Amrita

by Usha Rajagopalan

  Damn! Just when I thought I had him all to myself!

  "Auntie will give you company. . ." he said, not sounding very convincing.

  She was so quiet, what will we talk about? I was tempted to pack up and follow Sundar.

  Raghu continued before I could say anything. "Since I'll return before you leave, maybe I can accompany you till Mumbai. I have some work there as well. What do you say?"

  Well, if I couldn't get the whole loaf, at least I'd get the crumbs, even though it will take a week for him to return and throw them to me.

  ***

  By the time I woke up the next morning Raghu had left. While having my breakfast I wondered what to do. I'd never been one for sightseeing but I couldn't possibly stay indoors with a morose woman for company. The idli melted in my mouth. I didn't feel like complimenting the cook. However, Mrs. Raghavan sat down in the chair opposite mine.

  "Gauri, I wanted to thank you."

  I gaped at her.

  "I'd been wondering how to get Sundar to leave and you did it," she said, smiling at me but looking sadder than ever.

  "Let me explain. My second daughter Maya got married in January this year. Soon after the ceremony, when we'd just returned from the choultry, she came up to me and started saying something about your brother. The house was full of guests, the boy's people, getting ready to leave that night. I didn't have the time to listen to her nor, I must admit, the patience. And now when I want to question her about it she doesn't want to talk. I can only guess that something had happened between them either that day or earlier, when Sundar was staying with us before your father died. It's no longer important. After all, she's married a good man. But, if Sundar's presence will keep her away then I don't want him here. I couldn't tell this to my husband without knowing the details. You've solved the problem so quickly I don't know how to thank you."

  The words cascading like a torrent from the reticent looking woman made me speechless. She wasn't done yet.

  "I'd been breaking my head imagining what Maya could possibly have wanted to tell me that day. The irony of this is that she didn't have a kind word for me all these years. She behaved as if I was her enemy. Can a mother ever hurt her child? In trying to avoid me, she cut herself off from the whole world. She kept within the house not seeing or talking to anyone. She and her sister, each a shadow of the other. They wouldn't let another person come between them, not even me, their mother. Are you close to your mother? You tell her everything? Does she confide in you?" she asked, finally giving me a chance to say something.

  "Yes, especially after my father's death," I said carefully. When amma told me that the man whose death I mourned was not my father at all. Kittu had been amma's husband all right but the man responsible for my birth was her flame from college, Raghu.

  "Lucky woman," said Raghu's wife. "That she can talk to you so openly. Maya has taken after her father, keeping things close to her heart. It's not good. Everybody needs someone to talk to, somebody with whom they can share their grief as well as their happiness."

  Amma hadn't wanted to confide in me at all. It was a momentary indiscretion, a wretched slip of the tongue that killed my complacency, my identity.

  ***

  On the 13th day, when the number of visitors dwindled, I took refuge in Kittu's room pretending to go through his effects. Most of the time though, I was trying to convince myself that he hadn't left me after all.

  The door opened suddenly. I swivelled round, bristling at the intrusion. It was amma.

  "You are here," she stated and went to the cupboard behind me.

  I sat stiffly, looking at the tears that fell on my hands. Amma was opening and closing the cupboards one after another. I had to compose myself quickly. Sure enough, she came up to the desk and stood behind me. Her restless fingers beat a tattoo on the back of the chair and rustled my hair.

  "Gauri, I think it's time you went back to your office," she said at last. "It's not good to take such long leave."

  "I'll go in another day or two. They'll understand," I sounded husky enough for her to come around, bend down and look at me.

  "Tchah! Just look at you . . . puffy face, red eyes, black circles. . . . Go and wash your face."

  I continued to sit on Kittu's chair. She overlooked my obstinacy and kept talking.

  "Did Sundar say anything about his stay at Raghu's? He only told me that Raghu is trying to get a groom for his daughter."

  She flipped through Kittu's papers, broke the point of a pencil, opened the little drawers and dropped the few clips and pins he had stored so carefully in them.

  "Did you have anything special to tell me?" I asked, controlling my anger. I didn't want anyone to tamper with his things, not even amma.

  "When should we send Sundar back to Raghu?" she asked.

  "Why should he go back?" I looked up at her. "He didn't get a job there either."

  "We can't blame Raghu for this. He did fix him up somewhere but Sundar was too quick to resign."

  "Then what's the point in sending him there again?"

  "If I know Raghu, he won't give up till he has Sundar well entrenched. . ."

  I had to smile. Sundar stick to some place?

  "I also think it'll be good to maintain contact with Raghu. He's an influential man and may help us out with Kittu's papers. . . ."

  "Please! Kittu didn't have so many assets that we should seek anybody's help. His will is very clear. Everything's in your name to be divided equally between Sundar and me after your lifetime. Why make an outsider privy to our family affairs?"

  "Well, he's been very helpful to us. He's looked after Sundar well for these past two months. . ."

  "For heaven's sake, amma, Sundar is not a baby to be 'looked after'. He's 26!"

  "Even then. Who would have taken on such a responsibility?"

  "Maybe he had a vested interest. You just said that Mr. Raghavan's trying to get his daughter married. Maybe he wanted to make Sundar his son-in-law. . ."

  "Don't be silly Even if Raghu wanted this alliance I can't let it happen."

  "Why not? Perhaps marriage will make Sundar more responsible. Mr. Raghavan has two daughters. Sundar can decide which one he likes more. After all, he's stayed with them."

  "Enough of this nonsense. I'm sorry I raised the topic at all." She turned to leave.

  "Wait," I went behind her. "It might just work. A strong woman might make him mend his ways. At least get him enga. . ."

  The flash in amma's eyes stopped me midway. I'd never seen her so angry before!

  "Don't even think about it. I don't want to hear another word about this."

  "But you want Sundar to go back. . ."

  "Did I say to marry Raghu's daughter? How can he when he's like a brother to them? Raghu and I . . ."

  I was fascinated by the speed with which the angry pink patches on her cheeks drained and her words didn't make much sense. Not at first.

  "What?" I asked automatically.

  She slumped into the chair I had just vacated. There was no sound in the room except the whirr of the ceiling fan that suddenly seemed loud. That was when she told me, hesitantly at first and then with greater confidence about how Raghu entered her life in college and how Kittu came and snatched her from him.

  "The worst days of my life were soon after I married Kittu. I knew he was madly in love with me but what did he have to make me attracted to him? Nothing. My parents thought he was rich but his family had left him next to nothing. Instead of trying to get some job he spent all his time in the library with his poetry and drama. I felt crushed with our plight, my helplessness, the turn my life had taken because of my parents' insistence I marry Kittu, everything. And then Raghu came home. I didn't want him to find out the truth so I pretended that I was very happy with my husband. He broke down and talked about what a rough deal he was having. He was doing very well financially but his personal life was in shambles since he had nothing in common with his wife. He didn't want to leave her either so he was c
aught in a stifling relationship. That meeting was cathartic for both of us. It was certainly a new beginning for me. Till then I'd been making myself even more miserable by imagining what a difference it'd have made to my life if only I'd married Raghu. After this visit somehow I was able to forget . . . no, not quite forget, but think less about him and reconcile myself to living with Kittu. Yes," she nodded thoughtfully, "I was at peace with myself."

  What about my peace of mind? I took out my anger on that poor scapegoat, Sundar, that good for nothing wastrel who gets into trouble and doesn't know how to get out of it. I'm younger to him by six years and I'm the one who hauls him out of the hot water. He resents this of course and we argue. God, do we argue. Our quarrels made amma send Sundar back to Ahmedabad. The first time was when his girlfriend threatened to lynch him. Now she used Raghu's daughter's wedding as her trump card.

  "It's too soon after your father's death," she told him. "It won't be proper for me to attend. Gauri won't get leave from office. At least you should go and represent us. After all, you know Maya. We haven't even seen her. Go, Sundar. Go and stay there for a while. Raghu's promised to get you a better job than the last one."

  I knew why she was so insistent. I might get angry with Sundar but I would never blurt the truth about Raghu to him.

  Getting Sundar the job was my way of saying sorry to him.

  With his departure I had a clear field to tackle Raghu but, well, he had left too. What am I going to do till Raghu returned? Mrs. Raghavan was still sitting in front of me. It looked as if her outburst had exhausted her and she was as lost in her thoughts as I had been. I looked at her with greater interest.

  Mrs. Raghavan was short and dark with midlife spread around her waist. Her crumpled cotton sari aggravated the general sense of disarray, as did the little wisps of greying hair that had broken loose from her tight knot. With her shoulders drooping, she gave the impression of wanting to curl up somewhere out of sight. That was what I'd thought of her the previous evening too. At first she'd seemed tensed but when the talk became general she shrank into herself. Raghu knew it perhaps and talked so much to cover up for her. What was bugging her? Amrita's death? Or was she suspicious about her husband and my mother?

  ***

  2

  rs. Raghavan sat twisting a corner of her sari tightly and winding it around her forefinger. She tightened it slowly making me wince with every turn. It would cut off the blood supply. Didn't it hurt?

  "Auntie," I leaned forward and patted her knee. "I can see you're disturbed. What's the problem? Can I help?"

  She stopped torturing herself and looked at me. "Did Sundar tell you about Amrita?"

  Oh, Oh.

  "Did he? Anything?" she asked.

  "Well. . . nothing much except that she died recently and that she wasn't quite . . . hmmm. . . normal."

  She sighed. "That's all he could say about her. He was an outsider after all but I still remember her as a baby. Such a sweet little thing she was. A miniature version of her father. There was no trace of me in her. How much worse would it have been if she'd looked like me?"

  She shook her head to answer her own question.

  "I'd no problem in looking after my daughter but, on Raghu's insistence, I hired a middle-aged Gujarati woman, Revabehn, to help me with the household chores. Just as well, since he was on tour most of the time and the garrulous woman kept me from feeling lonely."

  "One day I asked Raghu to accompany me to the hospital for Amrita's vaccination shots," said Kamala auntie.

  "Why? You've never asked me to go with you before," Raghu had replied.

  "Last time one of the nurses at the hospital commented to others about a dark woman having such a fair baby. I want her to see you and understand why Amrita is so fair and pretty."

  "Don't be stupid. You're managing her very well on your own. Take Revabehn if you don't want to go alone."

  "I want you to come along," Kamala insisted.

  The waiting room was crowded as usual. That day she could share her thoughts with Raghu.

  "See that child?" she whispered to him. "He must be as old as Ammu but he's so puny. Don't turn around but behind you a woman in a pink sari is having such a tough time controlling her brat."

  "Ammu's such a darling," she said, holding the baby against her left shoulder. "Even though she's in a strange place and there are so many people around she is not scared, like that little boy. God, how he's screaming. You can see the vein throbbing in his neck. No wonder the mother's so thin.

  Her commentary went on till it was their turn to enter the doctor's room.

  "We've come for the vaccination, doctor," Kamala sat on a stool with the baby on her lap.

  Amrita lay quietly, letting the doctor press the stethoscope against her chest and on her back, pry open her curling fingers, inspect the back of her neck and pinch the flesh on her arm.

  "Let's finish the vaccination first," said Dr. Bhatt, pressing Amrita's cheeks firmly till the mouth formed a little 'o' and squeezed in the polio drops. Kamala held the baby up while the doctor plunged the needle into a firm cheek-like rump. Amrita stiffened but did not protest. The sudden tension in the baby's body made Kamala wince and turn her head away.

  "Hold this cotton in place for a little while. She might cry later, in the evening perhaps. No need to worry if she has a slight temperature. It is quite normal."

  The doctor began to write in the medical record. Kamala made a move to get up but Dr. Bhatt gestured to her to sit down.

  "One moment please. Dr. Avinash. . ." she called out to the junior doctor who had just entered the room.

  "What do you think?" she asked, gesturing towards Kamala and the baby.

  The young man was equally deft in examining Amrita, who was such a co-operative patient.

  "No doubt at all," he said, reading the senior doctor's comments.

  Raghu and Kamala looked at one another. Doubt about what? What was wrong with their child?

  Kamala was still rubbing the baby's bottom but her hand moved mechanically. She could sense her husband's tension as he stood behind her. She strained to listen to the doctors' muted discussion which was lost in the sounds coming through the open door leading to the waiting room.

  "Well," Dr. Bhatt said, turning to Kamala and Raghu. "Your baby has a problem . . . no, nothing physical. She's a fine healthy baby but her mental development is not quite. . . ."

  "What do you mean?" Kamala felt her lips grow stiff as she stared at the doctor.

  "We will know the extent of retardation later, after conducting the necessary tests but, she will not be like the other children. In fact, you might have realised the difference yourselves between. . ."

  "What difference? She is like other children. She's a happy child, never troubles me. . ." Kamala interrupted the doctor.

  "What about her milestones?"

  "She's just an infant, only five months old," Raghu protested.

  "You're most welcome to get a second opinion though I'm quite sure about it. She's typical, a classic textbook case. Your baby is not normal. I'm terribly sorry. Don't blame each other for her condition. It is a genetic disorder and no one is responsible for it."

  Raghu and Kamala looked at each other in disbelief. Dr. Avinash walked away quietly while the lady doctor reached for a paperweight and spun it on the table, causing the white flecks inside to scatter and swirl like a snowstorm. No one spoke. Even the noise from the adjacent room seemed to have ceased. Kamala was gripped by a sense of unreality. She knew the doctor was talking since her lips were opening and closing like a fish, but the words made no sense to her at all. She forced herself to listen.

  ". . . to another paediatrician, anyone you want. It is very hard to accept such a diagnosis."

  "I know my baby is all right. She is just like other children. You are wrong. You've made a mistake. My Ammu is all right," Kamala's voice fell to a whisper as she clenched the squirming baby tightly to her chest.

  A woman peeped into the room
and the nurse quickly shut the door.

  "We will do that. I'm sure we'll find there is nothing wrong with her," Raghu said, more calmly than his wife.

  Kamala and Raghu were quiet for most of the drive back home. He sat tensed over the steering wheel trying to avoid the potholes, the pedestrians, the cyclists and the buses picking up passengers wherever they were flagged down.

  She did not see any of them. She was scrutinising the baby's face as she lay fast asleep on her lap. Amrita made little suckling movements and turned her face towards Kamala. What did the doctor see in her that was not normal? She gently opened the tiny fingers as they clutched her sari and ran her thumb over the palm.

  Kamala hadn't really paid such close attention to any child. In fact, she had not even inspected Amrita so minutely, leave alone notice any defect in her. That was what her mother had done as soon as she entered the room where Kamala was lying with her newborn baby. She had examined the little toes and fingers, lightly scratched the pink soles, peered into the eyes, passed a hand over the head and replaced the baby on the bed.

  "What is it, amma? What were you looking for?" asked Kamala.

  "Nothing. I was ensuring that the little one is all right," her mother replied.

  "Oh, you are such a pessimist," Kamala said, lifting up the baby and hugging her possessively.

  "I just wanted to be sure, that's all."

  "What would we have done if there was something wrong? Exchange her for another? Not many were born today, the nurse told me, so we don't have much choice. In any case, I won't part with my little princess for the most handsome baby in the world!"

  Kamala had rubbed her nose lightly on top of Amrita's head. She couldn't believe that this perfect little piece of humanity was her creation, hers and Raghu's. Her parents had laughed. How would they feel when they learnt that Ammu was not so perfect after all?

  What an ill omen! If only I hadn't said such a thing. . . . How could I have been so foolish? But what is wrong with her?

  Kamala recalled the doctor's physical examination and looked at the baby closely.