There under the plant was young Kandu fast asleep, a smile on his face, his head nestled on a cushion. In his hand, he was clutching a flashlight. All around his face were soft white petals fallen from the plant, which loomed above his sleeping face. Mahadevan scooped him up and carried him indoors. Then he returned almost immediately to the verandah to collect the fallen petals, which he took back to Kandu’s room and arranged on his pillow all around his head. He watched his son, innocent in sleep, with a smile on his face.
‘Sleep, my darling and continue to dream; and may all your dreams come true. May love surround you like these soft petals at all times.’
Kandu opened one eye and looked at his father, then turned and sank into an even deeper slumber.
_________
3The miracle of Krishna’s birth, when the prison doors opened, allowing his father, Vasudeva, to safely take him to Brindavan, away from the clutches of his evil uncle, Kamsa
CHAPTER 41 – DHARMAMBAL
RANGPUR— JULY, 1935
Dharmu sat outside in the corner of the verandah, drying her hair. The whole ritual of dhuno complete, she rested with her hair almost like a halo around her head, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun, as it dried out every last bit of moisture. The air was drier than usual although it was almost noon, so she was determined to make full use of that. She sorted through the mail and was thrilled to find Amma’s letter. Her writing was difficult to read because Amma had no formal education and she wrote phonetically, just as if she were speaking. Tamil was a complicated language and did not have a phonetic base, so what one wrote was quite different from how one pronounced it. Reading the letter became a very complicated process, requiring her to decipher what Amma intended to say but Dharmu didn’t mind that. She loved getting letters from home.
My dearest Dharmu,
I know you left this time with a heavy heart. I wish that circumstances had been different and I was not forced to share my secret with you. I hope you did not tell anyone about it, especially not the children. They are too young to understand and I want them to respect their grandfather no matter what. It was wrong of me to break down like that and burden you with things you cannot begin to understand.
As for me, life goes on. I have trouble reading and the bright lights upset me. I had thick curtains put up in my bedroom window and I stay in my room in the afternoons, which keeps the headaches away. I keep myself busy with household matters. Your father is here at least three nights a week and I cherish my time with him. He is good to me — what more can I ask for? I went to the jewelers in Dindigul and chose a beautiful uncut ruby necklace, which I am sure you will love. He bought it for me for Pongal.
Don’t judge your father too harshly. He is a good father and a good husband. Just because he has another wife does not mean he becomes a bad father. He has always taken very good care of you and Venkat, and you must always remember that. You are fortunate to have a very good husband, which keep in mind, your father chose for you. He always has your wellbeing foremost in his mind. Don’t fret about me, I will be alright. Now that I have shared my thoughts with you, I definitely feel lighter. You don’t dwell on it. Occupy your time and mind with your family. I long to see you again.
Your loving mother,
Gayatri
Dharmu put down the letter. Amma was right. It was almost as if she could read minds. Ever since her return to Rangpur, Dharmu thought all the time about her father, hating him for doing this to her mother, hating the thought that she had brothers and sisters who were not born of her mother. But Amma was right about him being a good father. Never did she lack anything in her life. She was blessed in her mother’s and her husband’s home. She should not think of him with so much revulsion. If only she could talk about it to someone she might feel lighter but she had no one; no friends or close relatives, so it stayed in her heart festering till it erupted in anger, always directed towards her children. Her mood had been deeply affected after her return to Rangpur. For one, she did not like being here, and then all these things happened in Dindigul, which she had to keep bottled up inside for more than six months, adding to her already depressed state. She certainly couldn’t shout at Mahadevan, so it was the kids, especially the girls, who bore the brunt of her anger. Poor things, it was not their fault. She told herself that from now on she would be more patient and not lash out inconsiderately. Just then, Vani walked into the verandah with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was playing nervously with the end of her hair and wiping away tears that would not stop flowing down her pallid cheeks.
‘What now?’ thought Dharmu to herself. She felt irritated and wanted to shake Vani and say, ‘Stop it, stop crying! What is it you want from me?’ But thankfully, the words stayed only in her inner mind.
“Mummy, I am bleeding. I think I have my menses,” she said, a look of terror in her eyes as she resumed crying.
It was almost on the tip of her tongue to say, ‘Call Meera,’ but she bit the words back. She needed to take care of this. This was one job she ought not to delegate to Meera. No matter how hard it was, she had to get up and comfort her daughter. For all these years she had become so accustomed to other people around her taking care of things, she did not know what to do. Dharmu got up and held Vani close, till her small body calmed down and then the two of them walked to the bathroom. Once Dharmu reached the bathroom, she had to call Meera, because she had no idea where to get the cloth and what to do next.
“Meera, kahaan ho?” she yelled.
“No Mummy, don’t tell Meera. I don’t want anyone to know.”
“Vani, if we were in the village, then we would have to call the whole village and tell them about your condition, so be thankful it is only Meera.”
Once Meera arrived, with her usual efficiency, she found plain cotton cloth from a discarded petticoat and showed Vani what to do as Dharmu mutely watched.
The children were growing up. They really needed to move away from Rangpur soon. They needed formal education and soon Dharmu would have to look for a suitable boy for Vani. The very thought was too overwhelming and Dharmu needed to lie down. With Vani in Meera’s confident care, Dharmu escaped to the sanctuary of her own room and lay down. She didn’t quite understand what she felt, an inexplicable sadness, a gloom that nothing seemed to alleviate. She could not complain about anything lacking in her life. She had everything but still she felt a void, an empty space with no noise, no music and no movement, which left her listless and unwilling to do anything. If she could only figure out what it was that made her so sad, she might find some remedy but she hadn’t the first idea what it would take to make the day brighter. The girls annoyed her. They seemed to want something all the time. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Did Vani have to choose this particular time to get her period? Even Kandu’s sprightly presence irritated her. She had no idea what was happening but she knew she did not feel all right. At night she would wait to see if Mahadevan reached out for her, but these last few weeks he came home so tired from work he went to sleep almost immediately after dinner. Every evening she would dress up and wait for him but he scarcely noticed her. Was this how it was with every married couple? She had no idea and no one to clear her own clouded mind, which was filled with a million nebulous questions.
She got up and walked into the living room, thinking about what she could do next. On top of the rosewood side board her gaze fell on a decanter of whiskey. The light streaming in through the window shone directly on the cutglass bottle, its bright reflections dancing around the room. So many times Mahadevan had offered her a glass of wine with her meal but she never wanted to take it and he never insisted. The one time she tried a sip of wine made her sick to her stomach. But today, she didn’t know why, she moved without her own volition towards the bottle. For some time, she just looked at the bright lights and the colorful reflections. Then she took out a glass and poured a little whiskey into it. She lifted the glass almost in slow motion and brought it up to her nose. The pung
ent smell almost overpowered her and she turned her face away in revulsion. No way could she drink this disgusting stuff! Her arm moved to place the glass on the table, when suddenly she brought the glass up to her lips and swallowed its contents in one gulp. The alcohol burned her throat and she could feel the fiery sensation follow its route through her gullet to her stomach. She was shocked at her own impetuous act and scared about what might follow. Her heart was hammering and her face felt flushed and hot. Almost immediately her legs felt wobbly and as she took a few tremulous steps, she needed to hold onto the cabinet to steady herself. Then, in slow, shuffling, unsteady steps, she found her way back into her room. As she lay down, she noticed a certain lightheadedness. The pain racking her soul just a few minutes ago seemed to wane into oblivion. She felt as if she were floating. Dharmu closed her eyes but the swaying continued, almost as if she were on a boat, buffeted in stormy waves. But inside, a sudden calm took over her, obliterating everything else. Suddenly, it did not matter if her children existed or her husband made love to her or for that matter if her father slept with half the women in the village. She felt good, suspended on the edge of reality, swaying to a new undiscovered rhythm and she found herself humming a tune, something she had not done in weeks. Everything was fine, everything was all right. This was wonderful. As she sank into a deeper stupor, her lids felt heavy and she succumbed to this heavenly feeling of floating into a deep, dark slumber.
CHAPTER 42 – KANDU
RANGPUR – 1935
“Give up? … Give up?”
Kandu pinned the chowkidar on the floor and sat astride on top of him, with his toy gun held to the poor man’s head. They had been playing chor police for the last hour and of course Kandu was always the good guy, although judging by his behavior lately, he should have been the “chor.” Twice he tore up Rukku’s homework and was punished because he drew a moustache and beard on all of Vani’s Women’s World book covers. The women looked silly anyway, with their yellow bobbed hair and the moustache was really not such a bad idea. This morning, the bearer’s wife complained that baba had put two cockroaches into her pot of boiling dal and of course, Mrs. Bowler also was at the receiving end of Kandu’s unstoppable mischief. It was particularly bad for her because cockroaches were Kandu’s latest discovery and she was scared stiff of them, which made her an easy target. Everyone was petrified of them and Kandu was having the best time of his life. That was until last night when Daddy gave him a sound beating after Rukku dashed hysterically into the room after discovering two live cockroaches under her covers. It was getting impossible to control him. Mahadevan could not figure out what was happening of late to make Kandu’s behavior so incorrigible.
Kandu wandered into the house shouting for Mummy but as usual she was fast asleep on her bed. Kandu scowled as he shook her, trying to awaken her. But she would not stir, no matter what he did. He was angry that of late Mummy was always sleeping, always tired, always nursing a headache, always telling him to go find Meera. He didn’t want Meera, he wanted Mummy. When Daddy came home, it was so late he was almost asleep and could not be with him. Vani and Rukku always told him to get lost, but where should he go? With no other friends, he lived in a state of perpetual boredom. Maybe if he put cockroaches in Mummy’s bed, she would wake up and take notice of him but he didn’t dare do that. Not after the beating he got last night. Despondently, he walked into Vani’s room, hoping she was in a good mood but he was out of luck.
“Vani, will you play with me?”
“Go away, stupid, don’t bother me,” she said harshly. Her romance novel was way too interesting to tear herself away.
“Go away, stupid, don’t bother me,” he aped, and ran to find Rukku. She was still mad with him after the cockroach incident.
“Don’t you dare come near me, or I will hit you with a stick,” she threatened.
“Sorry, Rukku, I won’t put cockroaches any more in your bed. Please play with me,” he pleaded. He was really bored and very sorry about his behavior.
“Why? Where is your dear Mummy?”
“Sleeping again,” he replied dejectedly.
“I know, isn’t it strange how much she has been sleeping lately?”
“I’m tired of her ‘Go find Meera, go find Meera.’ She doesn’t say anything else.”
“Welcome to our life. We have been finding Meera for a long time.”
“Come, let’s play.”
“What do you want to play?”
“Hide and Seek?”
“Ok, you’re it,” and saying so, Rukku ran out of the room to hide.
“One two three…hundred,” said Kandu, reaching one hundred surprisingly soon. Anyway, Rukku was out of the room and couldn’t hear him. He walked into the study and almost immediately spotted Rukku’s feet sticking out under the drapes. Both of them screamed in delight and then it was Kandu’s turn to hide. He went into the living room and hid behind the sofa. Almost immediately, he heard a noise and crept down low, knowing someone was in the room. It couldn’t be Rukku; she would have called out his name by now. He peeped out and saw Mummy. He almost called out to her but something stopped him. Mummy was by the rosewood side table, pouring the colored drink from the decanter into a glass. She gulped it down and poured another shot. What was she doing?
“Mummy,” he cried out. “What are you drinking? Is it whiskey?” Kandu knew the decanter held whiskey because he had seen Daddy drink from it on many previous occasions. Whenever he asked if he could have some, Daddy always said children could not drink whiskey. So then, how come Mummy was drinking whiskey?
“Kandu, what are you doing surprising me like that. I am not drinking anything,” she said swaying a little, her speech slurring.
“Yes you are, I saw you drink two times.”
Dharmu was annoyed that she had been caught. For two weeks now, she had taken a drink, then another and today, she was here drinking for the third time. If Mahadevan found out about her drinking like this during the day, he would be furious. He offered her wine on many occasions but he drank only one glass and that too, as a social drink before dinner. Mummy knew Kandu was a blabbermouth and needed to be shut up.
“Come here, Kandu. See here, you can’t tell anyone what you saw. It is a secret between us. Okay? Just you and me.”
“Not even Vani and Rukku?”
“No, not them, and definitely not Daddy.”
“What about Mrs. Bowler?” Kandu now unnecessarily facetious.
“Now why would you want to share this news with Mrs. Bowler?”
“I don’t know, supposing it slips out of my mouth?”
“No, Kandu, this is a special secret between us and you can’t tell anyone.”
“Ok, then will you play with me?”
“Go find Meera,” said Dharmu weakly. Her legs were trembling, her head was hammering and she was in no condition to talk, let alone play.
“Go find Meera, go find Meera. You always tell me to go find Meera. I don’t want Meera, I want you.” Kandu realized he had the upper hand and was trying to get the best bargain, but Dharmu’s head was throbbing and she didn’t want to deal with Kandu.
“I’ll play with you later,” she said weakly.
“No!” screamed Kandu almost in her face, making her head hammer more painfully. Almost by reflex, Dharmu slapped him hard across his back. For a moment there was a stunned silence. Looking for Kandu’s hiding place, Rukku, had observed everything from the doorway. She came and put her arms around Kandu, an accusing gaze locked on her mother.
“Oh no,” thought Dharmu, this was getting out of control. She could bribe Kandu but the girls were a different story. Now god only knew what Rukku had seen or overheard.
Kandu didn’t cry; he was too stunned. Never before had Mummy slapped him and now she had hit him with full force on his back. He looked at his mother in disbelief. His tender skin had four welts, red and angry, and he tried to reach the spot on his stinging back. Rukku turned her attention to him. “Does it hurt? Com
e let’s find Meera, she will know how to make it better. Leave Mummy alone.” She put her arm around Kandu and led him out of the room but he turned to throw one last bewildered look at his mother.
Dharmu sat down on the sofa, her head in her hands, crying uncontrollably. What had she done? What was happening to her? Mahadevan was sure to see the welts in the evening and there would definitely be a showdown. She could not hide her new habit forever. Now young Rukku was being the mother, while she had just behaved like a petulant child. She had to stop drinking. Maybe telling Mahadevan was not such a bad idea. Maybe he would help her to stop this disgusting habit. She was so absorbed in self-pity she cried continually till she passed out, right there on the sofa.
Rukku kissed Kandu’s injured cheek as she pressed a damp cloth against it. “Poor Kandu, are you better now?”
Kandu nodded, enjoying the attention.
“I love you, Rukku,” he said hugging her tight.
She hugged him back even tighter.
Part XV
Rajam
CHAPTER 43 – RAJAM
VIZHUPURAM – JANUARY, 1935
All preparations for the Pongal festival were completed. Sushila and Rajam had been busy all week getting things ready. They bought clothes for everyone in the family and enjoyed buying new saris for themselves, even though it was not customary to get new clothing for this particular festival. The whole town wore a festive look and homes were bustling with activity. Streets were swept and gutters cleaned and the town looked as if bathed by the first rains. Every dusty corner of each home now shone with cleanliness. New grain and produce arrived from Nagamma’s land, although the quantity had dwindled significantly. The pongal would be cooked with new rice and lentils, while the old grain was stored in separate kudhirs. This was the time to check supplies and replenish the store room. The harvest was a bumper crop this year, and for a change the kudhirs all over town were overflowing with fresh rice, wheat, ragi, lentils, pulses, chillies and spices. All week, women had been busy clearing out and organizing their storerooms. Once that was done, they turned their attention to other parts of the house. Every room was dusted and scrubbed, cobwebs brushed, curtains washed and windows cleaned, and if they could afford it this year, they had their home whitewashed. Finally, the day before the festival, as in every home in town, the front thinnai was swept and washed, and fresh cow dung spread on the floor.
When the Lotus Blooms Page 31