Amrita

by Usha Rajagopalan

  It was Friday evening. Normally Maya would rush home to make every second of the weekend count. Even as she entered the house, she would pull off her shoes and throw them to a side. Her school bag would fly to another corner. She would quickly splash water on her face, gobble her food and run out. Kamala always wondered at the girl's haste, since she had no friends to play with. She sat alone on the gate most of the time and watched the deserted road. Sometimes she stood on the bottom rung and swung the gate to and fro. At other times she piled pebbles on the parapet wall and threw them, one after the other as if to see how far they fell. With unfailing regularity she raised her head and hooted with the not so distant whistle of the train, the 6.15 Express and 7 o'clock goods train. After that she came home as per her father's order.

  That day, however, she stomped directly to her room. Kamala heard the school bag hit the ground over her head. She tensed at once but before she could speculate on what could have upset her, Maya came down and gulped her milk.

  "I am not hungry," she said, wiping the milk moustache on the shoulder of her uniform and going out.

  Kamala watched her silently.

  Am I losing the maternal instinct? I know something is troubling her. Why am I not trying to find out what it is? She'll snap my head off if I ask. Let her work it out on her own.

  Despite her resolution she went to the front yard and began to water the few surviving plants. The sun was firing one last burst before fading for the day. Normally she would have waited for it to go down completely before venturing into the garden. If Maya was aware of her mother's presence, she did not show it. She continued to sit on the wall, intently studying the patches of moss that had dried to a greenish black. She scraped little bits with her nails and flicked them into the air.

  "When is appa returning from his tour?" she asked, at last.

  "In another couple of days."

  Kamala waited for Maya to say something more but the girl kept quiet.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No."

  "Okay."

  "Can't you leave me alone? I came here to be by myself and you had to follow me."

  "I came to water the plants," Kamala protested.

  "Don't think you can fool me," she said, jumping off the wall and going back to the house.

  Kamala did not dare to follow her inside. She continued to water the plants though her ears were cocked for the slightest sound from either girl. Sure enough, within five minutes she heard a muffled noise. She dropped the hose and rushed into the house, up the stairs.

  Amrita was bunched like a ball but that didn't prevent her sister from kicking her. Through narrowed eyes Maya made sure that her aim was on target.

  "Take that . . . that. . . and that. . . ." she hissed, not realising that Kamala was rushing to her daughter's rescue.

  "What are you doing?" Kamala pulled Maya away.

  "I don't have to tell you."

  Kamala felt as if somebody had clamped a rough hand over her throat. She spun the girl around to face her. She had never before felt such anger. Not in her younger days when her brothers teased her mercilessly; not at Raghu's indifference; not even when she caught Maya tormenting her sister as she felt now. It was as if the dam had burst and she could no longer restrain herself. She only knew that something had snapped inside and given her freedom – at last. She did not hear Maya's pleas. She did not see Amrita sit up and inch backwards till the wall stopped her, her eyes wide in fear. Kamala was only conscious of the fact that Maya was close to her, close enough to be punished for all her slights and stubbornness. She tightened her grip on the girl's arm and hit her, not bothering where her blows fell. She only stopped when she became aware of the throb in her hand and Maya's scream penetrated the veil that had blinded her. She released her with the suddenness of catching a rod and realising that it is red-hot.

  Maya ran from the room but Kamala couldn't move. She leaned against the wall, weak with the ferocity of her anger. Yet, she forced herself to go to the window and see if Maya would run out of the house as she had threatened to do so often. There was no sign of the girl. Some of their neighbours were clearly curious about the commotion. They were talking among themselves and gesticulating towards the window.

  She drew the curtain and slumped to the ground, completely drained in mind and body. She did not know for how long she sat there but Amrita was the first to recover. She slowly went to her mother and touched her shoulder hesitantly, not more than brushing her with the fingertips but it was enough to arouse Kamala.

  She pulled Amrita towards her. Her breathing was still laboured but she could talk.

  "I don't know what came over me. Did I frighten you, Ammu? I am so sorry. Now I must make peace with your sister and that's not going to be easy. Come, she must be downstairs."

  She led her daughter down the steps, switching on the lights as she went till the house took on a festive look but Maya was nowhere to be found. She took a torch and went to the front yard. She peered among the trees and the shrubs, clutching the torch with both hands but that still didn't steady the patch of yellow light. Knowing her younger daughter's fondness for climbing trees, she shone the torch on the topmost branches. The black ibis that had made their home in the Ashoka tree protested at the intrusion. Maya had not disturbed their privacy and they were alone with their fledglings. The greenish yellow flowers of the mango trees promised a good crop but the girl was not hiding among them. A line of sweat beaded her face. She wiped it with the pallu of her sari. Once again her breathing was becoming erratic. Once again she could only blame Maya for this. Kamala forced herself to stay calm. Amrita was clinging to her and darting nervous looks everywhere. She had never come out at this time of the night and Kamala knew that everything must seem more menacing in the dark and so close by than when viewed from the window upstairs. However, she didn't want her daughter to stay alone inside the house even for a minute when she did not know where Maya had gone or how long it would take to get her back. She stood in the middle of the yard wondering what to do next.

  "If I. . ." her voice seemed louder in the dark but it helped to comfort Amrita so she continued. "If I call the neighbours, they'll gossip more than be of actual help. What if they tell the whole locality about it? They could even tell Raghu! No, that won't do. Thank God, he's not in town. He'll tear me apart if he thinks that our neighbours were laughing at us. Could that girl have gone to Revabehn? What if she. . .?"

  Suddenly she spied a small dark form outside the gate. The torchlight picked out Maya trying to hide in a shallow ditch. Kamala ran, dragging Amrita along. Her relief at locating her daughter was greater than her anger. She threw open the gate, reached into the ditch and grabbed Maya. She then stalked into the house holding on to her errant daughter while, on the other side, Amrita was finding it difficult to keep up with her mother's pace.

  ***

  Kamala was caught in an impasse with Maya. If she showed her anger once again, the girl was likely to cause greater harm to her sister or to herself. Worse, Raghu might find out and blame her for it. She ground her teeth and held back the words that threatened to spurt out. Maya had found a chink in Kamala's armour though she took care to provoke her only when her father was away. In his presence she couldn't be better behaved. They were at this cat-and-mouse stage when Raghu's mother decided to visit them.

  He went to the railway station to receive her while Kamala paused every so often in her work to listen for the car. At the least suspicion she ran to the front door and peered out. It was more than 12 years since she had met the old woman, not after Amrita's birth, and now the guilt of having avoided her for so long manifested itself dully in the pit of her stomach.

  But how could I have met her with such a child? What if she blames me? I wonder if she's come to stay with us forever or she'll leave after a few days.

  Kamala went to the gate and looked up the road. Maya watched curiously from her perch on the wall.

  "You'd better go in and study. Appa wil
l get angry if he sees you wasting your time," she warned her daughter.

  "He'll shout at you too, for standing here."

  "Don't be cheeky. I just wanted to see if he has come with your paati."

  "I'll look out for them," offered Maya.

  "Okay, since you're not doing anything useful anyway."

  "Hey, I was only trying to help. You can open the gate yourself," Maya turned her head away. "I heard a whistle. It might have been paati's train. You stand here and wait for them."

  "Don't get angry when they're about to come. It's not nice to greet somebody with a grouchy face."

  Even as she was talking, the car stopped outside. Maya jumped down the wall and pushed the gates wide open. Raghu's mother got out, holding the top of the car for support with one hand, the other clutching a cloth bag. Kamala took it from the wrinkled hand with blue veins that criss-crossed in a throbbing maze.

  "Namaskaram, amma. How are you? How was the journey? It has been a very long time since we met. You know our problem. It wasn't possible for me to visit you. I'm so glad you could come. I hope you'll be able to stay with us from now on. This is Maya. Amrita is inside. Please come. I'll bring your things in."

  Her words were drowning in the trundle of wagons on the rail track.

  "That's the 7 o'clock goods train. It always makes this racket when it is empty," Kamala shouted.

  The old woman responded with a smile, shifted her hand from the top of the car to Maya's shoulder and walked slowly inside. The old woman and the girl were almost of the same height. Kamala remembered her mother-in-law as a reasonably tall woman but age had shrunk her and bent her back slightly, making her look like an old sparrow searching the ground for food.

  She hasn't lost that glint in her eyes though. Such sharp eyes! I had feared her tongue would be equally sharp but maybe I didn't spend enough time with her to feel its edge. I wonder if she's mellowed. Imagine spending so many years alone! How would I feel if Maya were to leave me one day and not bother about me at all? Come to think of it, she does resemble her grandmother a bit.

  Both had the same determination in their eyes, obstinate set of the chin and a certain assurance about them. Maya, however, had a definite lilt in her step whereas the older woman's walk showed the weight of age and experience.

  Raghu began spending the evenings at home with his mother. They sat together on the swing while he told her about his work and his colleagues. She listened with an occasional nod or grunt but did not offer any comment. The moment Kamala finished supervising Maya's homework and came down, the old woman went upstairs to her granddaughters. Kamala followed her a couple of days out of curiosity but stood outside the door, hesitant to enter and give Maya an opportunity to snub her. The snatches of conversation she overheard did not reveal her daughter's disposition but Kamala did not want to tempt Maya's mercurial temper in front of the old woman.

  "Paati, do you know how to read?" Kamala heard Maya ask her grandmother. "Did you ever go to school?"

  "Only for two years but yes, I can read," the old woman replied.

  "You are so lucky. I wish I could stop studying. Appa won't permit me to leave school."

  "Of course not! My days were different. Girls either did not go to school at all or else they dropped out like me."

  "Why? Didn't they want to study? Don't!" Maya caught the comb her grandmother was running through her hair. "It hurts."

  "Okay, take off your hand. I can't help it. Look at the state of your hair. What were you saying?"

  "About girls in your generation. . . whether they went to school."

  "Some of them did. Others couldn't go against the wish of their parents."

  "So you stayed at home like Amrita?"

  Paati stopped combing and looked at her older granddaughter sitting quietly in her corner.

  "I don't see you playing with your sister?"

  "She's boring. Tell me, what did you do at home the whole day?"

  "A lot of things . . . stitching, cooking, cleaning the house, etc."

  "You didn't have maids those days?"

  "You ask too many questions. I did it to help my mother. Why don't you also do some work for your mother? That will make her happy."

  "She has Revabehn. In any case, she's doesn't go to office so she has lots of time. She can get Amrita to help her if she wants. Are you through? I want to go out and play."

  Maya ran out of the room. The old woman carefully rubbed her hand on the floor in widening circles to gather the fallen hair and rolled them into a small ball. She looked up and smiled at Kamala who took it as an invitation to enter the room.

  "It is good you keep her hair short. When she is old enough to groom herself she can let it grow."

  "But she's not happy about it," Kamala replied. "You should see the fuss she creates to get her hair cut. She wants long hair that she can tie into two plaits. She was the one who had wanted to get it cut but now she's changed her mind and her father supports her."

  "What do men know of these things? Ignore him and do what you think is best."

  Kamala would get used to her mother-in-law springing such surprises on her, like the time she gave her coffee in the traditional stainless steel tumbler.

  "Do you mind pouring this into a china cup? I have always wanted to sip the coffee at least once in my life."

  Kamala couldn't help smiling at the twinkle in the other woman's eyes but Raghu spluttered and spilt his coffee.

  "What are you saying, amma? How often have you scolded me for letting the tumbler touch my lips? Unclean, non-Brahmin. . . what all you used to say!"

  His mother smiled.

  "In that house you don't do such things," she replied. "The ghosts of your ancestors would have been horrified. But this one doesn't have any past. You can start afresh, make your own practices, customs. I had always wanted to break some of them but didn't have the courage to do it, not in the house that had once belonged to your great grandfather, bestowed upon him by the Maharaja, no less."

  "I never knew you would have such double standards too. I thought at least you were different from other women."

  "We have as many standards as you men have, perhaps less. All sons think their mothers are unique. You are no different. What do you say, Kamala?" she asked.

  Kamala would not take sides in a mother-son conflict. She had known even as a child that these foes could become friends at any moment and then she would have to fight a lonely battle against their united force.

  "You weren't so quiet when you got married. Is anything wrong? Is Raghu ill-treating you?"

  Before she could reply Raghu burst out.

  "Why should I do such a thing? Even if I wanted to, I don't have the time. I've cut down my tours for your sake, amma, otherwise I'm out of town for nearly three weeks a month."

  "That explains it. She's got too used to staying alone. When you retire and spend the rest of your life with your family you will both find it difficult to adjust to each other."

  "Did she complain to you already? You women. . ."

  "She didn't say anything. Can't I see for myself?"

  It made Kamala feel as if a camera was following her around, recording her every move. She tried to appear cheerful but Raghu was the better actor. He became the loving father, coming home directly from office, bringing sweets sometimes and even trying to teach Maya her lessons. His efforts were too late. She failed to clear her exam, the only one in her class to repeat the year. While his mother watched, Raghu dropped his mask of cordiality and slapped his daughter.

  "Look at this! Just look at these marks – in 30s and 40s! What were you doing in the class? Dreaming?"

  "She is just a young girl. . ." his mother protested.

  "Amma, don't interfere. Please. She thinks I don't know anything about what's happening at home. She's getting uncontrollable and her mother just doesn't bother to correct her. Do you people expect me to stay at home and manage your affairs as well? Isn't it enough that I slog day and night for you?
What more do you want?"

  His glance shot across the room to include Kamala.

  "I work like a slave and what do I get in return. . . this? Get your mother to sign your card. You can also tell her to pay the fees from now on."

  Maya's tears dripped on her feet but did not move Raghu. His mother was still bound by his injunction and Kamala stood watching her little family.

  "Why are you standing like a statue? Go to your room. Go and do something," he shouted, sending Maya scuttling for cover.

  She paused at the first step and looked up the stairs, then changed her mind and went into the back yard. It bore signs of Kamala's attempt to grow a kitchen garden despite the fierce sun that had hardened the ground. She walked around the yard once and returned to sit on the doorstep drooping like a limp plant herself. Kamala sat beside her.

  "I don't want to talk to you . . . or to anybody."

  "Oh, I'm not planning to sit here for too long. Did I tell you that your uncle, my youngest brother failed once in school?"

  "Hmm. . ."

  "He was so upset. He cried and cried till the tip of his nose turned red. He was very fair, not like me. Not like you either. You know how to take things in your stride."

  "But appa says he won't send me to school. . ."

  "He didn't mean it. When he calms down he'll feel very sorry about what he said." "What if he doesn't?"

  "He can't keep you at home. All children must go to school, that's the law."

  "Amrita doesn't. Revabehn's don't. They stay at home, they go to work or play the whole day."

  "They are different. They don't listen to their mother or father. They are naughty but you are not. I want you to study well, get a good job like appa and earn a lot of money."

  "My friends played with me all the time and now they have passed and I have failed. . ." Maya bit her lips.

  Kamala put her hand over the girl's shoulders.

  "You'll forget them in no time. Make the most of your vacation, study well and you'll be Ist in your class."

  "They. . . they. . .will. . ." the words dissolved in more tears. Maya gave up pretending to be composed. Revabehn came towards them but Kamala waved her away.