Gently Falls the Bakula

by Sudha Murty

  ‘Shri, the computer is not everything in life. If you want me to learn about computers, then you study a little bit about my subject. Moreover, I am not interested in getting a degree for any financial gain. I obey what my heart tells me.’

  Shrikant found her words strange. ‘Shrimati, in real life you should always decide with your head, not with your heart. If you don’t do that, it’s disastrous.’

  ‘That is your way of thinking, Shri. I need not learn computers because there is an expert at home. I don’t have any inclination for it. Just because you have a rope at home do you go and buy a buffalo for that? Education and marriage are the two things where you have to obey your heart. In the West, you can change your marriage partner and your subject of education whenever you want, but not in our rigid society . . .’

  Shrikant stopped her speech by taking hold of her hands.

  ‘Now, what do you want? Tell me straight,’ he said.

  ‘Shri, let us go to some specialist . . .’

  ‘Why, what’s wrong with you? Are you unwell?’ Shrikant was perturbed.

  ‘No, Shri, I am perfectly all right, but don’t you think we should have children now? We are well settled financially. Both of us are over thirty, and thirty is late for a woman.’

  Shrikant was silent for a minute. Then he said, ‘Okay. Make an appointment and we will go.’

  The following week they met Dr Phadke. Dr Phadke was a senior doctor with more than fifty years of experience. He had seen many childless couples and could understand their anxiety.

  Shrikant did the talking. He asked questions about why they were unable to have children. Was there anything wrong? Was the defect in him or in Shrimati? Could it be corrected?

  Dr Phadke smiled.

  ‘Well, Mr Deshpande, where are you working?’

  Shrikant replied confidently, ‘I am the general manager of a software company.’

  ‘The human body is not a computer. Many a times we do not know why things happen in a particular way. We can give the probable reason but not the exact one. We can also prescribe a medicine that may possibly rectify the problem, but each human body reacts differently to the same medicine. So, it is not easy to give definite answers. However, I would like you both to undergo certain tests and get back to me with the results.’

  The whole of the following week, Shrikant and Shrimati spent taking all the tests that were advised by the doctor. Shrikant showed no emotion or anxiety during the tests whereas Shrimati underwent a turbulence of emotions. She prayed for good results.

  When they met Dr Phadke the next time, they could not make out what was on the doctor’s mind by looking at his face.

  After going through all the reports, Dr Phadke smiled and said, ‘Mr and Mrs Deshpande, both of you are educated and intelligent. So, it should be easy for you to understand this. Neither of you has any problem. But in order to have children, either the field or the seed must be very potent. If both are potent then it is very easy. But in your case, both have ordinary potency. In medical terms we call this “sub-fertile”. That does not mean that you cannot have children at all. It might perhaps take longer for you to conceive.’

  Shrimati’s eyes filled with tears of disappointment. But she took hold of herself and asked, ‘Doctor, you must have seen many cases such as ours. How long could it take for people like us to have children?’

  ‘Shrimati, other people’s experience is irrelevant for you. It depends upon the individual body. For some people it may take ten years and for others maybe only five. You should not lose heart.’

  Shrimati was holding back her tears until she reached home. As soon as they reached home, she burst into tears.

  Wouldn’t Ashoka, Vikramaditya, Siddhartha Gautama, about whom they had talked so much before marriage, be born in their family? Would there not be any heir to Shrikant’s and her intelligence? Would their family end there? Shrimati felt utterly hopeless and helpless. The gates of her dam of sorrows broke open and tears gushed out as floods.

  All the children she had dreamt of would remain only dreams. She remembered Gangakka referring to her as a barren woman. How could she convince the uneducated, unsympathetic Gangakka that she was not to be blamed, but neither was Shrikant. She continued sobbing.

  Shrikant came and put his arms around her. His touch only increased her sorrow. It was getting dark. Shrimati had not yet put the lights on. She felt that her life was full of darkness now.

  Shrikant consoled her. ‘Come on, Shrimati, take it easy. This is not the end of our lives. I don’t believe in such things. If we do not have children then we will have only one worry. On the contrary if we have children and if they don’t come up well, that will become a constant worry. We do not have any empire that we need someone to inherit. And if you think that you need to have children to look after us in our old age, forget it. What the hell have I have been doing for my mother other than sending money? If you are worried about who will perform our shraddha, then it is a foolish thought. I did not perform my father’s shraddha. Let us work hard, and start a charitable trust that can help many needy children. Besides, the doctor hasn’t said that it is impossible. We shall wait and see.’

  ‘Shri, I don’t want to wait any more. Can we adopt a child?’

  Shrikant suddenly became very serious. ‘Shrimati, think again. Other people’s children will never be ours. We naturally tend to pardon our own children’s mistakes, but it will not be possible to do that with someone else’s. I am not comfortable with that idea, somehow. Shrimati, you are an intelligent person. Use your energy for more constructive work.’

  Shrimati was stunned by Shri’s words.

  The very thought that she wouldn’t experience motherhood was hurting her deeply.

  EIGHTEEN

  After a very long time, Shrikant received a letter from Ravi Patil. Shrikant was now one of the prominent persons in his field in India and abroad. He had a secretary, Ms Priya, in the office. Over a period of time, he required someone at home too, who was smart, reliable and able to take responsibility and most importantly, intelligent and obedient. Shrimati soon became the extremely efficient personal secretary that Shrikant Deshpande had wanted at home. Shrikant did not have to create an official position for her. It was the obedient, understanding and helpful nature of Shrimati that had made Shrikant hand over such grave responsibilities to her. She believed that Shrikant was doing a great job and it was her duty to help him.

  In addition to looking after his personal correspondence, she had to be a good hostess to Shrikant’s personal and official guests too. Shrikant would merely sign all the letters that Shrimati would prepare. Shrimati had learnt basic computer skills and was able to use the internet and e-mail too.

  After much coaxing, Gangakka had been persuaded to visit them in Bombay. Thereafter, she made many trips. Her favourite part of the house was the balcony. She would not travel by bus or train any more. She would only fly.

  The success and prosperity of her son had made Gangakka more arrogant. However, she did not change her mind about Shrimati. She still thought it was bad luck that her son had married Shrimati.

  As she held Ravi’s letter in her hands, Shrimati’s mind went back to the good old Hubli days.

  Once upon a time, all of them were so close to each other but now, everyone was in their own world. Mallesh was married and had two daughters. He was running his father’s oil shop successfully and had amassed a lot of black money. He had gone on a world tour with his wife and on the way back had stayed with them in Bombay. They had talked about their schooldays and the boys’ vs girls’ team jokes.

  Jokingly, Mallesh had said, ‘I have two daughters so I am in the girls’ team now.’

  Shrimati noticed that though Mallesh had once been a very close friend of his, Shrikant hardly spoke to Mallya in a free and frank manner. It was Shrimati who spoke all the time.

  Ravi had been in the US for a long time now. His father would still convert the dollar salary into rupees and tel
l everyone how much his son was earning. Shrimati started reading the letter.

  Dear Shrikant,

  I don’t remember when I had written to you last. The gap has not been intentional but only due to the changes in our address.

  My father informs me once in a while about your progress. But the other day when I saw you at the conference on software technology at SFO on CNN, I was delighted. You have not changed much physically. But you have achieved great things in life. Your talk on the computer industry in the Third World was great. My hearty congratulations to you. Your speech had such authority and was very effective. I remembered our conversation on the train, the day we left IIT.

  Shrikant, there are very few achievers in life. Those who achieve what they set out to, are even more rare. What you have dreamt, you have realized. My heart jumps with joy. I also remember ‘the other hand of yours’ who is behind your success. She has been unassuming, undemanding, and totally submissive to your needs and to your achievements. Shrikant, without her, you would not have been what you are today.

  Let me write something about myself. Perhaps it is not an achievement at all in the worldly way. As you know, I used to read about psychology a lot in my IIT days. After coming to this country, I started studying more psychology than engineering. In our country, the future of children is decided by the parents! The reason could be our economic and social conditions. Parents feel that if the child does not take up engineering or medicine, then he or she cannot survive. They don’t care what the child really wants. After coming here, I realized that I prefer psychology to engineering and so I changed my subject. My decision made my father very angry. He thought I had gone mad. My sisters were equally upset and sent me tearful letters. However, I am in a country where such pressures are not important, so I did what I liked.

  I have completed my Ph.D and am working as a psychology professor in a college. In this rich country where personal freedom is more important, there are weak social bonds. So, there are a lot more psychological issues. Though I would like to come back to India, my profession might not fetch me the right job, so I am continuing here.

  I hope you receive this letter because I have picked up your address from Computer World magazine. Kindly reply.

  When I think of Shrimati, I continue to be amazed by her clear thinking and her wise decisions, like when she chose to join arts college in spite of getting the first rank in her tenth board exams. Do you remember that we had laughed at her? Now when I look back, I feel she was the brightest. She knew what she liked and she did exactly that. Shrikant, you are very lucky to get such a companion.

  What is the news of the rest of our friends? Anthony is in the merchant navy. I met him two years back. Vasudev Shenoy left engineering and joined the IAS. He is in Delhi. I heard that you visit the US often. The next time you are here, please call me on this number, 215-386-6660. I would like to meet you and Shrimati whenever I am in India. Please remember me to Shrimati.

  Yours affectionately,

  Ravi

  Shrimati was disturbed after reading Ravi’s letter. Of late her self-esteem had gone down so much that she wondered whether she really deserved all of Ravi’s compliments. If she was so clear in her thinking, then why was she so disturbed? She didn’t know.

  Shrimati wanted Shrikant to read Ravi’s letter and talk about it. So she kept it next to his plate on the dining table. In her heart of hearts she hoped Shri would read the compliments that Ravi had paid her and say a few words of praise to her.

  Shrikant did read the letter and without any emotion, he said, ‘Please enter the contact details in my personal diary and our system.’

  Shrimati was disappointed.

  NINETEEN

  Shrikant got busy preparing the statistical data of his company as he was to leave for a business tour round the world. After this trip the company was planning to list its shares on the stock exchanges of other countries. So, this tour was crucial.

  Recently, the company had adopted the ESOP plan. The ESOP concept had been recently introduced in India. When a company went public, all employees got a stock option, as a result of which they all became shareholders of the company. The employees of Shrikant’s company were very happy because it was seen as a great incentive to continue to work in that company. Shrikant being one of the oldest employees had been offered a very large chunk of the stock. Because of that Shrikant had become a millionaire. It was very rare for a lower-middle-class person to become so rich in such a short time. It was ironical that though he was not obsessed with money, it had come to him.

  Shrimati was unwell. She was suffering from the flu, and it had left her extremely weak. In spite of that she had to do Shrikant’s packing. He was going to be away for a month so she had to make sure he had everything he would need.

  Shrikant and Shrimati had now moved up into the neo-rich circle. She had two drivers, a cook and a maid to help with the housework. Shrikant now owned a brand new Mercedes Benz. Shrimati too had her own car and driver.

  Shrikant had wanted to shift to South Bombay—the prestigious Cuffe Parade or Malabar Hill—as his status had changed. But it would take a long time to find a proper house with all the documents in order and Shrikant did not have so much time. He asked Shrimati to talk to a good real estate agent and check out what was available while he was away. However, Shrimati did not show much interest.

  Shrikant noticed that Shrimati was very unwell and was quite upset. ‘Shrimati, you don’t listen to me at all. All the time you sit in the balcony and watch the sea. The sea breeze has affected you. If you fall ill now, how can I go? My schedule will be upset and our company will suffer. Do you realize how important this is?’

  ‘Shri, there is no connection between me watching the sea and you going abroad. Regardless of my health, you must go,’ Shrimati told him patiently.

  To which Shrikant replied in a gentle tone, ‘Shrimati, that was not the reason. If you are unwell and if I am out of town, it worries me. However, if you need anything, please contact Harish.’

  Harish was Shrikant’s junior colleague in the company. But they were close to each other as they had been classmates at IIT. Such things happened in the corporate world. Your classmates could become your subordinates. Capability is measured in terms of the success in one’s career! Shrimati herself was the prefect example. Once upon a time she was considered much brighter than Shrikant, but now she could not be compared with him in any respect.

  After Shrikant left, Shrimati went to bed again. Silently she prayed, let Shrikant cancel his tour and come back. Let there be some problem with the aircraft so that Shrikant is unable to go, she thought. That day she wanted someone to sit next to her and comfort her, someone who would come and stay with her. She missed her mother.

  The next day, her temperature increased and Shrimati found it difficult to breathe. She was supposed to visit Vandana that week, but knew she would not be able to go. She was sleeping all alone in the huge, beautifully done-up bedroom.

  The cook was on leave and the maid went away in the evening after she finished her work.

  Shrimati could not sleep. She kept thinking, if I die, no one would even know. What kind of a life is this. It was so empty, so lonely in spite of all the wealth that Shrikant had earned!

  The next morning, her maid Champa came as usual and rang the doorbell. But nobody answered the door. Champa got scared and went to the neighbour, Mr Jamshed Mehta, as he had an extra set of keys for the house. Mrs Mehta came with the key and opened the door. She was shocked to see that Shrimati had a very high fever and was in a stupor. She called up Nanavati Hospital and Shrikant’s company. Arrangements were made to admit her immediately. Harish, his wife Prabha and Vandana rushed to the hospital.

  Dr Patel, one of the seniormost doctors told them, ‘Nothing to worry. She needs proper medication and rest. Can anyone stay with the patient?’

  Vandana got worried and told Harish, ‘Please call up Shrikant. If something goes wrong, then . . .’
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  But Harish knew Shrikant’s nature very well. He wouldn’t come unless there was an emergency. So he told the doctor, ‘Mr Deshpande is out of the country and it will be some time before he can come back. Please arrange for a private nurse, and never mind the expenses.’

  Vandana was shocked. In her middle-class circle she could not imagine any husband leaving his wife when she was so sick. She remembered her own case. When she had gone into labour and the pain was unbearable, her husband Pramod had stood by her side comforting her and encouraging her. After the delivery he had taken a month off to stay with her. The doctors in the hospital teased her saying that Pramod had suffered more than Vandana!

  Vandana looked at her dear friend lying there, almost unconscious. For the first time, she pitied Shrimati.

  A handsome young husband who was extremely ambitious, travelling throughout the year, and in-laws who only spoke ill of her. Not even a child for company! Vandana’s mother often envied Shrimati’s life but Vandana had never felt that way. Today more than ever she appreciated her luck and was grateful that her life was a million times better than Shrimati’s. There was so much love, affection and kindness in her life unlike Shrimati’s. She wondered how Shrimati had lived with such odds!

  After a couple of days, Shrimati recovered her strength and was overjoyed to see her friend Vandana next to her. Vandana insisted that Shrimati should come to her house and rest for a few days, but Shrimati refused, knowing it would mean extra work for her friend. Also, Vandana’s children were small.

  After a week in hospital, Shrimati returned home. The first thing she had told Harish when she felt a little better in the hospital was not to inform Shrikant about her illness. She knew it would affect his state of mind and he would not be able to concentrate on his work.

  Harish was surprised. If his wife Prabha were in the same situation, she would have called up at least ten times, scared him and created a scene. And he too would not have stayed away from her on office work in such a case.