Siva obviously didn’t particularly care if she knew, or he would have taken care to remove all overt signs of his unfaithfulness. Not that she could openly discuss and air her doubts. Doing that would only confirm her suspicions, making it a reality and not just a figment of her imagination. In any case, how would it benefit her to know? Could she leave him or make him stop doing what he did? No, that was not possible. Some people were born with these tendencies and no matter how good or beautiful their wives were, they would still go to other women. It was like a disease or addiction. If he continued on this path, it was only a matter of time before he contracted some dreadful disease. Every time she slept with him, she waited for boils to appear in her groin but she had been lucky so far. It was peaceful when he travelled, even though she knew what he was doing. But when he returned, the tension became intolerable. Why was it that only men could take lovers? Why could she not do the same? But it was no use thinking about such things. Here under Nagamma’s eagle eye she could do nothing except suffer in silence. ‘One day,’ she told herself, ‘I will make him suffer the same pain.’
“Sushila, where the hell are you?” Siva sounded annoyed that she didn’t respond to his first call. She hurried outside, wiping her hands on her sari.
“Come on. How many times do I need to call you?”
“My hands were dirty and I needed to clean them,” she said apologetically.
“Come to the terrace, I have something to discuss with you,” he said leading the way up the stairs.
Discuss, not instruct? She thought to herself. This is a first. They sat on the charpoy making sure no one was snooping around to overhear their conversation.
“I have got a job in Madras with a Japanese company and I join next month.”
“But what about your parents?” Sushila knew the eldest son was primarily responsible for the family and this news would break the family apart.
Siva looked visibly annoyed at her question. He knew very well he was abandoning the family at their time of need. “I can’t take them. I have run this household for so many years, now let Partha take care.” Siva did not want to answer her questions. What he was doing was selfish and there was really no justification to his actions.
“But why the urgency?” In spite of everything, Sushila did not want to be the one to break the family apart.
“Amma has lost all her money and she wants me to sign the insolvency papers.”
“So? Why don’t you sign them?”
“Are you stupid? If I sign them then no one will hire me again and my entire future will be at risk.”
“But how can we just abandon them? What will they do?”
“I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. I am tired of supporting this household and I need a break.” Sushila was shocked at his rationale. “Yenna, that is not correct. After all, your mother has cared for you for so many years.”
“If you love her so much, then you stay. I have made up my mind. I leave in two weeks.”
“Have you told her about this?”
“Not yet, but I will. I wanted to tell you first.” If Siva wanted her approval, then he was in for a surprise because she could not support him openly and still hope to be part of the family.
“You said we would discuss it, but it looks like you have made up your mind, so what is the point of talking further? I feel guilty abandoning the family. What will they do? Partha does not earn enough.” Siva was quiet; he felt guilty too but he was tired of being the sole supporter for the family.
“Let us go to Madras first and then I can think about my brothers. But first, I have to think of myself and my interests.”
“Yenna, we can’t break this family up. Whatever happens, you are the oldest and it is your responsibility to take care of the family.”
“While my father sits around doing nothing?”
“Forget your father; he’s old. Think about your mother and your brothers.”
“Okay, okay, stop lecturing me. I don’t need my wife to tell me what to do.” Sushila became silent. Siva looked troubled. This was a difficult decision and he had to make a tough choice. His mind was racing. “I won’t sign the insolvency papers. Let Partha do it.” He looked quizzically at her. But Sushila said nothing.
“I will talk to Amma in the evening. I leave in two weeks and you can join me in a few months when I find a house.” Siva departed, leaving Sushila confused. She sat down, her thoughts in turmoil. On the one hand, she was excited about leaving the village and moving to the city. Moreover, she would have her own home and be free from Nagamma’s clutches. But then, there was this overwhelming sense of guilt at abandoning the family. Anyway, this was not her decision to make; it was Siva’s and if anyone should be guilty it was he. If he felt no remorse, then why should she care? She was going to be free.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone retching. She peered over the side and saw Rajam bent over throwing up. What was wrong? Was she sick or was it possible…? Mentally she counted the days back to when she had spoken to her the last time she got her period. It was over forty days.
Good heavens! Rajam was pregnant!!
Part XVI
Dharmu
CHAPTER 46 – MAHADEVAN
RANGPUR – AUGUST, 1935
Mahadevan poured himself a scotch and water and was on his way to the verandah to enjoy a drink when he noticed a substantial drop in the level of the whisky decanter. He looked closely again. Yes, the level had fallen by at least four inches. That was strange! Last week he noticed the same thing but Dharmu said the servant had tipped over the bottle while dusting. He did not remember drinking after topping up the decanter the last time, so how come the low level? “Dharmu where are you?” he yelled, walking into the bedroom, only to find his wife fast asleep. He glanced at his pocket watch. It was a little past nine. “What? Sleeping again?” He muttered a few expletives under his breath, turned around and walked towards the kitchen, thinking that he may as well ask the bearer what had happened. Fool, dropping precious whiskey!
“Gautam… Gautam…” he called out, his voice visibly irritated.
“Aaya Saab,” was the reply as Gautam rushed into the living room.
“Did you drop the whiskey bottle again this week?”
“No Saab, I am always very careful while dusting. I have never dropped it.”
“Then have you been drinking from the bottle?”
Gautam’s face turned red with indignation. He had tried the whiskey once and found it too smooth for his liking. Frankly, he preferred the strong smell of country liquor.
“No Saab,” he said pulling his earlobes, “I would never touch it.”
Mahadevan was so busy arguing with Gautam, he didn’t notice Kandu saunter into the living room dressed for sleep in his crisply starched and ironed white pajama-kurta. For a while, Kandu did not pay attention to the heated conversation but it didn’t take him long to figure things out.
“Daddy, what happened?”
“Nothing to do with you, Kandu. I am trying to solve the mystery of my whiskey disappearing.”
“What mystery? Mummy drinks it.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could take them back. Kandu knew he had put his foot in it and now Mummy would be mad with him for telling tales. He covered his mouth with his hands and looked soulfully at his father, his eyes filled with remorse at his own impetuousness. A stunned silence followed as Mahadevan digested this piece of information. Kandu fibbed at times but his response was almost immediate and by the look on his face, Kandu was not lying. But Mahadevan still needed to be sure. “What do you mean Kandu? Don’t talk nonsense.”
“No Daddy, it’s not nonsense. I have seen her drinking from the bottle many times. If you don’t believe me, ask Rukku.” Kandu was too petrified now to speak anything but the truth. Mahadevan realized that and he sat down on the sofa, stunned and speechless.
On cross examining Kandu, the story emerged and unfolded. The drinking, the sleeping suddenly made
sense. When Kandu showed him the fading red welts on his back from when he was beaten, Mahadevan was truly distressed that he had not noticed it earlier. What happened in the last couple of weeks to affect Dharmu in this disturbing way? How did it totally escape his attention?
Mahadevan was nonplussed. How should he react? He could not believe that in such a short time Dharmu had drunk so much whiskey. No wonder she slept so much. If he had come close to her, he would have smelled it on her breath but these last couple of weeks were so busy he returned home way after Dharmu had retired to bed. By the time he came to bed it was early morning and he had no inclination to do anything but sleep. He was angry with her for behaving this way. After all that he did to provide for her: giving her a large house with a retinue of servants. Her only responsibility was to be a good mother and care for the children. How dare she drink so heavily? How dare she beat Kandu? He got up from the sofa and strode out of the room, ready to wake her up and beat some sense into her.
Kandu recognized his intention and ran after his father wailing loudly. “Daddy, no Daddy, don’t get angry with her… Daddy leave her alone.” Kandu was on the floor holding on to his father’s leg, weeping uncontrollably. Mahadevan stopped in his tracks and stooped to pick up his son, hugging and kissing away the tears from his face. In between hiccupping and the tears, Kandu pleaded with his father.
“Daddy, don’t get angry with Mummy. She will know… th…that I told you… and then … again she will b… b…beat me.”
“No Kandu, don’t cry. I am not angry. I won’t say anything to Mummy. Don’t ever think you will be in trouble if you tell me the truth. No one can ever punish you for that.” Mahadevan rocked him gently in his arms and carried him to bed. Kandu’s arms were tightly locked around his father’s neck, forcing Mahadevan to lie down next to him.
What a mess! A disturbed child, a wayward mother and an absent father.
As Kandu slipped into slumber, Mahadevan unlocked his son’s limp arms from around his neck and slowly got up. Dharmu’s snores from the other room disgusted him. She had slept through all of this. In a way it was a good thing Kandu had stopped him from waking Dharmu, given his mental condition at the time. He would surely have slapped her in front of the child and that would have traumatized Kandu further, creating more complications. He was not violent by nature but knowing that his wife, a conservative Brahmin woman, could actually drink till she was intoxicated, made him furious. He was not opposed to drinking per se, and had offered Dharmu a glass of wine on many occasions, but knocking back a couple of pegs of whiskey was a far cry from downing half a bottle. Maybe it was his fault. After all, if not for his influence, she wouldn’t dream of drinking. Heavens, this was terrible! How should he deal with it? What should he say? His confusion was unfamiliar. Normally so clear thinking, he couldn’t imagine reacting as emotionally as he was doing right now. Work was work and one could be dispassionate about it — but family? That was much closer to the heart.
Despondently, he sat down on the rocking chair in his study and began chanting verses from the Bhagavad Gita. He needed to calm himself, to get some perspective or else things would go out of control. Tomorrow he would tackle the situation with a cool head.
CHAPTER 47 – DHARMAMBAL
RANGPUR – THE NEXT MORNING
Dharmu could barely open her eyes but the hammering in her head woke her up, making her sharply aware of the pressure on her bladder. With much difficulty she staggered to the bathroom, each agonizing step tempting her back to the comfort of her bed. The chamber pot was full and the toilet smelt disgusting! Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her brain, she could hear the birds chirping, the sound wafting in through the window, but each sound jangled and reverberated in her throbbing brain. She recoiled at her image in the mirror: her bloodshot eyes, messy hair and coated tongue disgusted her. Her grey tongue looked and felt as though layers of muck had settled on it. Walking painfully to bed, she opened the drawer and took out the balm for her headache. Its strong camphor scent would help relieve the pain.
Still early in the day, she could not hear any noises from the kitchen. Heaven knew what the exact time was, but no one in the household had stirred. The hammering in her cranium sounded as though someone were playing a mridangam and thaviljugalbandi inside her head, except that everything was out of sync. Each side of her brain seemed to be acting independently of the other, making her heart beat at two different rhythms and the cacophony was driving her crazy. And to her agony, she wanted to urinate again. If only she could go back to sleep. She wanted to sleep forever because waking up meant encountering Mahadevan and she was in no condition for that. Why was life so complicated? What if Kandu had mentioned yesterday’s incident? A shiver went down her spine. She hoped against hope that Mahadevan hadn’t seen the angry welts on Kandu’s back. That foolish child had a big mouth. He was sure to tell his darling father. She groaned loudly. It hurt even to think. Maybe she should have another shot of whiskey to ease the pain.
She stepped out of her room, stopping to listen for any sounds, as she made her way to the living room. In addition to the darkness, her eyes were foggy and unfocused but she could still perceive the outline of the decanter. Divine sleep inducing whiskey! What a discovery! Capable of obliterating any pain and drowning you in deep, comforting sleep. She could hear the sound of breathing coming from the study. She tiptoed across, swaying and confused, and peeped in. Mahadevan was fast asleep in his rocking chair, his mouth slightly open and his head askew. What if he woke up? No, that wouldn’t happen. She would be as quiet as possible. It was one measly drink anyway. After this, she would never drink again. Just this once it would be nice to feel the exhilarating liquid burn down her gullet and then in a bit, she would be fast asleep.
The living room was darker than she hoped and she was wobbly, hung over and sleepy, and to her horror, she bumped into the corner table. Damn! It made a piercing noise as the legs of the table creaked across the wooden floor. Dharmu held the table to steady herself, not daring to breathe. Damn, damn, damn! Why did she have to bump into the table right now? Why was it so dark? Was it her imagination or did sounds become louder in the dark?
She waited, half bent over the corner table, straining to hear if the noise had woken Mahadevan. She could only hear the comforting sound of even breathing, and emboldened, sure that no one had been disturbed, she walked to the side board and slowly pulled on the crystal cork. Dharmu reveled in the sound of the pouring whiskey, similar to the waters of the Kutralam Falls. Yes, sounds were definitely much louder in the dark.
She brought the glass tantalizingly to her lips, when a hand clamped her wrist. She looked up, stunned to see Mahadevan, who pried the glass out of her quivering grasp. Dharmu stared at him, shaking uncontrollably and then, thankfully, the whole world went dark.
When Dharmu opened her eyes she was lying on her bed and Mahadevan was dabbing her hot forehead with a damp cloth. She cringed in shame. And the quivering resumed with greater intensity. She waited for his admonishment but he remained silent and completely calm.
“Say something,” she pleaded.
Mahadevan’s eyes were clear and cold and he knew that now was not the best time to chastise her. “No, Dharmu, not now. You sleep. We will talk later.”
“Later? No, not later. Please say something. Slap me! Do something! Oh, dear God, please take me away.” The tears of self-pity flowed down her pallid cheeks, wetting the white pillow cover. Just then Meera walked in with a drink.
“Come drink this; it will take the headache away and make you sleep.”
She swallowed the nasty liquid in one gulp and convulsed into a bout of coughing.
“Sleep now. I will see you in the evening.” Mahadevan pulled the curtains close and instructed Meera to watch over Dharmu.
“Sleep? I can’t sleep. I want to die,” she said burying her head in the pillow in shame.
“No Dharmu, you won’t die, not now at least, but you will sleep, and when you wake up, you
will feel better.”
She did not know how long she slept but when she opened her eyes she could see the rays of the setting sun making designs on the ceiling as they bounced off the glass panes. “Meera?” she called out, and Meera was in the door almost as soon as the words left her mouth. “Has Saab returned?”
“No Memsahib, but he said to give you some ginger tea when you woke up. Shall I bring it now?”
“Yes, and bring me something to eat too.” Her stomach was growling. She had not eaten for a whole day. She sat down in the verandah and stared vacantly into the distance. She felt empty. No thoughts, no feelings, just emptiness. Meera came in with a tray and set it down. Dharmu glanced at the tray. As she stared at the hot ginger tea and tomato sandwiches, the saliva painfully rushed into her mouth and she took her first ravenous bite.
She must have been sitting and nibbling for the better part of an hour when she heard the phaeton pull up at the gate. She tried to get up but her legs felt weak and she slopped down on the chair, helplessly gaping as the phaeton pulled in and Mahadevan stepped out. Her bloodshot eyes were filled with fear and remorse but she had no choice except to wait for what would follow, like a lamb to the slaughter.
Mahadevan came in and sat down next to her. The silence was uneasy and Dharmu, already nervous, broke out into a cold sweat.
When the Lotus Blooms Page 33