Gently Falls the Bakula

by Sudha Murty

  Shashi, a science student, had been reluctant to come on this historical tour. He would have preferred to spend the day in Dharwad, watching the latest movie. He was bored and kept looking at his watch.

  They reached Badami, a sleepy little hamlet. It was no longer like Vatapi, the capital of the glorious Chalukya empire of the past. They parked the car at the bottom of the hills and went up to see the caves.

  There are three huge granite hills in the middle of the town. The cave temples are carved out of these hills. Probably, this is one of the places where the concept of cave temples originated. There are Jain and Hindu cave temples. The steps carved in the hill lead to all the temples.

  When seen from top, Badami looks like a village that will never ever wake up, shrivelled in its poverty, having forgotten, forever, its glorious past.

  Shrimati explained.

  ‘Sir, when you look at the caves, you can see the pillars and one assumes that the pillars take the weight of the temple. But in reality, that is not true. The pillars are all false pillars. This concept was later copied in many cave temples. You can see Lord Ganapati, the famous deity with a human body and elephant head. He is known as Vatapi Ganapati.’

  Professor Collins was observing everything keenly.

  Shrimati continued, ‘In the olden days, the ceilings of these caves were covered with beautiful paintings. But now they have disappeared due to the lack of protection and ignorance.’

  ‘Shrimati, tell me more about the paintings.’

  Shashi realized that if the conversation went on this way, they wouldn’t reach Dharwad before midnight. He could not understand why they were talking so much about some invisible paintings. He decided to go sit in a canteen and read a magazine. Saying he would be back in a minute, he slipped away.

  Shrimati and Professor Collins did not notice his absence.

  ‘Sir, the technique of this type of painting was unique. It must have been difficult to paint in these caves without proper ventilation and light. The artist really had to struggle to reach the ceiling and paint on it. They used natural vegetable colours, powdered coloured stones, molasses, lime and other material from nature. They would first prepare the surface of the wall using a mixture of earth, powdered stone, some husk like material, molasses and cow dung. They would then apply a coat of lime on it. After it dried they would use the colours and finally polish it smooth. The paintings of the Ajanta caves used the same technique. Among them, the Court of Parameshwara Pulakeshi, the Dark Princess and many other paintings remain as beautiful after all these centuries.’

  Shrimati pointed out the sculptures of the eighteen-handed dancing Shiva, the Caves of Mangalesha, and numerous yaksha-yakshinis, the Sleeping Vishnu, and many more artistic depictions.

  Before they knew it, lunchtime had long gone by. The sun was a little hotter but the enthusiasm of these two people was not dampened by the temperature or the time.

  In spite of his age and the hectic morning Professor Collins’s spirits were as high as a teenager’s.

  They had a late lunch and headed for Aihole and Pattadakal.

  Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal are known as the golden triangle of North Karnataka. They are also world heritage sites. The word Pattadakallu means a place where kings were crowned. These areas are known as the cradle of temples because different types of temple architecture were tried here. Even now, you can see the Nagara, Dravida and Chalukya style of temples in one place. Papanatha, Durga and Latsab temples are examples of it.

  They continued with their sightseeing until it became dark.

  By the time they returned, Shrimati had overcome her shyness and was able to speak to Professor Collins without any hesitation.

  ‘Sir, you must see the temple of Kailasanatha at Ellora. It is as beautiful as the Taj Mahal. Historians believe that to build such a temple, the Rashtrakutas would have probably spent a lot, more money than to fight a war. The fact that this lovely monument was carved out of a single rock, from the top downwards, makes it even more amazing. Sir, another thing one must not miss is the statue of the enigmatically smiling Bahubali at Shravanabelagola. That too is carved out of a single boulder. And then there are the temples of Belur and Halebeedu, with which the art of sculpture reached its pinnacle.

  ‘You need at least six months to see my country properly. You should visit us again, to comprehend the excellence my country has achieved in the creation of beauty in art and architecture.’

  When they finally reached Hubli it was ten at night. While Shrimati and Collins were tired, but extremely happy, they had upset all of Shashi’s plans.

  The next day Professor Collins was to leave and Shrimati came to see him off at Professor Rao’s house.

  ‘Sir, I’ve brought a small gift for you. I hope you enjoyed yesterday’s trip. To appreciate history, one need not be a historian. There was a famous mathematician in Pune who wrote about history. I have always admired his work. His name is Damodar Dharmapal Kosambi. I hope you will like the book.’

  Shrimati presented a copy of An Introduction to the Study of History.

  ‘Shrimati, students like you who are passionate about history must do research. If you wish, I can get you a scholarship at our university. You could either study archaeology or Asian history. You have no idea of the american system of education. It is heaven for students. You will find many facilities and excellent libraries. Students like you can do very well in that kind of atmosphere.’

  Shrimati was pleasantly surprised by this offer and shyly bowed her head.

  ‘Sir, thank you very much for your generous offer. It is very kind of you to make such an offer. But Sir, though I would like to come, I cannot accept it now. I am getting married this year.’

  ‘Congratulations. May I ask you a personal question? Who is the lucky man?’

  ‘He is a schoolmate of mine, Shrikant Deshpande.’

  ‘I don’t want to intrude in your personal life. But don’t you feel that if you don’t pursue your love of history, you will get frustrated and bored?’

  ‘Sir, I do love history but I love Shrikant as well. I can always continue my studies later. I believe that it is not necessary to have a doctorate to gain knowledge. For me, degrees do not matter.’

  ‘Very well, then, Shrimati. All the best for your future. I will send you photographs of our trip. Goodbye and goodluck.’

  Professor Mike Collins left Hubli, thinking about her . . . Research was not merely studying. It demanded many sacrifices and hard work. Would that be possible amidst the hundred responsibilities of a family life? That too in India? He suddenly thought of his wife Jane. How had she been able to continue with her research though she was married to him? Perhaps because they never had any financial constraints. Moreover, they were co-travellers on the same road, passionate about the same subject. Dorothy was their only child. She too followed in her parents’ footsteps, but disagreed with their views on marriage and family. She was living with her boyfriend Tony, who was her colleague. Although her mother had wanted them to get married, Dorothy had said a firm no.

  Her argument was, ‘Dad, why do we need to get married? Who says that the ultimate aim of a woman should be marriage? If marriage is only for togetherness, then aren’t we together now? As soon as you get married, expectations rise and it may or may not be possible to meet all the demands. It could result in a divorce . . . I am happier this way.’

  Of course, it did not mean that she had no respect or love for her parents. Only her values were different.

  Professor Collins felt that Shrimati had the potential to be an excellent research scholar, but she was so different from Dorothy. She was ready to sacrifice everything for marriage.

  Come to think of it, Shrimati was a better student than Dorothy, Professor Collins realized suddenly. From a very young age, Dorothy had had the advantage of a better environment and excellent training. She had toured the world with her parents and interacted with the best scholars in the subject, whereas Shrimati, who certainl
y possessed a sharper intellect, had never had such advantages. At this time, she was not aware of what she was getting into, but as the years pass and the attraction between husband and wife wane and the demands of marriage increase, she would realize what she had given up was immense. Professor Collins was convinced that Shrimati should not give up her studies but then, he thought, it was her decision and her life. Perhaps what she was doing was normal in India.

  NINE

  Kamala noticed Shrimati growing increasingly withdrawn. She wondered whether it was because Vandana was engaged. It was natural for any girl of marriageable age to think of herself in the same situation. There was no doubt that Shrikant’s recent visit had made her more restless.

  Kamala was aware of her daughter’s friendship with Shrikant and also of their meetings and letter-writing. But she had neither encouraged nor opposed it. She knew very well that her daughter was a sensible and mature girl. She would not do anything foolish.

  Like all mothers, she also thought about Shrimati’s marriage. And if by chance Kamala did not, her mother-in-law Rindakka was there to remind her about it every passing day, with a taunt. Kamala sighed, wondering whom she could discuss this matter with. Her husband was quite irresponsible. It was pointless talking to him about it.

  It was a full-moon night. Everything was quiet. Kamala was sitting alone on a stone bench, deeply immersed in thoughts of her daughter.

  ‘Avva, what are you thinking? Is it about me?’ She had not seen Shrimati come up.

  ‘Unh, yes, yes. About you and your future. You are about to complete your MA. What next?’

  ‘Avva, that is what I wanted to discuss with you . . .’

  ‘Is it about your marriage?’ Kamala interrupted Shrimati.

  Shrimati was surprised. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Is it with Shrikant? Did he say anything during his recent visit?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Kamala fell silent. Shrimati was perplexed since she had been sure her mother would agree at once, and with pleasure.

  ‘Why Avva, don’t you like him? Is it not correct? He is a good boy. We have known him for several years. Are you worried that he is still too young for marriage or that he is not yet working? He will speak to you when he comes next.’ Shrimati’s anxiety poured out in her words.

  ‘Shrimati, I am not worried about Shrikant. I know that he is a good boy and you will live happily with him. I am only concerned about their family and our relationship with them. Shrimati, more than a mother, I have been like a friend to you. I would like to give you some advice.

  ‘In our society, you marry not only an individual, but also his family. If I have understood them well, they will never accept you as a part of their family. They will never love you.’

  ‘Avva, that’s not true. It was probably so in your times. Those were the values of a bygone age! Things have changed now. Moreover, after the marriage I am not going to live with them! I will be with Shrikant and away from them.’

  ‘Shrimati, some things in life have remained unaltered from time immemorial. The relations between a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law are always strained. You have grown up as a free individual. You do not possess our patience. I want to tell you that every daughter-in-law always wants to be appreciated and loved by her in-laws. In your case, you will never get that. You will be loved only by Shrikant.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because their expectations from a daughter-in-law are very different from Shrikant’s expectations from a wife.’

  Shrimati was disappointed. Over the next few days she could only think about her mother’s advice. Why would her mother have said that? She was usually very silent and never said anything bad about anyone. Shrimati made up her mind to win over Rama and Gangakka.

  My Shrimati,

  This is the first time in five years that you have missed our letter-schedule.

  What is the matter? I was expecting a detailed letter from you after my return. But you have not written at all. You may have been surprised by my proposal of marriage. After knowing that Vandana is getting married, I was worried that your people would also start searching for someone for you. If that happened, then my Shrimati would slip away from my hands and become someone else’s Shrimati. In this fear, I proposed to you, though I am still a student. You are very precious to me. We have been good friends and I want that this friendship should end in marriage. In normal circumstances I would have broached this topic a couple of years after getting a job and settling down. But by then, according to our Hubli standards, you would have crossed the age of marriage. The pressure at home would have become too much for you to bear.

  Shrimati, I am aware that our marriage is not going to be a simple task. The enmity between our two families is well known. The opposition will come from both the families. I understand that my mother’s and your grandmother’s spectrum does not stretch beyond Dharwad. But life must move forward. Today, things are different.

  So, I hope we will be able to convince them and successfully cross this hurdle.

  I couldn’t talk to you much about my future plans as there was very little time. I am sure by now you know that I am ambitious. I don’t want to be an ordinary engineer with a government job in Hubli. I want to pursue my career in the field of computers. It is not necessary for me to go abroad for it. I can do it in India, learning the latest technologies right here.

  We had campus interviews recently. I have been selected by ABC Technology Ltd as a software engineer. They have offered me a good salary. Fortunately, my senior Vasudev Shenoy owns a house in Bombay. He is going abroad for three years and wants to give his house on rent. He is willing to give it to me.

  I want to be in Bombay. I am in love with the city. For an outsider, it is a mechanical city with no human relationships. We have to struggle to get even ordinary things in Bombay, including basic entertainment. But still I like Bombay. It is professional, it respects hard work. The beautiful and easy life of Hubli will not be found here. Will you live with me with all these things?

  I have written to my mother giving a hint about my job, my house and my desire to marry. But I have not told her your name. I am supposed to join the job in August. Whenever I am in Hubli next, I will speak to my mother about it. I have a small request. Our marriage should be very simple.

  Always yours,

  Shri

  TEN

  Gangakka too received a letter from her son. It was a special letter informing her that he had got a good job and had also found a house to live in. Reading his letter made Gangakka very happy. She thanked their family deity Lord Mylaralinga.

  But at the end of the letter, there were a few lines that disturbed her. Shrikant had written, ‘Avva, I am tired of hostel and hotel food. Now, I would like to get married and make a home in Bombay.’

  Gangakka didn’t like that. According to her, there was no hurry for him to get married. He was, no doubt, good-looking, had just finished his B.Tech., and already found a job. But he was only twenty-three years old. Twenty-three was a marriageable age for a girl, but not for a boy. If he was fed up of hostel and hotel food, he could always move back to Hubli, Gangakka thought.

  She did not understand why he had to be in Bombay, an unknown place for her. She thought of her distant cousin Shyam who was a PWD engineer. He was leading a comfortable life with a car and servants in Dharwad.

  Shrikant could definitely take up that kind of job. But it seemed that he wanted to be in Bombay.

  Gangakka did not have the slightest inkling about Shrimati.

  When a boy shows an interest in marriage, then it is unfair for a mother to keep quiet about it!

  Gangakka was extremely close to her daughter Rama. They thought alike and spoke alike. The only difference was in their age. She immediately wrote to her daughter about Shrikant’s decision to get married. For Rama, it was a most important occasion. She jumped with joy at the news and soon came to Hubli with her two children. Anyway, it was the su
mmer holidays.

  Mother and daughter started planning a strategy to find the kind of girl they would want for Shrikant. First of all, she had to be very obedient, extremely good-looking and from an affluent family. But they could not tell people that, they would have to put it differently.

  Gangakka usually met other women of her age at the discourses on the Puranas at the temple. At these discourses, given by a pandit or the temple priest, elderly people met, exchanged ideas and experiences and got to know about each other’s family matters. Such gatherings were also a broadcasting centre of news in the community. At one such meeting, Gangakka announced that she was looking for a bride for her son.

  ‘We are looking for a good graduate girl, but not for money. If an eligible, adjusting girl comes with just a coconut, we will still be happy,’ was her statement. But those who knew her, knew very well what she actually meant.

  Rama’s in-laws were greedy people. In order to please them Gangakka often sent them expensive gifts so that her daughter would have more prestige than the other daughters-in-law. Rama had a sister-in-law, Rajani. Now, Rama’s mother-in-law was after Rama to get her horoscope matched with Shrikant’s.

  Rama did not like the idea at all. Telling a lie was easy for the mother and daughter. Putting on an act, Gangakka pretended as if she was very sad, and told them, ‘I wish Rajani could have been my daughter-in-law! I was praying to god for that. But unfortunately the horoscopes did not match. How can we go ahead?’

  A horoscope mismatch was one of the best excuses to withdraw from an unwanted proposal.

  And Gangakka used this excuse as and when required.

  Sheenappa, Gangakka’s elder brother, was waiting for this chance. He wanted his daughter Ratna to marry Shrikant. It was customary for a boy to marry his maternal uncle’s daughter in North Karnataka.