The Letter and the Tears

(Translated by M. S. Ramaswami from the original Tamil Story)

(1)

Sister Annapurni Devi, the founder and head of the famous Devi Vidyalaya, was one evening taking a stroll as usual in the big garden round the institution. The sound of ‘nagaswaram’ music from a bungalow near by aroused bygone memories in her. Her face, usually the seat of extraordinary calmness, showed visible signs of excitement just for a moment. Like a high wave rising suddenly from a calm sea, dashing against the rock near the shore and immersing it for a minute and then receding, leaving little pools of water in the rock, the mental excitement manifested itself for a moment and disappeared, leaving her eyes filled to the brim with salt tears.

Noticing just then Srimathi Savitri, M.A., L.T., the Vidyalaya Assistant, coming towards her, Annapurni Devi quickly wiped off her tears and received her Assistant with a pleasant smile. The two ladies then sat on a platform under an adjacent margosa tree.

Annapurni Devi had literally grown grey in her service to womankind. The dense growth of white hair reminded one of thick layers of white clouds on the mountain tops. Notwithstanding her grey hairs, the lady was not over fifty years of age. She was wonderfully well-preserved for her age and had youthful vigour. Her white robes, her thick growth of white hair and her calm face made her look like an incarnation of the goddess Saraswati.

The story of Annapurni’s life was well known to all. She had the misfortune of becoming a widow while yet a young girl of nine. But her misfortune proved to be the good fortune of womankind at large. Educating herself and becoming a graduate and a licentiate in teaching, she dedicated her life to the service of young widows, women discarded by their husbands, and orphans. It was for this purpose that she founded the Vidyalaya and gave herself, heart and soul, to it.

Savitri was a young woman of twenty-five. She was not yet married. Three years ago, when she finished her education and accepted service in the Vidyalaya, her main concern was salary. But, later, through intimate association with the head of the institution, her whole outlook changed and she even began to cherish kindly thoughts of serving womenfolk all her life like Annapurni.

SAVITRI: - "Madam, while teaching poetry today, I found myself in a fix. When I was explaining the lines, ‘Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love,’ Padma asked me ‘Which love does the poet mean?’ Very naughty girl, Padma!………There, you hear her laugh!"

In another part of the garden some girls were playing with a ball, and the sound of their merry laughter came wafted by the south wind.

ANNAPURNI: - "How did you answer Padma?"

SAVITRI: - "I was at my wit’s end. Here, by ‘love’ the poet means the feeling that exists between the sexes. But, how could I explain this to them? It is delicate enough even with a class of normally placed girls. My professors at the Queen Mary’s College had often felt it so. How much more delicate and embarrassing should it be to one who addresses a group of widows and deserted wives.?….."

Here Savitri suddenly stopped, remembering that Sister Annapurni was also a child-widow and that she might feel pained. With a view to mollify her, she proceeded, saying: "Madam! It seems to me that all these things are foolish. Love and the like sentiments are merely fanciful figments of the idle imagination of easy-going poets. That is what I think….."

ANNAPURNI: - "Is that all? Is everything mere fancy? All right. I will write so to Dr. Srinivasan."

Thus Annapurni delicately touched upon Savitri’s contemplated engagement to Dr. Srinivasan.

SAVITRI: - (With an empty laugh) "Yes. Who knows? Today it seems a settled fact. Two years hence, who knows what it will be?–Let that be, madam! The poet says ‘Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love.’ Is it not wrong? How can it be true? This Devi Vidyalaya has been running smoothly for a quarter of a century, and everybody from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin praises it and your whole-hearted services to it. How can the poet’s words be true of this institution?"

ANNAPURNI: - "Savitri! I do not know much about other things happening in the world and the part that love plays there. But so far as my services are concerned, what the poet says is absolutely true. Love is the root cause of all my attempts……"

SAVITRI: - "Who denies that? Does not everybody know your love for the orphans and for suffering humanity?"

ANNAPURNI: - "I am not speaking of that love. I refer only to the love that the poet speaks of. If ever I had done any service, it originated from the seed of true love."

SAVITRI: - (Wonder-struck) "Madam! Is it true? Oh! tell me everything."

(2)

ANNAPURNI narrates:

"Do you not hear ‘nagaswaram’ music floating from the marriage party? Veeruswamy is playing ‘Reethigowla’ exquisitely. I heard it just a minute before I saw you and was reminded of olden days. Tears filled in my eyes, quite unusually. Years ago I heard Sembonarkoil Ramaswami play the same ‘raga’ on a marriage occasion. Then, he was the most famous among ‘nagaswara’ players….."

SAVITRI: - "Do you still remember all these, madam! I heard that you got married while you were quite a child?"

"I am not referring to my marriage. I was told I was married at six and became a widow at nine. I do not remember that, even as a dream. But in having become a widow very early in life, there was some advantage. It makes you laugh? As a matter of fact, if it had happened four or five years later, I would have been subjected like other widows to more humilities. But being very young, I was spared.

"What I referred to was the marriage of Ambuiam, the daughter of my maternal aunt. I was then sixteen, and she was two years younger. She was very affectionate towards me. I had grown up in my aunt’s house after my widowhood. Out of pity, all people in the house were loving towards me. My word was law there.

"When Ambujam’s marriage was settled, I dictated the arrangements to be made with regard to the clothes to be purchased for the bridegroom, the ‘nagaswaram’ player to be engaged, the menu for the feast on the fourth day–in fact, every detail for the marriage.

"The night previous to the marriage, after the reception was over, the formal betrothal took place. I was standing among the women of the bride’s party. Ambujam was seated on the dais, and the gem-set hair ornament on her head got loosened. I approached her and set it right. Raising my head I saw a young man staring at me intently. I was all a-tremble. My head reeled; I felt I was about to fall into a swoon. But by the grace of merciful Providence no such thing happened.

"I passionately desired to look at the young man again. I had never before dreamt that there could be such desire. However much I did try, I could not repress it. Finally when I turned towards him, just then he was taking off his eyes that were all along fixed on me.

"I did not sleep at all that night.

"The next day the marriage was celebrated with all grandeur. To all outward appearances I was looking after the affairs; but my mind was not in them. It was roaming in a world all its own.

"On the marriage day it was clear to me beyond the shadow of a doubt that the young man was looking at me intentionally and not by mere accident. I perceived that some magnetic power drew me towards him…..There, do you see the full moon rise?" Sister Annapurni Devi questioned Savitri, and Savitri turned her eyes to gaze at the moon.

"Times without number I had seen the full moon rise, but I had never before realised its beauty as I did on that night of Ambujam’s marriage. Never did the melody of ‘nagaswaram’ bring so much bliss to me. The perfume of the sandal, and the sweet scent of the jasmine had never before given me so much delight.

"Strange desires sprang within me. Like other girls, I too wished to dress my hair and wear flowers and the vermilion mark on my fore-head and the sandal paste.

"On the third day of the marriage I took Ambujam to the residence of the bridegroom’s party. Her hair was dressed by the bridegroom’s sister. What ornaments Ambujam possessed and what more she expected were the anxious queries of the bridegroom’s sister. But I was not interested in these. Some-body was talking in the hall, and I happened to overhear a few words. The voice resembled his, and I was all ears. There was a sweetness and tenderness in it. As he talked about the pitiful plight of young widows, he quoted many great men who were referring to its cruelties and also mentioned many books on the subject. ‘Read the ‘Story of Muthuminakshi’ by Madhaviah,’ are the clear words of his that I still remember.

"Then somebody said, ‘Yes, my dear fellow! You talk so much. Why not marry Annapurni?’ He said in reply, ‘You talk rubbish. I’d rather talk to stone walls than argue with you all!’ Immediately I heard somebody leaving the room, and probably it was he.

"Within two or three days after the marriage, I managed to gather all available information about him. I learnt that he stood first in the Presidency in his B.A. Degree Examination that year, and that there were many offers of marriage for him, with five thousand rupees as dowry. To be deemed worthy of his love! No. I could not believe I could ever be so lucky.’

(3)

"On the fourth day of the marriage I heard that the bridegroom’s mother was not well. I went to see her at her residence. All the way I was thinking whether he would be there. Crossing the doorstep I saw him walking to and fro in the hall, all alone. As soon as he saw me he came near and asked, ‘Whom do you want?’ I was much too puzzled to reply. He quickly placed a letter in my hand, and closed my fist so as to hide it, and went away immediately.

"My body trembled like leaves in a storm. But, I took courage, kept the letter in my bosom and went in. While talking to the bridge groom’s mother, I was so absent-minded and in such a flutter that the lady asked me what I was suffering from, and told me that I appeared to be ill. Telling her that I had a sudden touch of headache, I returned home, spread a mat in an inner apartment and, lying on it, sobbed away all the time. I have never yet seen him……"

SAVITRI: - "Oh ! Why did you do that, madam? What was it that you found in that letter?"

ANNAPURNI: - "You ask of that letter? He showered in it all the love he bore, and said that he was prepared to make any sacrifice for my sake and to face any opposition. At the same time he had made it plain that he did not want to seduce or compel me. If I had any love for him, and courage enough to face the ridicule of the world, I was to keep a jasmine in my hand during the ‘nalungu’ in the evening or in the procession at night, as an indication of my love. On seeing that sign, he promised, he would make every other arrangement."

"Then, why did you weep, madam?"

"I failed him, of course. And since I lay down weeping, he must have thought that I had no love for him but was feeling wounded. Thus ended the four days of happy dreams in my life….."

"But, why didn’t you do as he bid you, madam?"

"I am ashamed to tell you the reason even now. The fact is that I read his letter only a year afterwards. Before that I had shed tears over the letter, and when at last I could manage to read it, half of it was disfigured by my tears."

"What is it you say, madam? Then you….."

"Yes, Savitri! Only the shame and the pain I experienced that night induced me to get, educated, to become a B.A., and an L. T., and to serve womankind as I have been serving. That day when he touched my hand and gave me the letter I was an illiterate. I could not read it."

Drops of tears rolled down Savitri’s cheeks and shone like pearls in the moonlight.

The ‘nagaswara’ player–was he playing ‘Kedaragowla’ or pouring forth through his pipe all the pathos of this worldly life?