were not in a position to stand each others existence and were left with nothing to talk about and were burdened with the weight of our own thoughts, there was a call from hundreds of miles away from a former colleague of mine. He and I worked together as probationary officers. It was after a long time since he left the place looking for another job. Words were flowing like a current. I was trying to tell him everything that had happened since then as if it were only a few minutes. Suddenly he asked me, “why are you so disspirited Jaya? Any problem?” I was taken aback for a second. I wanted to tell him in a jiffy that I was not at all fine and infact I remained not as my usual self but as somebody else. But is it possible to tell such naked truths? Surprisingly a mask that hides me comes out without my asking for it. “When I was woken up with a startle in the middle of the night by your phone and started answering your questions of Yaksha as promptly as in an A.P.P.S.C. examination, what is your conjecture?” I could question him so. What a hypocrisy! Human beings alone have such a skill.
“Look, I am a happy-go-lucky-type. I do not want any responsibilities in my life. I cannot face any hardship or tension. Life has to be like a flower boat sailing on water”. I went on laughing. I went on narrating the memories of the past….. my job, my creative writing….
When I was hanging up Shankar said, “It seems he does not have manners. He calls up at midnight or an unearthly hour. Doesn’t he know that he should not disturb you at this hour. In fact you are to be blamed for it. Where is the need to laugh so much? When you are encouraging him a lot, is he a rushyasrunga not to respond? I do not like all this over action”. I took a minute to think. That little time was enough. There slipped a mask of a slave. After a very long time I stood straight. In an uncontrollable fit of temper and fury all my masks that number a few thousands were swept somewhere, I did not know where. That night I spoke to Shankar for a long time. I explained it to him why I became what I was. I explained to him how I changed myself for the sake of the four walls of the house, for the circle I built around myself and for my weakness to be praised by the society. I gave every other pleasure to many gentlemen except sleeping with them. I told him that I understood very well the fact that he did not have any objection as long as my every smile fetched him money. I talked about how he tortured me until I descended all those steps after a series of events - the nights that we fought fierce battles with each other in the presence of the children, the occasions when I became a sea and went without food and sleep, the moments my job and influence slowly crept into Shankar’s business deals – Shankar told me decisively that I should take care of my character. He told me to put an end to all the unnecessary smiles, friend and phone calls. He also gave me a concession that I could work if I wanted, otherwise I could sit at home and take care of the children. His business, which was established with all my money including that of P.F. and with the capital of my smiles, had picked up now. It is time that I should look for another mask. I have to see if I can find somewhere my ‘pativrata’ mask which was swept away by my emotional outburst last night. Where can I look for it?….. There were thousand of masks….. masks of several different colours. It would be a problem if I do not get it by tomorrow morning. That mask is necessary for the last role I am going to enact. I do not know where I lost my pativrata mask!…..
- - - - - - - -
Perhaps that was the first time I realised that I had many masks. I was not aware of the masks I had with me neither on the day I attained puberty while running about in the playground nor on the day I went to the class feeling great, wearing a new half-saree with stars twinkling in my eyes. I was not aware of them when a boy of my class feeling shy flattered me by saying ‘jaya, your beauty…’. I was not aware of it even later when I went through different phases of life –studies, marriage, first night, children, family – That particular day, at the time of twilight, for the first time, in the jungle of people, amidst many of my acquaintances, I picked up a mask that had been with me without my knowledge and wore it. It was a time when I went pale with shock and was ready to shed tears. But you do not believe me, how quickly I regained my composure, within a second I smiled. That means I hid myself. I was conscious of the animal that was standing in front of me and staring at me. Without batting an eyelid he was looking at the glow in my eyes, the smile on my lips and the way I shook my head making the hair fall in curls on my face.
“Why not ….. I can arrange it as early as possible”, he said instantly.
“Thank you Sir! …. We will meet again….” I bid him goodbye with my eyes themselves. I did not forget even a single thing – to walk more gracefully on noticing that he was staring at me, to pull the upper end of my saree which was almost touching the ground around my back, looking back at him while getting into the auto. I got used to all these things. Once the auto came out of the gate on to the main road my mask slipped into a safer place. The tears welling in my eyes were ready to burst out, but there was no time for that. The regional office was just two streets away. He picked up the phone in my presence itself and said, “Mrs. Jaya will be coming to you. You settle Mr. Shankar’s matter”.
Shankar was waiting for me over there. The goods were not delivered for two months to his shop in One Town. If the situation were to continue he would have no option but to flee the place. Jaya should help him in everything in starting the business and in its promotion too. Her status as an officer, her shrewdness, her glamour …… everything becomes his business capital.
“Jaya, if you impress the regional manager, our stock will get promoted. He is a good connoisseur of literature. You present your latest book to him and broach the subject”.
In the last ten day there was not a single moment when Shankar did not irritate me. Shankar planned everything meticulously – inviting him to dinner, discussion on literature and what not. Gracefully and charmingly I hid myself with the mask of a great actor.
“Mrs. Jaya! You seem to be very active. Your new collection of poetry is simply marvelous. You have expressed your life’s ambition in a very elegant manner. Your translation into words of things like a morning, a memorable experience and an anguished heart is superb. Next month I am going to Bangalore on some official business. Why do not you go with me? You can have a change from the routine. I love to talk to you and listen to your new poems”.
That beast’s voice was resonating in my mind as in a stereo. It was important to get the loan sanctioned. Being a mother of two children I am the one who slogs at home till the last minute and resorts to many circus feats to be there in the office by ten O’ clock in the morning. Should I accompany you on your pleasure trip? Is this the respect you give to others?” Did I question him so? No, never ….. not even mildly. Instead I smiled. I exhibited my narrow waistline and tiny tommy beautifully.
“Do not frown!” Shankar warned me well in advance.
As soon as the auto came to a halt Shankar came running to me. Rummaging the bag for change, without even looking at him I told him, “he asked us to clear the amount in two months.”
Shankar’s face lighted up. He said, “Oh, what a relief! Thank you Jaya!”. It was sheer ignorance not even to realise that life is lost somewhere amidst the accounts, calculations and budgets….. Anyway, what would be talk about? At the most he would say ‘Jaya, pass the chits as soon as you receive your salary tomorrow’ or ‘have you seen the payment card from LIC?’ or ‘has the matter finalised regarding the housing loan?’…. This was the sort of talk we would have.
At the end of the day after all the work was done and the children went to bed, I would change into a night gown, comb my hair and do a bit of make up and enter the bed room only to find Shankar on phone or in front of the computer checking the accounts or in sound sleep, snoring with his mouth wide open …… In case he was not yet tired, he would call ‘Jaya come here once….. and satisfy himself in five minutes’. It was then that I would be available to myself. I never really worried about those moments that I could not stand myself. At once a beautiful mask would readily come into my hands. Then a kind of excitement would overwhelm my entire body slowly and gradually, beginning with the face and the hands. Along with it a new world of mine which I created myself would quickly encompass me as in a film setting.
The children of Somalia who were famished and reduced to skeletons, an old woman deserted by her family, a poor victim of a gang rape – These are the people that surround me. I feel too excited to breathe. Then the words would start their gimmick and with well-measured words I would make it rain with tears. I would depict a wounded soul or a dying sun on a paper canvas. The laments of the grief-stricken earthquake victims whom I have never seen with my eyes become the theme of my poem. Around midnight I shed that thin mask and with my own real face, which I hate to see myself, I slip into bed, tired and letting neither an opportunity to think of my desires, miseries and indignities nor any room for shedding even a single drop of tear. I forget myself…. so much so that I don’t even understand whether the days were rolling by or running fast …. Later on, no matter whether I am talking to someone or walking or working in the office, it is a new experience…… I am empty and shallow or to be more precise, I am like an empty corked bottle…. yes exactly like that ….. I am nowhere inside it. The body, the blood, the limbs that work, and the saree that I wear all are mine. But I am not there anywhere. I look for an assurance that might peep in from some corner of life, which can make me feel that everything is mine totally. The garden that I see every morning on getting up is planned and planted by me. My plan was to have the flowers swinging with their long stalks in close proximity. The house is cozy with everything arranged neatly. Everything is acquired with my own earnings. The time that remains after the office work and a sleep is spent on planning different things…. saving money, calculating the debits and credits …… At last even in giving birth to children, applying leave to office, appointing mother or mother-in-law to look after the kids, there involved a perfect planning.
This life is a balance sheet of credits and debits. Shankar has a clear understanding of this matter. He would manage the household affairs just as he does his project or clears the accounts. Our life seems to be alright as far as having a structure with a strong foundation and a beautiful arrangement of the bricks is concerned….. But the essence of life is along the path lost somewhere. How, where and when we have lost it I do not know, but Shankar and I became strangers now. All the routine things go on as usual. There is a soft noise of a sudden snapping of a relationship as delicate as a silver thread between two of us. But this noise goes on sounding like a loud explosion in my innerself. We two live in that house like prisoners in a jail. The words like love and friendship have staged a walk out from our lives long ago. We remained human beings only by virtue of our bodies that walk and breathe. On one night when we were not in a position to stand each others existence and were left with nothing to talk about and were burdened with the weight of our own thoughts, there was a call from hundreds of miles away from a former colleague of mine. He and I worked together as probationary officers. It was after a long time since he left the place looking for another job. Words were flowing like a current. I was trying to tell him everything that had happened since then as if it were only a few minutes. Suddenly he asked me, “why are you so disspirited Jaya? Any problem?” I was taken aback for a second. I wanted to tell him in a jiffy that I was not at all fine and infact I remained not as my usual self but as somebody else. But is it possible to tell such naked truths? Surprisingly a mask that hides me comes out without my asking for it. “When I was woken up with a startle in the middle of the night by your phone and started answering your questions of Yaksha as promptly as in an A.P.P.S.C. examination, what is your conjecture?” I could question him so. What a hypocrisy! Human beings alone have such a skill.
“Look, I am a happy-go-lucky-type. I do not want any responsibilities in my life. I cannot face any hardship or tension. Life has to be like a flower boat sailing on water”. I went on laughing. I went on narrating the memories of the past….. my job, my creative writing….
When I was hanging up Shankar said, “It seems he does not have manners. He calls up at midnight or an unearthly hour. Doesn’t he know that he should not disturb you at this hour. In fact you are to be blamed for it. Where is the need to laugh so much? When you are encouraging him a lot, is he a rushyasrunga not to respond? I do not like all this over action”. I took a minute to think. That little time was enough. There slipped a mask of a slave. After a very long time I stood straight. In an uncontrollable fit of temper and fury all my masks that number a few thousands were swept somewhere, I did not know where. That night I spoke to Shankar for a long time. I explained it to him why I became what I was. I explained to him how I changed myself for the sake of the four walls of the house, for the circle I built around myself and for my weakness to be praised by the society. I gave every other pleasure to many gentlemen except sleeping with them. I told him that I understood very well the fact that he did not have any objection as long as my every smile fetched him money. I talked about how he tortured me until I descended all those steps after a series of events - the nights that we fought fierce battles with each other in the presence of the children, the occasions when I became a sea and went without food and sleep, the moments my job and influence slowly crept into Shankar’s business deals – Shankar told me decisively that I should take care of my character. He told me to put an end to all the unnecessary smiles, friend and phone calls. He also gave me a concession that I could work if I wanted, otherwise I could sit at home and take care of the children. His business, which was established with all my money including that of P.F. and with the capital of my smiles, had picked up now. It is time that I should look for another mask. I have to see if I can find somewhere my ‘pativrata’ mask which was swept away by my emotional outburst last night. Where can I look for it?….. There were thousand of masks….. masks of several different colours. It would be a problem if I do not get it by tomorrow morning. That mask is necessary for the last role I am going to enact. I do not know where I lost my pativrata mask!…..
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