This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach, page 96
Puri was unnerved. He held Urmila’s arm and led her from the door to the other side of the room, and whispered, ‘I’ll explain everything to you. Don’t get upset.’
She let herself be pulled away, but did not look at him.
‘Did you make tea?’ Puri asked.
She stood in silence.
Puri looked into the kitchen. The stove had not been lit. He remembered that the milk delivered that morning had not been boiled. He put one hand on her shoulder and raising her chin with the other, said imploringly, ‘Don’t you worry. Trust me. Don’t panic and make things worse. This is your home. Treat her politely just like a guest.’
Urmila went into the kitchen without looking at him.
Puri went down the stairs and called the boy who worked as help on the treadle.
He gave the boy a rupee and told him to get a loaf of bread, butter and some snacks from the halwai shop.
Then he went back up and sat beside Kanak on the chatai, ‘Kanni, seeing the situation here must have hurt you, but I’m glad you’re here. I’ll need your help in working out this situation. I’ve already told you about her tragic and hopeless situation. I’ve already asked Soodji to make some arrangement for her to stay with a decent family and send her to school. But before that she must be treated in such a way so as not to be reminded of her earlier misfortunes.’
Kanak sat without saying anything, her eyes downcast. Puri told her about meeting Sood when working at the dhaba, and about Sood’s invitation to manage the press. In between he implored Kanak, ‘She’s going to bring tea. Please ask her to sit with us.’ He continued, ‘I wrote to you at your Nainital address at the first chance I got. When no reply came, I wrote again. When I got no answer the second time, I sent a letter by registered mail.’
He got up and took out an envelope from a cupboard, and presented it to Kanak as a proof of what he said, ‘I was really desperate when this was returned. Then one day I ran into Nayyar in the court. He told me about your father staying near Delhi Gate, but did not give me the full address. Because of my past experience of his rudeness I did not inquire anything further.’
‘What did jijaji say to you?’ Kanak was asking when there was a noise behind them and Puri turned to look. Urmila had pushed forward a thali with tea on it, but had remained behind the door.
‘Come in, come in here,’ Puri took the thali and said to Urmila.
Kanak could not say anything, but just turned her eyes away.
Puri put the thali on the chatai, then went inside and talked Urmila into sitting with them. Both women sat with their heads down not looking at each other. Puri offered bread and snacks to both. He brought another cup and poured tea.
Kanak and Urmila still sat in silence. Perhaps Kanak was seeing again in her mind’s eye the sight she had witnessed on entering the house and Urmila’s ears were ringing with the conversation she had overheard. Puri repeated several times without looking at either of them or using either’s name, ‘Do eat something, have this, drink your tea. It’ll get cold.’
He put a piece of sweet barfi in his mouth, but in his state of mind felt that he was chewing on a lump of clay. Kanak ate nothing, just sipped at her tea. Urmila sat motionless.
Puri could not think of anything to do or say. He was guilty in the eyes of both of them. By the time he finished his tea, an idea had formed in his mind: ‘Even if these two can’t stand each other, they should at least behave themselves. Why are they being so difficult? If they hold any grudge against me, they should take it out on me.’
He remembered hearing that his grandfather had two wives. ‘Why should this seem so terrible? Men often had two wives, and many still do. These two should at least stop behaving badly.’
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and they heard, ‘Arey Puri, how’re you? What’s the matter?’
Puri gave a start, and jumped to his feet. He was heading towards the landing when they heard, ‘Are you still in bed?’
The unlatched door opened to a push from outside. Sood came in and what he saw stopped him in his tracks.
Behind Puri sat two young women on the chatai, their heads lowered, and looking upset. This sight so embarrassed Sood that he turned back and went downstairs without saying a word. Puri had begun to follow him when Sood called, ‘Puri, come downstairs.’
Puri found Sood and his peon Jagannath standing at the foot of the stairs. Sood’s face was flushed with anger. He asked the peon to go outside and sit in the waiting tonga, and led Puri into the office. He closed both doors to the room, and said, ‘What are you up to? You’ll blacken your name, and mine too. You pretend to be what’s-its-name sick, but are enjoying yourself with two different women. If such a thing doesn’t make you sick, what will? I told you to get married to what’s-her-name the first one, or to send her back to her family. And now I find that you’ve got two of them!’ Sood’s tone became severe, ‘Who do you think you are anyway? Some prince or raja that you need what’s-its-name a harem for yourself?’
‘Bhaiji, listen to me please. It’s not my fault. The other one arrived just now. What could I do?’ Puri tried to explain.
Sood cut him short, ‘Not your fault? You were sitting with them as if you were all married. And you have the cheek to lie to me!’
‘Bhaiji, go up and see for yourself. Raldu brought up her bag and blanket, that stuff is still laying beside the door. She didn’t warn me about her coming.’
‘How is it that a girl can show up without any warning? Have you been up to these shady games before coming here? You think such behaviour will brighten up what’s-its-name the Congress image?’
‘Why do you think that, bhaiji! She is Kanak, daughter of Pandit Girdharilal. She saw the poster for the weekly, and came here.’
‘You told me that nothing had been what’s-its-name arranged between you and her. You lie about everything.’ His anger rose a notch. ‘If nothing was arranged, why did she come here? Why don’t you admit that you had what’s-its-name deserted her and were trying to catch another one? Is that any way to behave, luring girls from decent respectable families? If you want to do that, pack your bags and get out of here!’
‘Bhaiji, at least listen to my explanation.’
‘What explanation? Haven’t I seen enough with my own eyes?’
‘You told me to send Urmila away. Since then I’ve been trying to find some place for her…’
‘Why didn’t you ask me?’ Sood cut in. When Puri did not reply, he added accusingly, ‘You thought I couldn’t figure it out? Are you trying to fool me? Why are you playing about with what’s-his-name Girdharilal’s daughter? You want to have two at one time?’
‘Bhaiji, I don’t want anything. If there’s any proof that I called Kanak here, you can have me shot. Her brother-in-law Mahendra Nayyar is an advocate in Jalandhar. She might have come to visit her sister and dropped in to see me.’
‘She came with her what’s-its-name baggage and bedding here to meet her sister?’ Sood retorted angrily, ‘Why did you ask for my help if you wanted to behave like this? Why did you apply for the secretaryship of what’s-its-name the ward committee? You’ll drag your name, mine and the good name of the Congress party through the mud. How can you continue to be the editor of a weekly paper?’
How could Puri admit to himself that he was caught up in a web of his own making? He saw himself as the victim of circumstances. In response to Sood’s accusations, he wanted to shout back: ‘I don’t give a damn about you, nor do I care about the press and the paper.’ But he couldn’t. The accusations levelled against him were being taken as true. Feeling helpless he kept quiet, and Sood also remained silent.
‘Bhaiji,’ Puri said in a pleading voice. ‘A set of coincidences is making me look guilty.’
Obviously angry and concerned, Sood took off his Gandhi cap and ran his fingers through his hair as he stood thinking. Then he pushed his hands into the pockets of his bandi jacket and looking at the wall, said, ‘Come on, let’s go back upstairs. This matter has to be cleared up.’
Sood was climbing the stairs ahead of Puri, but stopped halfway. Remembering that there were women upstairs, he said to Puri, ‘You go first.’
In the room, Kanak was sitting alone on the chatai.
‘Bhai Soodji is the parliamentary secretary,’ Puri said to Kanak.
In response to Kanak’s namaste, Sood asked, ‘You’re the daughter of Pandit Girdharilal of Gwal Mandi?’
Kanak nodded in confirmation.
‘Where is Panditji now?’
‘In Delhi.’
‘You came here with his permission?’
Kanak resented the question, but she replied, ‘I was in Lucknow. I came from there.’
‘Why did you come without telling him? That was not right.’
‘What is that to you!’ she lifted her eyes and showed her annoyance at his questioning.
‘Yes, this does concern me.’ Anger was making Sood stutter again, ‘You aren’t married yet.’
Kanak hung her head in response to this outrageous insult. Without looking at Sood she replied in English, ‘What has all this got to do with you anyway?’
‘I’ve told you that it does concern me. Panditji is an old and respected member of what’s-its-name the Congress party. I am concerned about his reputation. Puri is like m-my what’s-its-name brother. I’m bothered about his image being smeared. If what’s-his-name Panditji wants the pair of you to get married, you’re a part of my problem too.’
The way Sood silenced Kanak by stating his authority over her made Kanak feel that her brother-in-law Nayyar had appeared in a more belligerent avatar. She sank her head even lower and had difficulty in breathing. She wanted to look at Puri for support.
‘Bhaiji,’ Puri said boldly, ‘I used to visit her house in Lahore and she also came to our place.’
Kanak gave a sigh of relief.
Sood rebuked Puri, ‘Did Panditji allow you to be alone together before getting married? Don’t be silly. Why don’t the two of you just get married? Panditji wants it and you both want it. Why are you both bent on blackening his name and mine?’
Puri said nothing.
Kanak covered her eyes with her aanchal to hide her tears. She could not bear to deal with such a situation in front of a person like Sood. If her brother-in-law had rebuked her in this way, she would have replied, ‘All right, just get us married off!’ But what to say to a stranger asserting rights over her?
Pointing to Kanak in tears, Sood said to Puri, ‘This won’t serve any purpose. I’ll write to what’s-his-name Panditji today to arrange your marriage without delay and stop all this nonsense. Also she can’t stay here. Let her go off to her sister’s. You can go and what’s-its-name visit her there.’
Sood crossed his arms over his chest and let out an angry hiss to show that his decision was final and irrevocable. Turning to Puri he asked quietly, ‘Where’s the other one?’
Moving like a puppet, Puri went towards the aangan to check. Urmila was sitting absolutely motionless in the aangan, her back to the wall and her head on knees clasped between her arms. Puri stood looking at her for a few moments. He could not bring himself to ask her to face Sood in such a state. He went back inside, and pointed to the door to the aangan.
Sood stood uncertainly, then went out into the aangan. He stopped in front of the motionless figure seated against the wall and spoke in a serious tone, ‘You don’t really want to get married, y-y-you want to be independent, so what’s the point in staying here?’
Without waiting for her reply, he continued, ‘You should learn some skill. Go to the Normal School, train as a nurse or get some kind of a job. If you want to go to college or take some kind of training, your expenses will be taken care of. There’s no sense in your remaining here.’
Urmila, head on her knees, seemed too stunned to reply.
Sood asked, ‘You want to get to the Normal School or the nursing school?’
Urmila still remained silent and motionless.
Sood thought for a moment, then said, ‘Achchha, the nurse from the hospital will come to get you.’ He walked towards the stairs, and Puri followed him.
Puri saw Sood off at the main entrance to the press. Sood got into the tonga waiting in the gali without saying a word, and the tonga drove off. Puri did not have the courage to face Kanak and Urmila together. He sat downstairs in the office and thought about what he could do next. He felt trapped and could see no way out. Where could Urmila go? She was in no way to blame. How could he let her down? But he could not let Kanak down either. He was equally guilty in the eyes of both.
Rikhiram came and asked him something. Without knowing what he was asked, Puri blew up, ‘Am I supposed to do everything here? Don’t I have to get the weekly ready?’ He pulled himself together, and his voice took on a tone of authority, ‘Should I attend to Soodji or listen to you? You had your own press once. Can’t you make decisions for yourself?’
Rikhiram replied politely to this rebuke, ‘I’m doing what I can, but it also makes sense to check things with the boss.’
Resentment rose in Puri’s heart. Sood’s sly manipulation was demoralizing. Why should he put up with it? ‘Why should Soodji interfere in my affairs? I alone am responsible for my actions. I am prepared to deal with it and face the consequences, even at the cost of my life. What had happened in those abnormal circumstances could not be judged according to regular standards. It would take unusual considerations to find solutions. I myself will have to bear the consequences, not someone else. I simply cannot send away either woman. The problem concerns the three of us, no one else should interfere. But where would I be without Soodji’s goodwill? The house and the press belong to me only through his generosity. The three of us just cannot leave the house and be out on the street.’ The storm of protest in his mind subsided.
Puri realized that Urmila had been the victim of great misfortune, which he was unable to ward off. The unbearable agony of his helplessness made him want to tear out his heart with his own hands. He had nothing to offer as a solution. What, then, was the point of facing Kanak and Urmila again?
In that fit of impotent anger and frustration he felt caught in the trap of the press, the house and Nazir. How could he break through the strong invisible mesh that entangled him? How could he have got into all this trouble without the bait of a press and a house? Wouldn’t a job as a helper and dishwasher at Chandan’s dhaba have been better than this humiliation?
The clatter of machinery stopped and he realized that it was one o’clock. Noticing that he had forgotten to wind up his watch that morning, his fingers absent mindedly wound it up. He still could not muster the courage to go upstairs to his apartment.
The work resumed after the lunch break. His eyes went to his watch. Half an hour had gone by. He asked the peon for a drink of water.
There was a rattling at the lock chain at the main entrance to the press. The peon went to check and came back with a middle-aged woman who looked like a servant. The woman handed Puri an envelope addressed to him. It was a letter from the civil hospital. On Sood’s order, the hospital ayah had come to get Urmila.
Puri felt he was being turned into an unfeeling machine, that he was being forced to do something wrong. He sat idle for a few moments more.
The ayah reminded Puri, ‘Babu, call the girl. The ambulance is waiting in the gali. The driver will be upset.’
Puri summoned all his strength to get up. ‘I’ll call her,’ he replied, and went upstairs.
Since Sood had left after pronouncing his decision, Urmila had remained sitting against the wall in stunned silence. After a few minutes the realization dawned on her, ‘They’re throwing me out! Where will I go? What refuge do I have in this world?’ Tears ran down her cheeks. She felt like screaming and crying, but how could she let that saut, that other woman, hear her wailing? She calmed down, and with her head bent, wept in silence. Her ears were alert for any sound of footsteps. If ‘he’ came, she would clasp his feet in her hands and beg, ‘Don’t throw me out into the street. I’ll do anything you say, I’ll stay in some corner and keep out of your way. Or give me some poison and kill me, but don’t make me leave.’
But when nobody came, the suspense made her ever more miserable. Her tears had dried up. The sun climbed up and was now overhead, leaving a yard-wide strip of shade at the base of the wall against which her back rested. She had not moved from her spot. Then she heard footsteps. At last, it was Puri. She rose quickly. Puri’s eyes were red too.
‘The woman from the hospital is here to take you with her. Don’t worry. I’ll come and explain everything to you. Take some clothes. The ayah’s waiting downstairs.’ Puri spoke almost in a whisper.
She bit her lip to choke back her tears, and begged him with her palms joined, ‘Don’t make me leave. I…’
‘Don’t be upset. Just go now,’ Puri said in the same tone of voice, and quickly went back downstairs. He found it hard to stop himself from crying.
Urmila held her head in her hands and leaned against the wall for support. Then she sat down again. After a while she heard someone call her name from the stairwell. It was a woman’s voice.
Clenching her teeth, she forced herself to get up. Without bothering to hide the noise, she threw open her tin trunk, and took out a salwar-kameez suit and a dupatta. She knew that the other woman was sitting on the chatai in the next room. To avoid looking at her, Urmila walked past with her eyes averted. The ayah was waiting on the landing. Urmila followed her down, holding on to the side on the stairwell for support.
Puri was waiting in the doorway of the press. As Urmila went past him with her head bent, he held out his closed hand and said, ‘Take this, you might need it.’
Urmila ignored his extended fist.
Puri stood in the doorway and watched Urmila walk behind the ayah as they went through the gali towards the bazaar. The driver opened the door of the van and the ayah helped Urmila climb in, and then got in herself. The driver shut the door.
