My Name Is Radha

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My Name Is Radha Page 15

by Saadat Hasan Manto


  After cleaning the filthy armchair with a filthier rag, Karim invited Nazir to take a seat. ‘But let me tell you upfront,’ he said, ‘the room will cost you ten rupees.’

  Nazir examined the room closely and said, ‘Yaar, isn’t ten a bit steep.’

  ‘It is, I agree, but can’t be helped. The hotel owner, saala, he’s one hell of a money-sucker. He won’t take a penny less. And Nazir Sahib, what’s money to someone out on a binge, after all.’

  Nazir thought a bit. ‘You couldn’t be more right. Shall I pay for it in advance?’ he asked.

  ‘No, that won’t be necessary. First have a look at the girl,’ he said as he went out.

  He returned in a bit with an exceedingly shy girl in tow—a plain sort of Hindu girl of about fourteen in a white dhoti, not exactly a beauty queen but endearingly simple and naive all the same.

  ‘Sit down,’ Karim told her. ‘This gentleman is a friend of mine. He’s one of our own.’

  The girl perched herself on the cot with her eyes lowered. Karim left the room saying, ‘Make sure you’re satisfied. I’ll fetch some glasses and soda.’

  Nazir got up from the chair and sat down next to the girl. She cringed and pulled away. Nazir asked, exactly the way he used to six years ago, ‘What’s your name?’

  She didn’t reply. Nazir edged closer to her, took her hand and asked again, ‘What’s your name, madam?’

  The girl pulled her hand free and said, ‘Shakuntala.’

  Nazir recalled the Shakuntala with whom Raja Dushyanta had fallen in love. ‘And I’m Dushyanta,’ he said. Nazir, in a pleasant mood, seemed hell bent on having a good time. The girl heard him and smiled. Meanwhile, Karim returned and presented four bottles of soda dotted with condensation. ‘I remembered that you like Roger’s soda. They’re chilled.’

  Nazir was delighted. ‘Man, you’re something else again!’ Then he asked the girl, ‘Madam, would you like to have some?’

  She didn’t respond. Instead, Karim answered, ‘Nazir Sahib, she doesn’t drink. It’s only been eight days since she came here.’

  Nazir felt a bit let down. ‘That’s no good,’ he said.

  Karim opened the whisky and poured out a shot for Nazir. Then he winked at him and said, ‘Well, see if you can bring her round.’

  Nazir emptied the glass in one gulp. Karim had only half a peg. The liquor affected him immediately. ‘You like the girl, don’t you?’ he asked, swaying a little from the rapid inebriation.

  Nazir thought about it but couldn’t say whether he did or didn’t. He looked intently at Shakuntala. He might have liked her if she hadn’t had that name. The Shakuntala whom Raja Dushyanta had seen during his hunt and instantly fallen in love with was very beautiful, or so the books said. They described her as lovelier than the sun and moon, with the eyes of a gazelle. Nazir looked at his Shakuntala one more time. Her eyes weren’t bad, though not exactly like a gazelle’s, but they were her own eyes, large and dark. He didn’t deliberate further and said, ‘Fine, yaar. How much?’

  Karim poured himself another half peg and said, ‘A hundred.’

  Nazir was no longer thinking. ‘Okay, a hundred it is.’

  His drink finished, Karim left the room. Nazir got up and closed the door. When he plopped down beside Shakuntala, she became nervous. And when he tried to kiss her, she sprang up with a start. He found this very unpleasant, but attempted it again. He grabbed her by the arm, made her sit next to him and forcibly kissed her. The whole thing was proceeding in the worst possible way. At least the effect of the whisky was superb; he had downed six pegs by now. Soon, though, he began to feel quite disappointed that all this expense would be a waste since this Shakuntala had turned out to be totally raw and knew next to nothing about the protocol of this trade. It was as if he had been condemned to swim with a rank amateur. At last he lost interest. He opened the door and called out for Karim, who sat cooped up in the grubby den with his girls.

  Karim scurried over. ‘What’s the matter, Nazir Sahib?’

  ‘Nothing, yaar,’ Nazir said in desperation. ‘It won’t work.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She doesn’t seem to know what’s involved.’

  Karim took Shakuntala aside and reasoned with her at length, but failed to get through to her. Adjusting her dhoti, she scuttled out of the room, blushing all over. ‘I’ll bring her right back,’ Karim said.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Nazir stopped him. ‘Bring me some other girl.’ Then, suddenly, he changed his mind. ‘Go and buy another bottle with the money I gave you and bring however many girls you have around here—except Shakuntala. I mean, all the ones who drink. Today, I’ll just sit with them and drink. Nothing else.’

  Karim, who understood Nazir well enough, sent in four girls. Nazir looked at them cursorily. He’d made up his mind to just drink in their company so he sent for more glasses and started drinking with them. In the afternoon he had lunch brought over from the hotel and chattered with them until six in the evening. Meaningless jabber, but it seemed to revive his spirits; the vexation Shakuntala had caused him was more than redeemed.

  Half a bottle of whisky still remained, so he took it home. A fortnight later the weather was again heavenly and Nazir was overcome by the desire to drink all day long. Instead of buying his liquor at the cigarette stall, he decided to get it for less through Karim, and went to his haunt. Luckily Karim was there. The minute Karim saw him he said in a hushed voice, ‘Nazir Sahib, Shakuntala’s elder sister is here. She arrived by the morning train. A tough cookie, I must say, but I’m sure you will be able to tame her.’

  Nazir hardly took time to think it over. ‘Let’s see,’ he said to himself.

  ‘Come on, yaar, get some whisky first,’ he told Karim, giving him thirty rupees.

  Karim took the bills and said, ‘Okay, I’ll get it. You go into the room and have a seat.’

  Nazir had only ten rupees left. All the same, he had the room opened and sat down on the chair. He had decided that he would take the bottle of whisky, briefly look at Shakuntala’s sister and then be on his way, tipping Karim two rupees for his trouble.

  In the abundantly airy room, seated on the terribly grimy chair, Nazir lit a cigarette and lifted his legs up on to the bed. Shortly afterwards he heard the sound of footsteps. Karim entered and whispered into Nazir’s ear, ‘She’ll be here in a second. But mind you, you’ll have to tackle her yourself.’

  Karim left the room, and five minutes later a girl resembling Shakuntala and, like her, draped in a white dhoti entered with a frown on her face. She raised her hand to her head and, with utter indifference, said ‘Aadaab’ and sat down on the bed. Nazir felt as though she’d come looking for a fight. Recalling his style from six years ago he addressed her courteously, ‘You’re Shakuntala’s sister?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied in a sharp, angry tone.

  Nazir was quiet for some time, intently observing this girl who was perhaps three years older than Shakuntala. She didn’t like it, and was, in fact, miffed at being checked out so blatantly. ‘What is it, do you want to tell me something?’ she asked, swinging one leg back and forth in agitation. The same smile that was his wont six years ago appeared on his lips. ‘Madam, why be so angry?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be angry? This Karim, your friend, kidnapped my sister from Jaipur. Don’t you think that’s reason enough for my blood to boil? I hear she was also offered to you.’

  Nothing like this had ever happened before. After some thought Nazir said to the girl in all earnestness, ‘The minute I saw Shakuntala I knew she wasn’t my type. She’s very raw and inexperienced. I don’t prefer such girls. You might not want to hear this, but the fact is I’m much more drawn to women who know how to make a man happy.’

  The girl didn’t say anything.

  ‘Your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Sharda,’ she replied tersely.

  ‘Where are you from?’

  ‘Jaipur.’ Her tone was still sharp with anger.

  Nazir smiled
. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘you have no right to be angry with me. If Karim has offended you, you should punish him. I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  He got up, gathered the girl in his arms and kissed her on the lips. Before she could say anything, he addressed her: ‘This, of course, is my offence. I plead guilty and am ready for my punishment.’

  Myriad expressions flitted across her face. She spat on the floor a few times. For a moment it seemed as if she was about to unload a volley of curses, but she didn’t. She sprang up from the bed and sat back down just as quickly.

  ‘So, have you decided on the penalty?’ Nazir was tempted to ask.

  Just as she was about to open her mouth, the cry of a child sounded from the chicken coop. The girl got up again but Nazir stopped her. ‘Where are you going?’

  Suddenly she was a mother. ‘Munni is crying for milk,’ she said and left the room.

  Nazir tried to think about her but his mind got muddled. Meanwhile, Karim returned with a bottle of whisky and some soda. He poured soda for Nazir, finished pouring his own drink, and asked him slyly, ‘Were you able to strike up a conversation with Sharda? I thought you would have brought her round by now.’

  ‘Boy, oh boy, she’s got one hell of a temper,’ Nazir answered with a smile.

  ‘That she does. She arrived just this morning and already she’s made my life a living hell. Do try to break her down. Shakuntala came with me of her own will because her father had abandoned her mother. Just like Sharda’s husband, who took off for God knows where soon after they got married. She lives with her daughter at her mother’s place now. Please try to persuade her.’

  ‘Persuade her . . . Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘You know.’ Karim winked at him. ‘Saali, will she listen to me! No, sir. From the moment she set her foot in here she’s been railing me up and down.’

  Meanwhile, Sharda came in lugging her one-year-old and glowered at Karim testily. He hastily downed his half peg and went out.

  Munni had apparently caught a bad cold; her nose was running profusely. Nazir called Karim and gave him five rupees, saying, ‘Go buy some Vicks.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Karim inquired.

  ‘Cold medicine,’ Nazir said and wrote out the name on a scrap of paper. ‘You can get it from just about any store.’

  ‘Okay.’

  After Karim was gone Nazir turned his attention to Munni. He loved children and although Munni wasn’t a pretty girl, Nazir found her quite charming. He took her in his arms and cuddled her. Sharda was having a hard time putting her to sleep. Nazir caressed her head gently with his fingers until she dozed off. ‘Looks as though I’m her mother,’ he said to Sharda, who smiled and asked him to give the child back to her so she could lay her down on the bed in the other room.

  By the time she returned all traces of anger had disappeared from her face. Nazir sat down close to her. After a brief silence, he asked, ‘Would you allow me to be your husband?’ and embraced her without waiting for her reply. She didn’t resist.

  ‘Madam, please answer.’

  She remained silent. Nazir got up and swallowed a peg. Sharda contorted her face. ‘I hate this stuff,’ she said.

  He poured some whisky in a glass, threw in some soda, and sat down by her side. ‘Why do you hate it?’ he asked.

  ‘I just do,’ she said briefly.

  ‘But you won’t, from this day forward. Here.’ He offered the glass to her.

  ‘I won’t touch it, not in a million years.’

  ‘And I say you’ll not refuse, absolutely not.’

  Sharda took the glass and let her gaze linger on it a while. Utterly helpless, she looked at Nazir and then, pinching her nose, swallowed the whole glassful in one big gulp. She felt as if she was about to throw up but managed to keep it down somehow. Wiping her tears with the edge of her dhoti, she said, ‘This is the first and last time . . . But why did I take it in the first place?’

  He kissed her moist lips. ‘Don’t even try to find the answer,’ he said.

  He walked over to the door and fastened it.

  It was seven in the evening when he unlatched it. As soon as Karim came in, Sharda left the room with her head bowed. Karim looked ecstatic. ‘Man, oh man, I can’t believe it! Was it a miracle or what? I won’t ask for a hundred. Just give me fifty.’

  Nazir was well satisfied with Sharda, indeed so pleased that he’d already forgotten all the other women he’d had before. She was the perfect fulfilment of every sexual desire he’d ever had.

  ‘I’ll pay tomorrow,’ he said to Karim. ‘The rent too. After the thirty I gave you for the whisky, I only have ten left.’

  ‘No problem. That you tamed Sharda is compensation enough for me. Believe me, huzoor, she was getting on my nerves. But now she can’t admonish Shakuntala.’

  Karim left. Sharda came in with Munni in her arms. Nazir gave her five rupees, but she declined. Nazir smiled. ‘What’s this, am I not her father? Why are you refusing?’

  Sharda very quietly took the money. Whereas earlier she had seemed quite talkative, now she was unusually quiet and reticent. He took Munni in his arms, kissed her. As he was leaving, he said, ‘Well then, Sharda, I have to go now. If not tomorrow, I’ll come the day after.’

  Nazir showed up the very next day. Sharda had slaked his sexual appetite so well, and returned his passion with such an unalloyed spirit of giving that he was completely swept away. He paid Karim the amount due, had him bring a bottle, and sat down with Sharda. He asked her to join him in drinking, but she said, ‘I told you that was the first and last time.’

  Nazir continued drinking alone. From eleven in the morning till seven in the evening he remained closeted with Sharda. He returned home feeling extremely sated, even more than the day before. Despite her very plain looks and unusual reticence, Sharda had completely overwhelmed his sensual appetites. Time after time he wondered, ‘What kind of woman is she? Never before in my life have I seen a woman so undemonstrative yet so sensuous.’

  He started visiting her every second day. She had no interest in money, nor did she ever mention it to him. Nazir paid sixty rupees to Karim, who paid ten for the room and deducted seventeen as his commission. But Sharda never mentioned it to Nazir.

  Two months went by. Nazir had practically exhausted his budget. He also noticed that his association with Sharda was beginning to affect his marital life. Every time he slept with his wife, he felt that something was missing. He wanted Sharda in her place. This wasn’t a good thing. Being conscious of the impropriety, he desperately wished that his affair with Sharda would somehow end. Eventually, he himself brought up the matter with her. ‘Sharda,’ he said, ‘I’m a married man. All my savings are gone. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to give you up, but at the same time I never want to come here again.’

  Sharda was quiet for some time after he spoke. Then she broke her silence. ‘Whatever money I’ve saved, you can have it. Just let me keep enough for the train fare back to Jaipur for me and Shakuntala.’

  He kissed her and said, ‘Don’t be silly. You don’t seem to get my meaning. If I can’t see you any more it’s because I’ve run out of money. I was wondering how I might continue to see you despite that.’

  She didn’t say anything. When he came to the hotel the next day after borrowing money from a friend, Karim told him Sharda was all set to leave for Jaipur. When Nazir sent for her, she didn’t come. Instead she gave Karim a wad of banknotes for him with the message, ‘Please, accept this and write down your address for me.’

  Nazir gave his address to Karim, but returned the money. Sharda came with Munni in her arms. She greeted him with ‘Aadaab’ and then told him, ‘I’m returning to Jaipur this evening.’

  ‘But why?’

  Her answer was brief: ‘I don’t know.’ Then she left.

  Nazir asked Karim to send her back, but she didn’t come. Nazir left with the strange feeling that his body had gone completely cold; she had abandoned him without really answ
ering his question.

  She had gone away. She really had. Karim was terribly upset. He complained, ‘Nazir Sahib, why did you let her go?’

  ‘Friend, I’m not some seth loaded with money,’ he replied. ‘How could I possibly spend fifty rupees every other day, plus another ten for the room, thirty for a bottle, and a little extra as well. I’ve drifted into bankruptcy. By God, I’m in debt.’

  Karim was quiet.

  ‘I couldn’t help it . . . I couldn’t have gone on like this.’

  ‘Nazir Sahib, she loved you.’

  Nazir knew nothing about love. He only knew that Sharda was generous in giving of herself physically. She was the perfect answer to his sensual needs. Beyond that he knew next to nothing about her, except that she had once mentioned in passing that her husband had been a sucker for pleasure. He had left her because she couldn’t conceive for two years, but Munni came along within nine months of their parting. She so resembled her father.

  Sharda had taken Shakuntala along. She wanted her sister to get married and live a respectable life. She was very fond of her. Karim had tried hard to get Shakuntala started in the oldest profession. There was no dearth of ‘passengers’ willing to pay two hundred rupees for a night, but Sharda wouldn’t allow it and would start quarrelling with Karim. And when Karim taunted her, saying, ‘What exactly do you think you’re doing?’ she would shout back, ‘If you weren’t in the middle, I wouldn’t do it! I would never let Nazir Sahib spend a penny.’

  Once, she had asked Nazir for his photograph so he had brought one from home and given it to her. She had taken it with her to Jaipur. She had never spoken to him about her love for him. Whenever he was in bed with her, she remained totally silent. Nazir would try to provoke her into speaking but to no avail. He only knew that she never held back in giving herself to him physically. At least in that she was sincerity personified.

  Nazir felt a sense of relief at Sharda’s departure. She had gravely affected his relationship with his wife. If she had stayed much longer, chances were that he would have become entirely indifferent to his wife. However, as time passed, Nazir slowly reverted to his old life and the memory of Sharda’s touch gradually began to fade from his body.

 

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