This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach, page 105
Narottam had not touched the mango when she returned. When Tara insisted, he ate one slice and wiped his hands on his handkerchief. He had not said a word.
‘Why’re you so quiet? Thinking of Neelam? Have been to see her yet?’ Tara asked with a smile. When he made no reply, she felt awkward and kept silent.
‘Do you really think that I’m a useless good-for-nothing?’ he asked.
‘I’ve had no reason to change my mind,’ Tara replied, pursing her lips, then frowned and added, ‘You seem to have developed a taste for flattery now that you’re a high official. Do you want me to butter you up to your face?’
‘No, I don’t want you to sing my praises at all. I don’t think I deserve it. Perhaps everyone finds me insufferable. Anyway, nobody can be aware of his shortcomings.’
‘Well, what do you want then,’ she asked, without looking at him. She felt an urge to laugh at his seriousness and the effort to suppress it caused her face to flush
‘Promise me that you’ll listen to what I have to say.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Tara tried to keep a straight face.
‘You’ve known me for some time, and quite well.’
‘I think so,’ Tara said earnestly.
‘Please tell me any faults that you may have seen in me,’ he asked gravely.
Tara bowed her head, thinking, ‘What’s wrong with him today!’
‘Why don’t you say something?’
‘There’s one fault you have,’ she pretended to be solemn, her eyes on the floor.
‘What?’
‘You ask silly questions just to annoy me.’
‘I had no intention of annoying you. When have I annoyed you deliberately?’
‘Don’t be an idiot? Would I keep asking you back if you were really annoying me?’ she avoided eye contact to keep up her pretence,
Narottam said nothing.
Rising to her feet Tara said, ‘I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to check again on Chimmo. She’s so clumsy.’
Tara had a suspicion that the young man had something bothering him. Deciding to drop the pretences, she said as she returned from the kitchen, ‘Why, what happened? Did Neelam find anything wrong with you?’ Thinking she might have asked too much, she blushed.
Narottam’s face also became flushed. Clearing his throat and leaning forward, he said in English, ‘That Neelam business has turned into a problem. Rawat said something to daddy about announcing our engagement. You know how I really feel about her.’
Without looking at him, she asked, ‘How do you feel about her?’
‘You know very well that I don’t want to marry her. But to tell a father that I don’t like his daughter can be a bit hurtful.’
Tara said sympathetically, her gaze still averted, ‘You’ll have to tell the truth sometime or other.’
‘That hurtfulness can be avoided if I own up to another truth,’ Narottam’s tone became even more sombre.
‘Which truth?’ Tara asked in a confiding tone as if to show her willingness to share a secret.
‘I need your permission before I admit anything.’
‘Do you suppose I want to add to your problems by keeping you from confessing the truth? Why wouldn’t I give you my permission?’
‘I’ve a great regard for Neelam, but in all honesty I must confess that I’ve made up my mind… to declare my love for you.’ Narottam had to summon all his courage to utter these words.
Tara felt as if a live electric wire had touched her. She sighed deeply, got up and went towards the kitchen, but instead went to her bedroom through the veranda. She lay down on her bed as if completely exhausted. Her mind was in turmoil, ‘What’s got into this young man?’ Then she realized, he must be sitting all alone. She got up, washed her face, and poured some water into her hair to cool her head. She combed her hair and changed into a fresh dhoti. She had a drink of water, then sat and thought for a while. Then she went back into the living room, sat in the chair beside Narottam, and said in English, ‘Nottan, have you lost your mind? Why would you say a thing like that? What have we been to each other? Don’t you remember that once you had said I was like an elder sister to you and Dolly?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Narottam said, looking flustered. After a moment’s silence, he added, ‘If what I said has pained you or has offended you, I take back my words for now and forever.’
‘Nottan, it’s not a question of feeling offended. I’m really honoured by your affection for me, but that’s all. Don’t talk like a child. I’m very fond of you, but what you have in mind is neither possible, nor acceptable or proper. The only people I have in this world are you, Mercy and an unfortunate cousin of mine. That is why I always want to stay fond of you. You should have at least considered the difference in our ages. You’re still only a boy. After what I’ve been through the hands of men, I’ll fear and hate them all my life. I’ve been able to feel some fondness and respect for you because I didn’t see you just as another man, but more as a brother. I still want to go on feeling that way. You’re really a good young man. Just forget this foolishness of yours and I’ll forget this incident.’
His head lowered, Narottam said, ‘I’m really sorry. Forgive me, I think I’d like to go now.’
‘Let’s forget what’s just happened. You neither need to feel bad nor ask for forgiveness. But don’t go yet. Mercy said she’d be back for lunch. If you’re willing to forget everything, why can’t you stay?’
‘My dear sister, I will forget it. And I’ll always stand by your side, but I’m not quite myself at the moment. I won’t be able to face Mercy in this condition. I’ll come again.’
Tara let him go.
When Mercy came back she found the plate of sliced mango on the table swarming with flies. Yelling at Chimmo in a mixture of Hindi and English, she sent the plate flying, and it broke, ‘She wants us to die from cholera! This wretch has no sharam. The angel of death is dragging her towards her fate, and she wants us to go with her.’
Lying on the bed in her room, Tara heard Mercy shout, then Chimmo’s explanation, ‘Chhoti bibi had cut up the mango. Why blame me?’
‘Did both of them eat lunch?’
‘Nobody ate. The sahib left.’
Before Tara could get up Mercy came into her room, ‘Why did Narottam leave? I tried to get back jaldi…’ Her anger had calmed down after smashing the plate.
‘He said he had to be somewhere at one o’clock.’
‘We’ll eat if you’re very bhookhi, otherwise I’ll have a quick wash. I’m all sweaty.’
They sat across from each other at the table for lunch. Mercy kept staring at Tara, then said, ‘Why, what’s wrong?’ She reached out to feel the pulse on Tara’s wrist, ‘How do you feel? Did you two have a quarrel while I was out?’
‘No! What ideas you do get into your head! You were out in the loo, maybe the heat has affected your mind.’
Tara was forcing herself to eat. Since they had their meals together every day, Mercy noticed that Tara was only pecking at her food.
‘So, my little one, are you trying to fool me,’ Mercy laughed as she rolled a parantha around a stuffed okra and a whole green chilli, ‘My dear girl, I know how to treat romantic as well as physical disorders. The truth is written all over your face.’
‘Take care of your own heart and body,’ Tara replied, keeping her eyes on her plate.
‘I’ve been expecting something since the day before yesterday. You both were so quiet, unable to speak to each other.’ Mercy took another bite at her rolled-up parantha and gave a meaningful smile, ‘I know the truth. He must have proposed. You, my little one, must have been thrilled to bits, but you’ve had to pretend to be shy and embarrassed.’
‘Didi, please talk sense,’ Tara said irritably. ‘Think of his age, and mine. He’s like a younger brother to me.’
‘Hai, just look at you grandma!’ Mercy raised her eyebrows in surprise, ‘How old are you? Twenty?’
‘Why not say twelve? I’ll soon be twenty-two.’
‘And he’s what … eighteen?’
‘He claims to be twenty-four. He’s so childish, just like a boy. Well, I’ve no plans to get married.’
‘Achcha, if he did propose, it’s to your own advantage because he’ll stay young longer. If you don’t catch him now you’ll be sorry later. Yours is the right age to get married, otherwise you’ll be too old like me…’
‘Don’t talk nonsense, didi,’ Tara again said angrily. ‘You marry him.’
‘How many men can I marry? I wish my old boy was back. Well, Tara, I’m warning you that you’ll be sorry. We have a saying: If a man proposes to a girl when she’s young, she frowns and demands, “What are you?” When she grows older, she asks the man, “Who are you?” When she’s past her prime, she screams in desperation, “Where are you? Where are you?”’
‘Didi, please, don’t you have anything else to talk about?’
‘Won’t you ever get married?’
‘No, I won’t.’
‘You’ve grown up to be such an old maid without ever falling in love, or is it that you haven’t wanted to. Don’t you have a heart and body?’
‘When did I say that I don’t? Love is something else. Don’t I love you?’
‘What difference will that make? That Punjabi nursing sister Kanta says, “If a eunuch sleeps with another eunuch, nobody gets anything.”’
‘Please stop. Isn’t there anything else in the world besides sex?’
‘Don’t you need sex? Or are you not normal?’
‘You might say so. I don’t need all that.’
‘Then we must have you medically examined.’
‘Didi, should I get up and leave you?’
‘Hm.’
Mercy finished eating, drank some water and reaching for a plate of freshly cut mango, said in English, ‘Listen Tara, you’re in denial. You’re trying to fool yourself. A difference of two or three years in age is acceptable. In your heart you feel attracted to him. You’ve been silent since the day his letter arrived. You’re afraid to let yourself go.’
‘No, didi, it’s not really like that. You’ve misunderstood the whole thing,’ Tara said in a serious tone. ‘I didn’t tell you about her before, but I have a cousin. Her husband is tormenting her for no reason. She has a two-year-old baby boy. I’ve been worrying about her. What if that stupid husband of hers throws her out? She doesn’t even have enough education to stand on her own two feet.’ Tara covered her eyes with her aanchal. Sheelo’s face had swum before her eyes.
Mercy ate in silence for a while. She said as she got up, ‘It’s a different matter if you want her to stay here for a couple of days. But as I’ve told you in the beginning, I can’t have more than one person here, and you know how children are.’
Tara had laid down to rest, but she dozed off. It was 5.30 when she woke up. She wanted to go to Shakti Nagar, but did not have the strength. Another time, she thought.
The thought of Sheelo was constantly on her mind. Tara decided not to take seriously what Narottam had said; she felt that she did not have to worry about him. But what would become of that poor Sheelo? If her husband was tormenting her, why did she not tell him, even swear if she had to, that the baby was his? What’s the harm in saying so, just to calm him down? Perhaps that stupid girl thinks that if she swore by putting her hand on his head, it might kill him. She couldn’t bear him to touch her, but was willing to go hungry unless he had eaten first. Who else but a Hindu woman could be so servile and completely ignorant! What if Mohanlal did throw her out? Should I look for a larger accommodation? I should be able to get something for sixty or eighty rupees per month. We’ll both live together. It’s my destiny that I end up always with abused women. First it was Banti, now Sheelo. A man can throw out a woman whenever he wants!
The thought passed her mind: Why not find Ratan and discuss the problem with him? Memories came back to her of her own girlhood. How Ratan used to tease her, and how she had quarrelled with him! She liked him, but his teasing put her off. And how disgusted she had felt when she saw him kissing Sheelo! She had been angry with him, but was envious of Sheelo. Then there had been Asad! And now this Narottam episode! Tara had no objection to falling in love, but was relieved that she had not got into trouble like Sheelo. Love created such problems! ‘Should I ask Ratan to take responsibility for Sheelo? But hadn’t he already asked Sheelo to elope with him! He’ll surely agree to take her in now. And who is there in this unfamiliar city to object? My past dislike of him was foolish. He’s not such a bad person. But I’ll have to ask Sheelo first. Maybe her husband will straighten himself out after a few days of complaining, but that idiot Sheelo says that she can’t stand him. She’s as stubborn as a mule. I hope she doesn’t do anything foolish to herself.’
Mercy had a high-quality radio in her apartment, but neither of them ever listened to it. Some Punjabi refugees had moved into the apartment across the gali. Their radio played at full volume and was seldom switched off. Either the whole family was hard of hearing, or they wanted the whole gali to profit from their radio. On Monday morning Tara was having something to eat before going to the office when a classical song came over the radio in a female voice:
Aye ri aalee, pia bin
Mohe kala na parat, sakhi, ghari pala chhin
Aye ri aalee, pia bin
Jabse piya pardes gaban kino
Ratiyan katat monsaun taare gin gin…
Sister o’mine, without my darling
I know no peace every hour every minute every heartbeat
Sister o’mine,
Ever since he’s gone away
My nights are spent counting the stars…
Tara let her thoughts wander: The singer might be feeling some longing for her beloved at the moment, but she would only learn her lesson after she’s suffered at his hands. Banti and Sheelo and Mrs Agarwal, had all been treated badly by their husbands! Which woman in my gali in Lahore was not cowed into submission by her spouse! Mercy wants to be with her lover, but she too will only learn from experience. Poor Sheelo.
Tara was going downstairs on her way to the office on Thursday when the telephone rang. Mercy was at the clinic. The telephone rang mostly for Mercy; for Tara only once in a fortnight. If Mercy was out, Tara would take a message and leave it for her.
She went back up and answered the telephone. ‘Please get me Tara bahinji,’ said a young boy’s voice, in a Punjabi accent. ‘Ghullu’s mum, Sheelo chachi, has asked Tara to come to her immediately.’
Tara wanted to know who was calling, and what the matter was, but the caller hung up.
It struck Tara that Sheelo must be facing some drastic situation. What should she do? It was just after nine o’clock and, therefore, too early to call her office to report her absence; even the peons would not have arrived at that hour. But she had to respond to Sheelo’s call for help.
Tara took a taxi to Sheelo’s place. She was in such a hurry that she got out and went into the building without paying her fare. Suman was keeping an eye on Ghullu outside the room. Sheelo lay on the charpoy under a sheet. Tara called out to her as she sat on the charpoy, and pulled the sheet away from Sheelo’s face.
Sheelo’s sallow face was the same colour of the yellow crepe kameez she had on. Her hair was matted, her eyes dry and bloodshot. Without getting up she put her arms around Tara and her head in Tara’s lap. She neither said a word, nor shed a tear.
Tara kissed her, and then asked, ‘What’s happened?’
Tara had to ask several times before Sheelo replied in a faint voice, ‘Take Ghullu away with you.’
When Sheelo refused to answer any more questions, Tara said firmly, ‘I won’t do any such thing unless you tell me what happened. If you won’t speak, I’ll sit here in silence too.’
Sheelo finally said, ‘Just do what I’ve asked you, nothing else.’
‘Why should I take him away? I won’t unless you explain first.’
Sheelo said, ‘I finally owned up last night. I was fed up and had no strength left in me. I told my husband, “Yes, Ratan is Ghullu’s father. Now kill me and my baby if you want.” This morning he said that he didn’t want me here anymore. He took all my jewellery, then told me to go back to my parents. He said that he’d put me on a train when he returned from the office. I’ve nowhere to go. You just take Ghullu away.’
Tara fell quiet on hearing this. From Sheelo’s dull look she had guessed what was on her mind. There was no point in asking any more questions. She sat thinking, with her head in hands and Sheelo’s head in her lap.
The taxi driver peered in and asked, ‘Bibiji, you want the taxi to wait?’
Tara pulled herself together and answered, ‘I’m coming.’ To Sheelo she said, ‘I’ll be back in half an hour. Wait here for me.’
Tara got into the taxi and told the driver to take her to Karol Bagh. The address she had was incomplete; all it said was: House number 3, Naai Wali Gali. She had never been to Karol Bagh before. She was not sure of finding Ratan at home. And how would she explain to his parents why she had to talk to him?
On reaching Karol Bagh the driver parked the taxi near some newly built houses as he inquired about the address.
Tara suddenly called out, ‘Ratan bhappa!’
Ratan heard the call, turned around and came over. He leaned into the window of the taxi and stared with blank astonishment.
‘Sheelo’s going to kill herself,’ Tara blurted out, ignoring his shocked expression.
Ratan’s lips opened to pronounce Tara’s name but instead he asked the question, ‘What? …What’s happened?’
‘When did you see her last?’
‘It’s been several days.’
‘Come with me. I’ll explain,’ she said moving aside to make space for him in the back seat. The taxi drove back towards Shakti Nagar.
