"'See that girl walking towards us? Yes, the fair one in the blue sari? She's the one.'"
"And I was left all alone. The girl was walking steadily towards me but her head was down as if she was deep in thought. I felt sorry for her, like I would sympathise with a sacrificial goat. Yes, I was going to do as I was asked. I didn't have an option really, since this large crowd was waiting to attack me if I failed and I didn't want to think what they would ask next of me. It was best to face known danger than worry about the unknown, I thought."
"She was still walking towards me oblivious of her surroundings, the waiting crowd, me at the forefront. There was no way I could help her."
"The rose! They had forgotten the rose I was supposed to give her! Before I could turn around, a clammy hand thrust a soft something into mine. I didn't need to see what it was. I had my eyes fixed on the girl who had almost reached me. She was still lost in thought. Indeed, she seemed completely unaware of the palpable excitement that surrounded us, the waves of barely subdued buzz behind me, my heart beat now so loud like a sledge-hammer on my eardrum. The insects in my stomach had fused into one mass that sank with every little step I took. Even then our confrontation seemed far too soon."
"We were in each other's paths. She looked up at last, at the obstacle I made, side-stepped and went past. I couldn't let her get away, not if I wanted to save my skin."
"'Miss!' I called. "My voice seemed heavy, strange but it worked. She looked over her shoulder and kept walking."
"'Wait, please, I've something to tell you.'"
"I poured my heart in that request and she paused momentarily. I talked quickly, keeping my voice low so that no one but she could hear me. Her curiosity was aroused and she turned around fully. Now, she couldn't see the crowd that was waiting for my downfall."
"'Miss, you must believe me. I am a fresher and those fellows behind you are ragging me. They want me to give you this flower and . . . and. . .' the words wouldn't come out."
"'And?' she asked. Her eyes were twinkling in such marked contrast to the composure with which she walked just now that I could only gape at her."
"'What are you supposed to do?' she emphasised every word to make it register in me."
"'Oh, I'm supposed to propose to you.' My ears burned and now I couldn't look at her."
"'Not again! They have tried this silly stunt at least five times this year. I should teach them a lesson they'll not forget in a hurry. You're supposed to kneel before me, right? Well then, go ahead and do it. Don't be nervous. Think of this as just a game.'"
"I ran a dry tongue over my chapped lips. The rose looked more pathetic than I felt. Its yellow petals were spotted brown, crumpled and it drooped limply. Thank God this was just a charade, I thought. No girl would ever accept a fellow's hand over such a flower."
"I went down on one knee in front of her. Behind her was the sea of faces bathed in wide smiles. I thought I noticed a couple of older faces, probably of professors who had joined to watch the fun. If the girl had shown the slightest reluctance I'd have turned right round and fled, the threat of more ragging be damned, but the girl whose name I still did not know gave me confidence to go through this torture."
"'Miss, will you marry me?' I croaked as softly as I could, not daring to lift my eyes to hers."
"'Look up at me!' she ordered, though she also kept her voice down. 'And ask once again. Loudly this time.'"
"I did. Don't ask me how I got the courage to do it but I did it. I spoke louder this time. Loud and clear for those fellows to hear. A burst of laughter hit my ears. It was smothered just as quickly as the crowd and I waited for the girl to respond."
"She took the flower gently from my hand as if it had bloomed just then, kissed it lightly and gave me her other hand. I couldn't believe it. I didn't dare to take her hand in mine but touched it with my fingertips and stood up hastily."
"'Shall we go?' she asked, laying her hand on my arm and walking, forcing me to match her pace. We went past the crowd of popping eyes and open mouths. I was weak with relief but, for the first time, a little bubble of mirth rose in me. We walked sedately till we turned the corner and then she hurriedly removed her hand."
"'Bye,' she said, before leaving for her class."
"I was in a daze. The boys came running behind me and, from the babble of voices, I realised how lucky I had been. She, Nandini, had slapped all her earlier 'suitors' and no one let them forget that slap ever. I was the hero who had won the lady's hand. I went to class hearing only the violins in the air, not the compliments, not seeing the jealous looks from her many fans."
Raghu smiled at me and I returned to earth with a thud.
Amma, behaving like this? Who would ever have thought it possible?
"What happened when you met her the next time?" I gulped and managed to ask.
"I did not meet her for a few days, though you bet I was on the lookout for her," he said, smiling. "Then we bumped into each other in the library. It was a very dark place, full of old books and musty smells, not the right place to meet anyone though many couples made it their rendezvous. Of course, I didn't know she would be there and she wouldn't have expected me either. In fact, I don't think she even recognised me at first though I certainly did. She looked puzzled when I smiled at her and when she realised who I was, she responded with a half-smile not like the dazzler she had given me last time. . . It must sound all mushy and silly to you, eh?"
"Oh no, I am enjoying every bit of it. I wish I'd known this earlier. How I would have ragged her!" I said.
"That's why she never told you. Some things are best left unsaid," he smiled.
"But having started, you'd better finish it. I must hear the rest of the story," I insisted.
"There's nothing more to say. After that day we met accidentally a few times, realised that our wavelengths were the same and became friends. We began to meet by prior appointment and not by chance. One day while talking generally we found out that we were related to each other. Her father was a cousin of my mothers, several times removed. Of course, we didn't bother to tell anyone how distant a relationship ours was but word got around that we were cousins. It helped to silence the mouths of the gossips and my presence kept her admirers at bay. . . and how many she had! It didn't curb their enthusiasm completely though. They tried to give her letters, flowers, followed her everywhere, sighed as she walked past. . . She felt stifled with this attention. They showered her with love and me? I was the butt of their hatred!" he laughed.
"They called us 'Beauty and the Beast'. I quite enjoyed their jealousy. Let me tell you though Gauri, that your mother frightened away all the girls from me. I couldn't find a single one who was willing to talk to me other than her. And no one could have said that I was not good looking. Well, she was finishing her graduation and would soon leave college. I tried to convince her to join for Masters but her parents wouldn't let her. Even before her exams were over they fixed her alliance with your father. I don't think they asked her what she wanted. Anyway, something cropped up and I couldn't attend her wedding. Someone told me later that Nandini and her husband had shifted to his ancestral home. Of course, everyone ragged me about her 'ditching' me. I didn't bother to explain that just because we were good friends we need not be shackled to each other forever. I got a job, met your Kamala auntie and, well, that's that."
I thought he stifled a sigh but it could just be my imagination though he was absentmindedly turning the ring on his finger over and over.
"Oh, so you never met amma after that?"
God, forgive my deception.
"Let me think . . . hmm. . ."
A frown corrugated his forehead.
"Well, yes," he said. "I believe I did meet her once. It was so long ago I don't even remember exactly when I visited her but it must have been before you were born. I remember that your brother had gone to school and your father wasn't home so I couldn't meet either of them. What a beautiful house she had! And how tastefully she had decorated
it. I could see that she was very happy. My visit must have come as a total surprise to her. I hadn't been able to forget the wonderful days we had at college and wanted to meet her at least once. I had her address with me but couldn't quite work up the courage to call on her. You know how conservative our society is, I didn't want to cause her any embarrassment or trouble and I was really glad when it turned out well. I was happy to spend a few hours with her talking about those old times, my job and so on. I never met her after that, not once. . ."
He was talking to himself and his eyes looked far away. A smile softened his features but I felt my face tighten.
***
13
r. Raghavan, I wanted to tell you. . . Mr. Raghavan, are you listening to me?" I asked, as he sat there with that silly little smile looking somewhere that I couldn't see.
"Mr. Raghavan!" I called as loudly as I could without attracting anybody's attention.
He looked at me at last with those large brown eyes.
"Yes. What's it, Gauri?" he asked.
"Amma hadn't wanted me to come here. She hadn't wanted me to meet you. Do you know why?" I asked, now getting his complete attention. His eyes clouded for an instant. That was more like it. Wait till he hears the rest!
"No, tell me," he said.
I stopped myself from licking my lips. "She was worried about what I would tell your family about her and you. She didn't know how your wife would react to it."
"Did you tell Kamala anything?" he asked.
"No, I didn't have the heart to. She's already under such stress. I didn't know how she'd take it, knowing that her husband is not able to forget his old love, my mother."
The words that had been making my life miserable were out into the open. Strangely though, now they didn't seem too bad. Immoral, yes, but didn't I owe my life to that transgression? Why did it take me so long to realise this?
The shock was clearly too much for Raghu. He sat with his eyes closed, left arm across his chest, the right hand covering his lower face. After hearing Kamala auntie talk so much about herself, her husband and daughters for the past week I hadn't planned to tell him at all. But he had had an easy time while his wife had suffered. She was still suffering. It was his turn to face reality.
"Are you suggesting that Nandini thinks the same of me as she did long ago?" he asked at last, looking down at his long fingers twisting and untwisting like mating worms.
"Of course not! You are a ghost from the past. You had no place in her life once she got married to Kittu. Even then you did manage to intrude once. That once was enough for a lifetime."
"Hm. . ."
"Do you know the consequence of that meeting?" I asked. "You just said you did not remember when you had visited her but you knew that it was when Kittu wasn't home and Sundar had gone to school. It was at a time when amma was alone at home. Did you even think for a minute the outcome of that visit of yours?"
He did not reply.
I waited.
He looked straight into my face without speaking.
"You know?" I asked, with the relish of a serial killer sticking a knife into his victim's gut and turning it.
"You?" he asked.
I sat still. It was quiet in the compartment. Even the throbbing of the wheels below my feet seemed fainter. My heart would burst if I breathed.
"I did wonder when you came over so suddenly," he said. "In your brother's case, Nandini had called to ask me if she could send him over. At that time she didn't even mention having another child. I knew about you from Sundar. When you came I was surprised to see you. Even more surprised to see my eyes on you. Do you realise that we have very similar eyes? There's only one childhood photograph of me taken by a neighbour. Those were the days when I was always running around doing chores for everybody. This neighbour lived alone and depended on me for everything, from getting his newspaper co fetching his food from the Udupi hotel. On his sixtieth birthday he got me a new shirt, made me wear it and took a photograph. I was thin and tanned those days with eyes that seemed too big for such a small face. If you see that photograph now you won't recognise me till you look at my eyes. The moment I saw you, I was reminded of that photograph. The same small build, same colour and more important, the same eyes. Large, hopeful, ready to take on the world. Nandini's are different. I haven't met Kittu but from what I've heard about him, these eyes couldn't have been his. I was fairly certain that you were my daughter. That was probably why Nandini didn't want you to come and meet me. It was so like her not to want to upset me or my family in any way. Since I wasn't sure, I didn't say anything to you. Nor to your mother, let me assure you, Gauri."
Hearing my name brought me back to my senses.
"Why not? Why didn't you tell her what you had guessed?" I was furious with him for stealing the wind from my sails.
"If she had wanted me to know, wouldn't she have told me herself? I respect her judgement. But that doesn't mean I wasn't happy to see you. You would never understand how I feel about talking frankly like this to you. Look at you, so smart, independent, self-assured at such a young age. It thrills me that my blood is running in your veins. In you, I also have a child who's normal, well-behaved, who's everything a parent would like in his young one."
"That's Kittu's work. His and amma's."
He laughed. "Maybe. But they also have a Sundar, remember?" He had me there.
"It is all the play of Fate, Gauri. Nothing is in our hands. We are
'But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days.'
Is Kamala alone to be blamed for Maya's rudeness and insolence? There was a time when I did accuse my wife of incompetence in bringing up the children. But now I realise that by not sharing that responsibility with her, I was equally at fault. Maya has always been a difficult child. Perhaps she missed me and was too young to say it. Amrita may have been different if I had spent time with her instead of leaving her with her mother all the time. Kamala herself may not be so introverted if I'd shown greater love to her. These are the thoughts that haunt me when I'm travelling and have time to think. Even then, I welcome this touring, this hectic pace of life. Know why? Because I'm scared of the day when I've retired, with no work to keep me occupied and then these 'ghosts from the past' as you put it, will haunt me. I'm scared, Gauri, terribly scared."
I had prepared to battle with the Raghu I had created in my mind with the bits and pieces of information I'd obtained first from amma and then from Kamala auntie. This Raghu was a stranger. He was honest, contrite, helpless. This Raghu was a man I could like.
"You used to confide in amma. Will you do that again?" I asked.
He shook his head slowly, thoughtfully.
"No, my dear. If I run to your mother then Kamala will be left alone. I've done too much of that all these years. I don't want to turn my back on her again. I've hurt her enough. It is now my responsibility to repair at least some of the damage. This is why I make it a point to meet Maya often. So that I can gradually make her understand that her mother needs her. Kamala probably did not know how to show her affection for the girls. Maya took it as indifference. I have been openly harsh on her and her sister. The irony is that she still tolerates me but not her mother. In fact, Gauri, if you are not too angry with me may I ask you for a favour?"
"Yes, of course."
He reached for my hand and squeezed it gently.
I smiled at him.
"Tell me, what would you like me to do?" I asked.
"Try to get Maya to talk to you," he said. "Let her spill out all her anger to you. That will make it easier for me to talk to her."
"That's what Kamala auntie also told me. Well, I'll see what I can do but from what I gather, Maya's not going to be easy to tackle," I said.
***
PART TWO
14
hen I recall my first, and last, meeting with Maya, there was only one thing to be grateful for – that I did not let my mouth drop when she opened t
he door for Raghu and me.
Kamala auntie did not have many photographs of her daughters to show me other than the stray ones of Amrita as a child and the more recent ones taken during Maya's wedding. In those, however, the garland, the jewellery, the makeup and an awkward stiffness before the camera hid her personality. As for Amrita, she would always remain a one-year old birthday girl, peeping behind her mother or sitting on a table in front of a cake surrounded by children. Nothing much to build on, so I had created my own image of the two girls from what Kamala auntie told me about them.
Amrita, I thought, would have been fair, delicately built, of moderate height and her sister's shadow. Maya would be of average height too and small build but she would be darker, with intelligent and watchful eyes. If Amrita was a Chow puppy, cuddly, snub nosed and helpless, then Maya would be a native Rajapalayam hound, sleek, alert and pugnacious.
Standing at the entrance of her flat I realised that I had been right only about her height and colour. Maya resembled a hound as much as I looked like a bird of paradise.
Ganesh made tea for all of us while she talked about the sightseeing she had done with him. My surprise was wearing off and I could pay greater attention to her. She spoke without a pause and she spoke in two pitches — to us in a normal voice and louder to Ganesh so that he could hear her from the kitchen. Before I could react to the ludicrousness of it, he joined us and she reduced her volume.
Maya's eyes shone brighter when they rested on her husband. For the first time I was meeting a couple so deeply in love, other than amma and Kittu, of course. With one difference: Ganesh hovered round his wife like a mother bird over its fledgling, whereas Kittu had been the one to seek refuge in amma. I shook myself mentally. Ganesh was not my concern. Maya was and she was not the person I had thought her to be. Had Kamala auntie been stringing me all along?
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