Triveni Journal
1927 | 11,233,916 words
Triveni is a journal dedicated to ancient Indian culture, history, philosophy, art, spirituality, music and all sorts of literature. Triveni was founded at Madras in 1927 and since that time various authors have donated their creativity in the form of articles, covering many aspects of public life....
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(Translated by the Author from his original Tamil Story)
I
Since dawn everything had gone wrong between Parvati and her husband. It looked as if the sun, when he rose, smiled at her cunningly and said, "To-day shall be a day of discord for you and your husband."
The troubles of the day began early in the morning with the question of the Bangalore silk saree.
"For two days I've been asking you, and you don’t seem to concern yourself with it at all," she began, while giving him his morning coffee. "It has become quite your nature to be negligent towards me."
Finding no response from him, she continued in a woeful tone, "Is there any decent saree for a woman to wear in this house?"
Sekaran smiled at her provokingly. He lifted the cup to his lips, and after a sip laid it aside, and said, "Does one ever get decent coffee in this house, that a man can drink?"
"Throw it into the well if you don't like it" replied Parvati, irritated. "From the day before yesterday I've been asking you for the saree–and you do nothing but sit and smile! What is one to do with a man like you? Tell me, what am I to wear today at the club?–And today is our Annual Day!–But don’t you go on smiling like that–I suppose I had better remain at home....And what will Sulochana, Saroja, Lila and the rest say? Will they not say, ‘It must be Parvati’s husband again’? And supposing they come here to look me up: what shall I tell them? Shall I tell them that I have no decent saree to wear?"
Though the saree which she had desired him to buy was rather above his means, Sekaran had already made up his mind to buy it for her. But he wanted to have some engaging talk with her for a while, and he began teasing her.
"Oh!" he cried. "You mean, then, they’ll really come here? That’s frightening! How can I have the courage to face them when I haven’t bought you the saree?..I suppose I must buy it now, at once, for you..."
"Whatever I say is fun to you...Really I’ve no good saree to wear, and even you won’t help me!…But what’s the use of talking? I shall go to people who’ll care for me. I shall go home to my mother this very day. You’ll be glad to be rid of me."
"But if you go, who is to meet your friends when they come here enquiring after you? I surely can’t! I shan’t have the courage to face them–your Sulochana and the rest!….Please don’t go away…..Besides, I think you told me that today is the annual day of your club. Surely you can’t miss that?"
"Does it make any difference to you?….Well, well, I’m going."
"If you go, please ask your mother to get you that saree. Otherwise; when you come here, you may have to start again, saying that you’ll go to your mother’s. And she may not be prepared to receive you again so soon."
"How can you talk like that? Do you think she will also be heartless like you?" Parvati turned her face quickly away from him. Sekaran felt that he had gone too far. In the eyes which were averted from his view, he knew that tears were already gathering.
"Don’t get angry with me, Parvati," he said, taking her hand in his. "I admit I went too far in my jesting. But don’t take it ill. After all you will have the saree now, just as you please. I was only teasing you–I didn’t mean anything, you know."
"Who wants the saree now?" she said defiantly. "After all this begging! How you made me dance attendance on you! So I’ve to cry my throat hoarse every time I want a saree?
Could you not have got me the wretched thing without all this?"
Sekaran was taken a. "I am extremely sorry, Parvati" he said. "I didn’t mean anything, you know. How can you talk like this? I told you it was only a jest."
"A fine jest I And do you think you’ve had enough?"
Though Sekaran tried hard to conciliate her she would not yield. She would not consent to having the new silk saree.
He tried all he could to persuade her to go to the shops with him, but she would not. She became unusually stubborn’ and peevish. She told him firmly that she would not hear a word about the saree from him. He had to confess defeat.
During the rest of the day she appeared somewhat serious and busy with her household work. But there was no other change visible in her. She did not display any sign of having been displeased or disappointed.
At dinner time he gently broached the subject of the saree again. But she was stubborn yet. She would not hear a word of it.
"I’m not attending the function today," she said resolutely.
"Why are you so angry with me? Have I committed such a great offence? I did’nt refuse you. Can’t you allow me to have a little fun?"
"Of course you may have. I’m only helping you to carry it to the end."
"You are very inconsiderate, Parvati. I’ve told you I’m truly sorry for my words."
"As if you are very considerate towards me! It is because of you that I’m not attending the function today."
"How can it be? Am I not asking you now, again and again, to go?"
"Oh? As if I mustn’t go to the club when you don’t like my going! And then I must forget all your words the next moment, and be ready to go when you wish me to go! A fine idea! But I’am not going to the club and I’m quite definite about it. And it’s because of you I’m not going."
It was impossible to conciliate her. Sekaran wondered how stubborn she had suddenly become that day. However hard he argued and pleaded with her, she remained firm in her determination. She would not have the saree and she would not attend the annual function of the ladies’ club.
When he was starting for his office he saw Parvati also getting ready to go out somewhere. This was certainly unusual with her.
"Where are you going, Parvati?" She did not answer him.
"Going to your mother’s house?" he asked her mischievously, in spite of himself. Though he had been sorry for his own fault, he was, by this time, a little vexed at her obstinacy.
"Perhaps you wish it. But I’m not going there," she replied calmly.
"Be sensible. Why do you talk like this?"
"I’m going to my friend’s house. Rajee’s house."
"When will you return?"
"I don’t know. It may take a long time."
Sekaran was silent for a while. Then he began, "Well, Parvati, now that you are ready to go out somewhere, why can’t you come with me to the shops? We’ll buy the saree now, if you like."
"No, I don’t want the saree. I must go to my friend’s house. She’ll be waiting for me."
"Surely she won’t mind waiting for you for some time?–Say, half-an-hour or so, for the sake of your new saree..."
"But I don’t like to make her wait."
"Well, in that case, you may go to your friend’s house. Ishall go to the shops myself and buy that saree for you."
"Goodness! Won’t you let me have some peace? I telI you that I don’t want the saree, but you’ll not listen to me How many times have I to repeat that I don’t want it? Please leave me alone…..Well then, you may buy it for yourself, if you like, and then you may worship it–I don’t care! But don’t show it to me!"
Sekaran had to accept defeat again. But now he thought he would try another method. He would yield to her obstinacy frankly, and at the same time he would sue for peace.
"As you are so determined on not attending the function," he said, "I shall not talk about it. But tell me, how shall we spend this evening? Shall we go to the pictures?"
She appeared to be considering his proposal.
"I’ll return from the office early. What do you say?–Shall we go to the pictures?"
"To which picture?" she asked. She seemed to be giving way at last.
"To ‘Bhagya Chakra’" he replied eagerly and quickly.
"But who will go to that? I don’t know Hindi."
This was unexpected. What a fool he was! Could he not have mentioned some other picture?
"Well, we shall go to whichever picture you like. Shall we?"
"There’s time yet to think of it–after you return from the office," she replied.
Sekaran started for office at last, somewhat relieved at his partial success. Though she had been very obstinate, he was really sorry that she would not, because of him, be attending the annual function of her club that evening.
When he left for his office Parvati also started for her friend’s house.
II
When Parvati walked into Rajee’s house she saw in a side-room Rajee’s husband lying on a bench.
"Ill luck here again!" she thought. "I thought I could have a free day with Rajee to forget things for a while. But here is her husband in the house! Why didn’t he go to office today? I wonder why he didn’t.’
After the greetings were over, the very first thing which Parvati heard from Rajee was that her husband had been ill for a few days, that his condition had been serious to begin with, but that fortunately he was coming round.
"Who is anxious to know all this?" thought Parvati to herself.
To make matters worse for her, there was Rajee’s mother-in-law also in the house, a garrulous old woman who broke into the conversation of the friends, now and again, with loud useless talk. To judge by her looks, thought Parvati, she was certainly aged; and to judge by her talk. she was even more aged–sinking into senility.
"I know it is the work of a devil," began the old woman with a very learned air, shaking her head wisely and screwing her wrinkled features. "But who listens to the words of an old woman nowadays?"
"But why does she make such contortions?" thought Parvati, looking at her.
"Even today they talk of Kuttichattan and other devils in Malabar. They seem to know a lot of these things there. Only here in Madras, it’s all a talk of medicines–medicines, medicines, and nothing else. Much these people benefit by their medicines! And yet none will listen to my words. When I tell them that it is the work of a devil–"
Is he possessed by a devil herself?" reflected Parvati about the old woman. "Why does she keep on talking about devils? How she has given me a head-ache!"
"–They won’t listen to me. They’ll give only medicines. Precious little they seem to know beyond medicines. Thank God, I happened to be here during my son’s illness!"
"Why not thank the devil?" thought Parvati.
"If I had not been here, who knows what might have happened? The illness was on him like a devil and it might have eaten him up, for aught I know….."
"What did you do to prevent that?" asked Parvati, somewhat put out.
"Why, I sent Rajee to the temple daily, morning and evening, to pray for his recovery. But what a question!–Do you think you know more than I do?"
Parvati remained silent.
"Nowadays young people have no respect for age. Tomorrow, I suppose, I’ll have to listen to advice from a child of one year, if it could talk..."
"But then," said Parvati, artfully turning a deaf ear to the old woman, "you must call the exorcist to expel the evil spirit from him. That’s what they do in Malabar. If, instead of that, you call upon the god in the temple, what can that poor god do?"
"What impudence! What cheek!" exclaimed the old woman, and she flew into such a rage that she might have been possessed by a devil of her own making. Her features grew still more wrinkled and ugly, and the spectacle of old age in anger which she presented was far from edifying.
Fortunately the old woman ceased talking much after this. But her very presence was irritating to Parvati, and she heaved a sigh of relief when, at four o’clock in the evening, she and Rajee left the house for the temple.
"It’s a good thing, Rajee," said Parvati to her friend when they had left the house behind them, "that you pray for your husband’s recovery, and not your mother-in-law."
During the rest of the walk to the temple the friends did not talk to each other. For Parvati was getting thoughtful……It was then past four o’clock. Her husband would have returned home from the office, and was perhaps, at that very moment, waiting for her. But she did not want to return home early. If she did, he would start arguing again with her. She knew it would end in her going either to the ladies’ club or to the pictures. True, she had her liberty. But she knew her weakness. She could not long stand her husband’s persuasions. She wanted to punish him for his inattention to her, and she should not attend the function that evening. She knew that he would never afterwards forget it. So she made up her mind finally that she would not return home yet.
On their way to the temple the friends had to pass by the Rasika Ranjani Sabha (the Literary and Dramatic Society). A poster in its premises, announcing that there would be a ‘Kalakshepam’ that evening by Nataraja Bhagavatar on the later life of Rama, caught Parvati’s eye. This imperceptibly mingled with her thoughts. She began to think that she might well spend the evening, which she had determined to stay away from home, in listening to the story. But she could not easily come to a decision. Before she mentioned her idea to her friend, asking her to attend the performance too, they were already very near Rajee’s house, on their way from the temple.
"He is ill," said Rajee apologetically, referring to her husband.
"What if? His mother is at home."
"Yes, but what about me?"
"Why," answered Parvati with a smile, "your prayers at the temple will make the household gods watch over him when, you yourself are away. Come, let us go. The Sabha is very near the temple, you know."
Before Rajee could make up her mind, they had reached her house, and they found there Parvati’s servant waiting for them.
"The master returned home early," said the servant to Parvati. "He is ill, and he sent me to fetch you."
"Well" said Rajee, as Parvati stood undecidedly. "I was feeling rather delicate to refuse you. But now this settles the matter."
Instinctively Parvati knew the truth. Her husband was not ill. He had contrived this little ruse to make her return home. Upon her returning, he would begin arguing with her again. He would ask her to attend the ladies’ meeting or to go to the talkie-house with him. She pictured to herself everything that may have happened at home. Her husband would have returned from the office early. He may have been surprised not to find her at home yet. He may have waited for her to arrive for some time. When it got late he may have guessed her purpose from her unusually long visit to her friend’s, and he had then sent the servant to bring her home. But she was not the one to be taken in so easily. She certainly would not return home just then. If she went home, she knew she would, in the end, be going also to the club or to the cinema. And she did not want the matter to end like that. So, she said to herself resolutely, she would not return home.
"What is there to think about?" asked Rajee, finding Parvati thoughtful.
"Well, what do you say?" said Parvati, turning to Rajee in a very dignified and indifferent manner.
"–Say about what?" asked Rajee.
"Are you coming with me or not?"
"What do you mean?"
"I’m going to the performance."
Rajee stared. "What’s wrong with you? You behave strangely."
"I’ll tell you presently. Let’s now go to the performance."
"What will you then say to your servant?"
"He’ll go home and see if it is necessary to fetch a doctor."
"Parvati, I can’t understand you. Surely you must return home now, mustn’t you? I’ll speak frankly, I won’t consent to go with you to the performance. I’ll then be partly responsible for keeping you away from your husband. If I don’t agree to go with you, you may not perhaps be going to the performance and may return home instead."
"No, I’m going to the performance for my own sake–not for yours….Well, well, wait a minute then......Here, boy, go home and ask the master whether he wants a doctor to be sent for. Go home and be quick about it." She waited till he had gone about 50 steps and then she turned to Rajee. "Well, there’s now no doubt about the matter, is there? Are you satisfied now that you’ll not be responsible, in any way, for my going to the performance? Now then, tell me, will you come with me? Will you?"
"I don’t understand you, Parvati. But I’ll come with you only if you promise me one thing, You must tell me why you are behaving so strangely. I should say, madly."
"I’ll tell you all presently," laughed Parvati, with a bright wet film appearing in her eyes. "But now we’ll go to the performance and then we’ll talk about everything."
And the two friends went to the performance at last......In the Sabha, the learned ‘Bhagavatar’ was pouring forth all the pathos of Bhavabhuti’s play and Kalidasa’s poem. Suddenly, in the middle, Parvati got up from her seat.
"Come, Rajee," she said, "We’ll go home."
Rajee, without understanding her, followed her out of the Sabha.
"I’ll tell you everything tomorrow," said Parvati as she left Rajee in her house on their way. "Please excuse me. Please wait, and don’t ask me anything just now."
As she hurried home, various thoughts came thronging into her mind.
Suppose her husband were really ill?….She knew that the message was only a ruse….And yet…..If he were really ill?…..What then?…..There was none at home…..And she also was staying away…..In Rajee’s house at least there was her mother-in-law to look after the sick man. And yet that stupid girl had been so faint-hearted. While she?–When there was none at home!…..Thus, in the end, Parvati also became "faint-hearted" like Rajee….
Parvati would certainly have acted as she did, even if the story which she had heard in the Sabha had not been about the later life of Rama. But the Sita who was presented to to her by the ‘Bhagavatar’ did reprove her with the power of a woman’s love. Parvati thought of her who had not loved Rama the less because he had banished her shamelessly into the forests when she was far gone with child. Then Parvati remembered how she had, that very day, allowed a saree to come between her and her husband, spoiling their peace. What had he done her, she thought, compared with Rama’s shameless deed, which was a wrong and an outrage? And for that…..for a stupid saree......for things that really have no value……for things that perish…….Yes, for these, she had worked herself into a fit of anger, perversity and obstinacy…..It was all really so thoughtless and inconsiderate of her, if one were to think about the matter calmly……And as these thoughts fleeted across her mind, Parvati quickened her pace for home.
It was dark when she reached home. Sekaran was standing on the threshold. In his hands he held a saree. Oh darling, what a saree!–Far and away the best that she had seen!–A silk saree of a light sky-blue, bordered with a glorious silver floral design, with the air of a queen’s robe about it!….How much would it have cost him, really?
But when she began to speak, all the words which she had recited to herself on the way to tell her sick husband, all the thoughts of self-accusation, all were gone. She only knew that she had been deceived. It had been just as she had guessed. He had taken advantage of her weakness again...And yet, in spite of this knowledge, the new saree fell from her hands, unheeded on the ground, and his hands took hers.
That night, while she lay awake, she thought, "After all I need not have got so angry and gone away so stubbornly."
And he thought, "After all I am to blame. I need not have been such an ass–and not have understood her. I might have bought her the saree at once…..She would have been immensely pleased…….I was a perfect fool……"
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