All very true, but so difficult to accept.
Anupurba raised the same topic when she was with Ranjana later that day. After a brief silence, Ranjana had said philosophically, ‘Future? Does anyone know the future? But then, things aren’t entirely hopeless, are they? Look at our Radhika. Or Noor. They are carrying on.’
‘Yes, but it’s a familiar world in which they are living. There’s a bigger world beyond this.’
‘Yes, there is. Several of them have slowly set foot on that as well—several of the children of our own school. Raghav is a graphic designer now. Sharbari is a receptionist in an office. Jayita is a Customer Relations Officer in a company . . .’
Ranjana might have named others but Anupurba interjected. ‘But what about their personal lives? Can they ever find a companion? And you’ve told me yourself that they have all the same desires and aversions as normal people.’
Ranjana looked directly at Anupurba’s face. In a low voice, she said, ‘Let me tell you something, Anupurba. What you just mentioned is true. Spastic children have the same wants as ordinary children. The same hunger, thirst, fear. And more.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Even the same sexual desires. They have healthy minds. How can they not want physical companionship? But they . . .’
She was unable to continue.
Anupurba’s eyes were wet too.
‘You know, we provide them sex education when they grow up. We do it differently from the way it’s done in other schools. Here we tell them to take care of their desires; we teach them that masturbation is no sin.’
Anupurba could take it no more. ‘I have to go. Tons of things to do,’ she said as she hurried out of the door.
She might have said the words to put an end to the disturbing conversation, but it was a fact that she needed to reach home on time. Their close friends from the US, Sudha and Arun, were to arrive on Friday evening. Jeet and Bobby had been close to their two children since they were very young. They were all coming to spend two days with them and then fly to Kerala on Monday for a vacation. Anupurba was looking forward to their arrival.
~
Anupurba felt unusually cheerful and happy as she drove to Asha Jyoti on Monday afternoon. But once in class, her joy vanished.
The garrulous Shweta was totally quiet today. She wore a thick cotton scarf tied round her head. Prabha, who was sitting on Shweta’s right, was repeatedly asking her something. No response from Shweta. Raja, on her left, was also questioning her in a low voice, with an anxious look in his eyes. Shweta was quiet.
‘What happened, Shweta?’ Prabha said in a loud voice suddenly, sounding irritated. ‘Can’t you answer my question?’
Shweta opened her mouth at last. ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone,’ she said.
‘Why?’ The ten-year-old Prabha wouldn’t give up.
‘My wish!’
‘Very well, don’t talk if you don’t want to, but let me braid your hair.’ Prabha pulled the black scarf off Shweta’s head before she could say anything. And in the very next moment, not only she, but the rest of the class, seemed to turn into stone.
Shweta’s long curly hair was gone. It had been cropped short. Rather awkwardly at that.
Shweta burst into sobs. The class looked on in silence. Before Anupurba could speak, Raja had left his chair and moved to her side. Tying the black scarf back tenderly round Shweta’s head, he said, ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just your hair—it will grow again soon. Nothing to worry. Don’t cry, Shweta! Your hair will grow back in six months.’
‘Will it really, Raja?’ Shweta said, weeping.
‘It will, I promise you! You’ll see!’
‘I don’t know why my mother got annoyed with me,’ Shweta said. ‘I hadn’t done anything. My younger brother was sleeping and I just spread my hair over his face. I was playing with him. He got frightened and started crying. But I didn’t want to frighten him. Why did my mother get so angry?’
Raja did not know either Shweta’s mother or her younger brother; but still, he stroked her arm softly and said, ‘I’m sure she isn’t angry. All right, tell me who tied that scarf round your head?’
‘My mother.’
‘You see! Would she do that if she was angry? Maybe she was frightened too! But she loves you. That’s why she tied the scarf round your head!’
An irrefutable argument.
Shweta stopped sobbing at last.
‘My mother isn’t angry?’
‘No, not at all. She loves you,’ he repeated.
‘And my hair will grow again?’
‘Yes’
Shweta smiled.
Raja went back to his place.
Prabha, who had been watching the scene nervously, suddenly clutched Shweta’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, Shweta,’ she said.
‘It’s all right.’ Once again she was her old self. ‘Raja said my hair will grow back in six months. Now it will be even nicer than before. Then you can braid my hair. Anupurba Aunty, I have heard that hair becomes thicker when it is cut, is that true?’
Anupurba had been reduced to silence by the entire episode. She was startled by her question.
‘Yes, it will become even more beautiful than before, Shweta. You’ll see!’
Shweta went back to her drawing.
Anupurba was lost in thought. She looked at the profusion of Bangalore’s spring flowers outside the window of her class, and the faces of the children appeared in her mind’s eye and seemed to be reflected in them.
Painting by Arun Cherian © Spastics Society of Karnataka
Thirteen
There were still a few minutes before the end of the class when Shobha came rushing into the Art Room.
‘Purba, do you have some time to spare after the class? Can you come out with me for an hour or two?’
‘Why, what’s the matter?’ Anupurba was alarmed.
‘I’ll tell you later. Come to the reception when your class gets over. I’ll be waiting for you.’
After the class, Anupurba closed the cupboard full of paintings and went to the reception. Shobha was already there, waiting for her impatiently. She looked worried. She was running her eyes over some papers but they seemed to take in nothing.
‘Shobha!’
‘Oh, you are here. Let’s go. Can we use your car?’
‘Yes, of course. But where are we going?’
‘I will tell you in a moment.’ Shobha was not her usual self.
As soon as they got into the car, Shobha asked Somashekhar to drive to an apartment block on Cunningham Road.
Cunningham Road? So far away from the school? Why were they going there?
‘What’s the matter, Shobha? Where are we going?’ Anupurba asked again.
After a moment’s silence Shobha said, ‘I met Shubhendu today, Purba.’
‘Shubhendu!’ She had never thought she would hear that name again. ‘Is he in Bangalore?’
‘It seems he’s been here for the last eight years. And neither of us knew of the other’s presence.’ Her voice was muffled. She was looking through the window vacantly.
The past began to unfold before Anupurba’s eyes: Shobha and Shubhendu standing in front of the library for hours, chatting; arguing noisily about some character in a novel; lamenting the corruption that had gripped the country, wanting to change the world.
They had all been amazed. How could someone as handsome and brilliant as Shubhendu fall for a plain, straight-talking girl like Shobha? And this wasn’t the light-hearted romance of college life, but the serious commitment of two people who planned to spend the rest of their lives together. ‘Opposites attract,’ some said. Shobha wasn’t a brilliant student. Nor was she a great beauty. But she had the freshness of youth and an unusual, fiery spirit that made her different from others.
‘Reena is very ill,’ Shobha suddenly said.
Anupurba stared at her. Reena’s name on Shobha’s lips!
Reena was their classmate. But she had been quite differen
t from them. She was the only daughter of a wealthy business family—the first girl in three generations. She was pampered. She only had to make a wish and everyone would jump to fulfil it—father, uncles, brothers, everyone. Her older brother chauffeured her to college every morning and her younger uncle drove her back. The family kitchen catered exclusively to her tastes. When they vacationed, it was she who chose the place; when she went shopping with her mother or aunts it was never a single sari or one dress; it was always a pile of clothes. She rarely wore a dress twice. Anupurba had witnessed all of this.
Dazzling beauty that she was, Reena need not have gone to such pains to attract people, but when she came to college she was like an enchantress, casting a spell on the whole world.
Then one day she wished to possess Shubhendu.
Shobha’s Shubhendu.
Was it possible that Reena could want something and not get it? Anupurba never knew how it happened and nor did her friends, but one day Shubhendu, the best student of the MA Political Science class, broke off all relations with Shobha of the English Honours class.
And soon they learnt that he had a new love—Reena.
The BA examinations ended soon afterwards and Shobha moved to Delhi to do her Master’s degree in Sociology. Anupurba’s father was transferred to Berhampur and she moved there with the family. She took admission for an MA degree in English Literature from Berhampur University. Life moved on.
Then one day when she was in the final year, she received a wedding invitation. Shubhendu was getting married to Reena. She had torn up the card in anger and disgust. Since that day she had heard nothing of either Shubhendu or Reena.
‘How did you get to know that Shubhendu was here?’ she asked slowly.
‘I didn’t know,’ Shobha said haltingly. ‘For the last two or three years Asha Jyoti has been receiving cheques regularly from R.S. Industries. Not huge amounts, but not too small either. Although Mrs Mathur has been communicating her thanks to their Chairman over the telephone, I thought I must visit them at least once in person. I couldn’t find the time earlier, but finally I made an appointment and went there this morning. And I found the company’s Chairman was . . .’ Her voice trailed off.
Anupurba was amazed. ‘Shubhendu?’
Shobha silently nodded.
‘He looks so different now,’ Shobha said. ‘Though he hasn’t put on weight, his hair has thinned a lot and there are dark circles below his eyes. But then we all have changed a lot too. You couldn’t recognize me at the Art Exhibition the other day, could you? But Shubhendu recognized me at once.’
‘What about you?’
Shobha smiled dryly. There was a time when she could recognize even his footsteps.
‘And then?’ Anupurba asked.
‘He told me all about himself as we talked.’
‘What was there to tell? Don’t we know everything?’ Anupurba was bitter.
Shobha sighed. ‘Why rake up the old story?’
‘Quite right. Eighteen years is a long time.’
‘He married Reena after he got into the civil services,’ Shobha said haltingly.
‘I know.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, I received the wedding invitation when I was in my final year.’
‘Oh. After he had served in various places for a few years, he quit to set up his own business at his in-laws’ insistence and Reena’s wish. Eventually they shifted to Bangalore. Reena had grown to like the city. And it was here that their first child was born, eight years after their marriage. A son. But he was a spastic.’
‘Spastic! Oh my God!’
Who could imagine that such a thing could ever happen in Reena’s life!
‘Yes. Reena nearly went mad. So did Shubhendu. They took the child to the US. Then they had him admitted to a hospital in Germany, where he remained for a long time. But it didn’t do any good. They were forced to come back to India. That was when Reena had her first nervous breakdown. She was convinced that someone was using black magic to destroy her life.’
Black magic! Anupurba could not imagine Reena being capable of such thoughts.
‘Someone must have planted the idea in her mind. Everyone in her parent’s home was concerned. They consulted numerous doctors. Finally, their family physician advised them that Reena could become normal if she had another child.’
‘Did she have another child?’
‘Yes, she had a son a year ago. But this child too has cerebral palsy.’
‘What are you saying?’ Anupurba cried out.
Only a moment ago she had been cursing Reena mentally. But what could be a greater curse than the life she must be living?
‘Her entire world is shattered. She had a second nervous breakdown a few months ago. And now, Shubhendu told me, she does nothing all day but keep watch over her two children like a hawk. There are trained nurses to look after them but she won’t trust anyone. She won’t sleep at night. She refuses to take any medicines for fear she might drop off to sleep, leaving her children unprotected. Her mental condition is getting worse by the day. Who knows what will happen if things go on like this?’
‘Why don’t they send the children to Asha Jyoti? The older child must be old enough to go to school.’
‘That’s why we are going there now, Purba,’ Shobha said. ‘To see Reena and Shubhendu. He thinks she may agree if we—I explain things to her.’
‘You? You are to explain things to Reena? How could he make such a request to you?’
‘Shubhendu’s request was to a professional in Asha Jyoti and not to any particular individual. How could I have refused?’
After a brief silence she said, ‘I did agree when Shubhendu spoke to me, but when I was returning to Asha Jyoti I had doubts. I didn’t have the courage. I couldn’t have asked anyone else to accompany me, but you know everything, and so . . .’
~
Cunningham Road was in the prosperous part of Bangalore. Fairly old, and close to the Cantonment Railway Station, it must have gotten its name from the British. Where old colonial bungalows once stood on an acre or so of land, apartment complexes had now come up. Anupurba and Shobha stopped at the gate of one such apartment complex. From the outside, there was no sign of opulence. But inside, it was like a five-star hotel. A big marble lobby with a fountain in the middle, stairs of black granite and the expensive chandelier made it obvious that only the very rich lived here.
‘Which apartment, Madam?’
Shobha told the guard the number.
‘What is your name, Madam?’
‘Shobha,’ she replied mechanically.
The man dialled a number on the intercom and after a couple of rings, spoke.
‘Shobha Madam to visit you, Sir. Okay, Sir. Yes, I’ll send them up. Thank you, Sir.’
Sir. Shubhendu was obviously at home.
Anupurba had regarded Shubhendu with curiosity when she was in college, especially after she had come to know of his relationship with Shobha. But she had hardly known him. Should she descend on him unannounced? There was nothing wrong in it, she told herself. She too was a representative of Asha Jyoti.
The security guard led them to the lift, respectfully holding the door open.
As she pressed the button marked ‘3’, Anupurba realized that there were only six apartments in this enormous residential complex. You couldn’t expect someone like Reena to be cooped up in a pigeon hole, could you? Her family would never have allowed it.
Anupurba checked herself suddenly. Why was she so bitter? If Shobha could forgive Shubhendu and Reena, why was she, merely a spectator, so unforgiving?
She told herself to become calm.
The door was open when the two got off the elevator and Shubhendu himself was there to greet them.
‘This is Anupurba, she teaches at Asha Jyoti. You may not remember her but she was in our college.’
‘Hello,’ said Shubhendu, ‘Please come inside.’
Thank God, it wasn’t anything more than that. And w
hy should it be any other way? Anupurba suddenly lost all her discomfiture and regarded it simply as a social worker’s visit. Her knowledge of the past was irrelevant.
As the two stepped in, Shubhendu told them that he would take them rightaway to his wife’s room. For a fleeting moment, Anupurba felt a twinge of anxiety about meeting a neurotic woman. But the next moment, they were face to face with Reena.
Shubhendu announced, ‘These ladies are from Asha Jyoti. I told you about Asha Jyoti, didn’t I? The cerebral palsy school.’
Reena looked at them with narrow, distrustful eyes for a while. Then she said in a voice devoid of all emotion, ‘You are Shobha. And you are Anupurba, aren’t you?’
‘How are you, Reena?’ Anupurba asked. Shobha said nothing.
‘Why have you come here?’ Reena said.
Shubhendu was embarrassed. He said, almost in a whisper, ‘They have come from Asha Jyoti. I asked them to come. For Tito and Luna.’
‘For Tito and Luna? Why Tito and Luna?’ Her voice was bitter.
Shobha seated herself on the sofa next to Reena. ‘Shubhendu told us that Tito isn’t going to school yet,’ she said gently. ‘Luna is too young to go to school, but Tito should be going, shouldn’t he?’
‘Why?’ Reena was confrontational.
‘He’s eight years old now.’
‘So? Why does he need to go to school? Is he going to get a job? Or look after his parents?’ There was sarcasm in her voice.
‘That’s not the only reason for sending a child to school. There’s so much to learn.’
‘That’s enough. Have you come here to give me advice?’
‘Why should I do that?’
‘Why else would you say such things? About a child like Tito? Don’t you know he’s incapable of learning anything?’
‘Who told you that, Reena? Shubhendu has told me everything. Tito has cerebral palsy. That means he has a physical problem for sure, but maybe there is nothing wrong with his brain. He can learn things at school, like many other children. It will take time, but it’s possible. Besides, we don’t just make children study at Asha Jyoti. We give them many different kinds of education. We give them therapy. Counselling. Soon there will be vocational training as well. Tito may even become self-reliant if he goes to Asha Jyoti for a few years.’
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