I am Quits with You

(A short-story)

SRI VISWANATHA SATYANARAYANA
Translated from the original in Telugu by

DR. L. S. R. KRISHNA SASTRY,
Reader in English, Andhra University.

Suryanarayana sat for food. Meenakshi stood near the door of the kitchen, ghee-cup in hand. Suryanarayana, about to sprinkle water over the food before eating, asked, “Where is Krishnamurti?” Krishnamurti peeped in from the threshold leading to the yard. Suryanarayana smilingly said, “Come, dear child, come, have your food.” Krishnamurti held .

Suryanarayana: “Come, knavish sprite!”

Krishnamurti concealed his face behind the door, showed his face a little and smiled.

Surya: “Come, dear child, come.” (To wife) “Bring him along here.”

Meenakshi, carrying Krishnamurti in arms, seated him near Suryanarayana and prepared food for him separately in a silver cup.

Surya : “Shall I put ghee in the food and feed you?”

Krishna: “I’11 thakeand eath.”

Meenakshi: “All right, you thakeand eath.”So saying, she kissed the boy. Throughout the eating of food, priority in everything was for Krishnamurti and as he liked.

After food Suryanarayana sat in the hall and asked, “Halo! Krishnamurti, will you have pan?”

Krishnamurti said with a drawl, “Yes, I’ll have.”

Suryanarayana cracked the nut into two, put one half in his mouth, and giving the betel leaf after a touch of chunam, asked, “What’s your name?”

Krishna: “Kitthamuti”

Surya: “Your father’s name?”

Krishna: “It’s, of course, Venkatetallavu.”

Surya: “Your mother’s name?”

Krishna: “Anathooya”

Suryanarayana said, “O! Is it so!”, and was delighted.

Ten times during the day the boy was this way made to repeat the names to his delight. The experience was fresh Every time.

In the meanwhile Venkateswararao came there after his food, and seeing his son, asked, “Where did you have food?”

Krishna: “In the house of these people.”

Venka: “Is it proper to eat in their house?”

Krishna: “What if I do?” He raised his eyebrows, turning the face sideways.

Venka: “Mother will beat you, see.”

Surya: (prompting him) “Say, ‘Why does she beat’?”

Krishna : “Why will she beath? If she beaths, I’ll beath.”

All three laughed.

Both Venkateswararao and Suryanarayana were staying in the same rented house in Bandar. Venkateswararao was a clerk in the Collector’s Office and Suryanarayana a teacher in the High School.

Suryanarayana had no children. Krishnamurti was the only son of Venkateswararao. Both were around thirty years old, perhaps one year more or less. Suryanarayana’s wife joined him eight ­years ago. As they had no children, husband and wife lavished their affection on Krishnamurti. Meenakshi looked after every detail of Krishnamurti’s upbringing. Krishnamurti’s crying, however incessant, would stop if Suryanarayana took him in his hands. Krishnamurti used to stay during the whole day-time only in, Suryanarayana’s house.

A child born of their loins, a figure of gold, a pearly bag of baby talk, Krishnamurti was the object of excessive affection from his parents. Suryanarayana was richer than Venkateswararao. Venkateswararao had but his job to depend on. Suryanarayana had twenty-five acres of good wet land near Tenali. Meenakshi was more of a beauty than Anasooya. She was educated. Suryanarayana had higher education. He was a B. A., L. T., preparing for M.A. Venkateswararao passed the School Final Examination. Meenakshi and Suryanarayana had no issue. Looking at Krishnamurti, they felt that he was their own child. One didn’t know what reminiscence of past life it was! Meenakshi and Suryanarayana made the child lie down between them and speak, and laughed. They felt delighted. They smothered him with their kisses till he was out of breath. If Anasooya came for her son, Meenakshi got up to hand over the boy to the mother.

Krishnamurti completed three years. There was no child after him and so he was still a suckling.

For the New Year, Suryanarayana got a gold watch chain of three sovereigns made for Krishnamurti. Meenakshi covered the boy with a woollen scarf. On the festival day Meenakshi dressed the boy as ‘Krishnamurti’. With peacock feathers on the head, long black mark on the forehead and scent, he was taken to the bazaar by Suryanarayana. He was the cynosure of all eyes. By the time they returned home, he was affected by the evil eye. The boy was laid up for two days.

Meenakshi and Suryanarayana felt quite pained. Krishnamurti was unmindful of his parents. Things bought for Krishnamurti by Suryanarayana totalled up to more than two hundred rupees. Anasooya and Venkateswararao couldn’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. They too liked their child being petted so much by others.

Summer set in. Although hot winds whirled round during day, it cooled down by evening because of closeness to sea coast.

Krishnamurti had applications of sandal paste and scented water, jasmine garlands and mango-juice drinks. With a coat of sandal paste and with jasmines on the bed, he was made to rest, and Meenakshi fanned him.

Even if she just went in when the cat was removing the lids of utensils inside the house, Krishnamurti would go out into sun. She would return, search for him and resume the service.

One day in the evening the child was playing in the yard under the cocoanut tree. A she-buffalo came from somewhere and was about to trample. Anasooya did not get up at all. Meenakshi rushed in anxiety and briskly held the boy in her arms. He crackled in laughter.

Anasooya said, “Don’t worry, sister”, and added, “Sister! If a son is born to you, will you have so much love for our boy?”

Meenakshi : “Do I need the Birth of children! Why not give away Krishnamurti to me! (to Krishnamurti) Dear, will you stay with me, or go to your mother?”

Krishna: “I’ll sthaywith you only.”

Suryanarayana got his summer vacation. His native place was a village in the Gudivada taluk. There he owned a cocoanut grove and a mango grove. It was cool there. He usually spent his summer holidays there. Holidays were declared on Friday. They wanted stay on Saturday and Sunday, and start on Monday. Both Husband and wife could not part from the boy. Thinking that they could start the next day or the day after, they spent a week. Venkateswararao had, after all, his job, which was like service in Hell. This and service in the Post Office. He had no leave even if he desired to go to his place.

Meenakshi said that they would take the boy with them. Her husband liked whether they would send him. For four days they were excercised by this thought.

At last they decided to take the boy. Though Anasooya and Venkateswararao said ‘no’ in the beginning for four or five days, they now kept quiet, unable to say anything. Not that they were willing, but that they couldn’t say anything. Meenakshi and Suryanarayana construed it as half willingness.

When the boy was asked, “Will you come with us, dear?”, he would say, “I’ll come.” When asked, “Will you stay with us?”, he would say, “I’ll sthay.”Asked any number of times! he used to say the same.

“Sister, take care of the boy,” Anasooya said this a hundred times. Venkateswararao went to the train and returned after the train left.
There was a spate of the Nandamur womenfolk to see the boy. After all, it was a village. In villages they have high respect for officers. The teacher is not held in such respect, but it is not altogether so in the case of Suryanarayana because his salary was hundred rupees.

The boy was again affected by the evil eye. The next day he had fever. It came down on the third day. The boy said, “Where is the mother?”, on that day. He forgot again. Owing to change of water and the drinking of cocoanut milk, the boy caught cold. Priest Venkayya was called in and shown the boy. He gave a pill saying that there was nothing. Muslims came from Manikonda selling mangoes. Slices of nazookbadanwere given to the boy. Cold led to further deterioration. In ten days the boy’s condition became quite serious. Meenakshi was worried. She suggested that they should return with the boy. That day was Saturday and Navami. As there was some dispute about a house-site Suryanarayana said, “We shall go tomorrow.” The next day also they couldn’t go. On Sunday the boy had high fever at night. He woke from sleep and cried, “Mother, father, where are they? Geththem.” Meenakshi pacified him saying, “Dear, we’ll go in the morning.” Husband and wife kept awake throughout the night.

The next day was Monday and Ekadasi. The boy’s condition was such that they could not take him. Suryanarayana wired to Venkateswararao. Meenakshi was wailing ceaselessly. Now she would get worried and now she would restrain her sorrow. Every now and then she spoke something to the boy and ministered unto him in ever so many ways. They didn’t allow the doctor to go home and medication was going on throughout the night. Suryanarayana was dumbfounded. He didn’t know how to bear the infamy of it. Life ebbed away from his body.

The boy died in the arms of Meenakshi at moonset. The day broke.

It was ten o’clock. Venkateswararao did not arrive by train. Meenakshi was not in her senses. Suryanarayana sat on the pail like a corpse and was looking for Venkateswararao, mistaking anyone who turned the street corner for him.

“What is the use of waiting still? Probably he will come in the evening train. The day will run out. How can we keep till then the child who died last night?”, so saying the relatives of Suryanarayana took the child away for burial. While the child was being carried away. Meenakshi followed up to the outskirts of the village, wailing loudly. She was forcibly brought .

Meenakshi and Suryanarayana had no taste of food at all for the day. On that day the heat was very severe. Hot winds blew. As the day drew to a close, Anasooya and Venkateswararao arrived.

Since morning Suryanarayana continued to sit on the pial in the same sitting posture. His face grew withered with intense agony and fear of disgrace. He looked ghoulish.

As soon as Venkateswararao appeared, Suryanarayana burst out loudly and collapsed on his . Meenakshi came wailing from inside the house and fell at the feet of Anasooya.

Who am I to describe a situation that only great poets, whoare rasasiddhas, can? Those moments were of the nature of the time of dissolution. No one thought that those four would survive. No one was equal to consoling them. Meenakshi and Suryanaryana shuddered to look Anasooya and Venkateswararao in the face.

At last Venkateswararao said, in indignation or sorrow one couldn’t say, “Why did you throw away my child without my seeing? Who are you to throw away my child? I would have taken my child in my own arms and thrown away. Ayyo, dear child!”

Venkateswararao continued, “Villain! You are Yama. Get me my child. Give me my golden darling. Give me my dear child. Give even the dead body to me. I’ll take away and bury my dear child myself. Give. Give”, and as he was going on in that strain, Suryanarayana said, with tears trickling down and a quivering voice, and arms upraised in salutation, “Dear man, I have wronged you. I’ll make amends. I’ll make amends. Forgive.”

Anasooya came wailing, closed her husband’s mouth and said, “Please be quiet. What could they do if he had no longevity?” Meenakshi and Suryanarayana wished then they were dead. Who were they after all, to reduce for themselves the span of life given by God?

The flood of grief surged forth again in Venkateswararao, “Look here, Suryanarayana! You are educated. Rich. Don’t hide my boy, give him away. Give away. Ayyo! He is a bundle of gems. I can’t see such a child again. Ayyo! child! I am unable believe that you are dead. You couldn’t have died. He is lying. Look here. Give my golden child to me. Give the dead child. I shall bury him myself. Damned fellows, they didn’t give me leave yesterday. I would probably have seen my dear child.” Crying again he continued, “Did my child pass away? Those eyes…did he pass away? Even if he is dead, I’ll see those eyes. Give my child to me.”

A lady neighbour, who was also mourning, tried to console him saying, “Dear man, what can you do with a dead child?”

Venka: “What can I do! I’ll bury him with my own hands. I’ll press him against my chest. I’ll kiss those cold lips. It is I that should bury my child. Who is he?”

Suryanarayana was moaning without a stop. One couldn’t say if Meenakshi was in her consciousness or not.

Finally, Anasooya and Venkateswararao left that night, not acceding to the suggestion that they should stay. It was twilight by the time they went near the burial ground. Two dogs were moving about there. Husband and wife sat for a while and wept. The village munsiff sent his peon for taking them to the train. Indupalli station was two miles away. Those human forms of sorrow entered the station. The train arrived.

Suryanarayana felt that he did something wrong. Meenakshi’s sorrow was beyond description. Both had neither sleep nor food. Suryanarayana stirred out after a month. He was reduced to bare bones. As a result of ceaseless weeping, Meenakshi suffered from an eye ailment. Two months passed. The eyes got worse. Holidays were over. Suryanarayana submitted his resignation from service. He cried, “With what face can I return to Bandar?” He sent Venkateswararao the jewels of the boy in an insured parcel. Venkateswararao returned the parcel. The jewels remained so in a box as if dedicated to God for a vow.

It looked as though there was hostility between Venkateswararao and suryanarayana. He feared the very mention of Venkateswararao’s name. Suryanarayana lost his cropped hair. All the white clothes and coats became loose. He had sparse hair of the size of a cow’s hoof. He started getting up at daybreak at the crowing of the cock. His ritual would go on till two in the afternoon. He called a Brahmin priest and, paying fifteen rupees a month, learnt Namaka, Chamaka, Srisukta, purushasukta and a few passages from the Veda. How did Meenakshi and Suryanarayana, who were Ratiand Manmadha, look now? Meenakshi lost her charm. Suryanarayana lost his spirit. Their earlier health was gone.

Time raced by. Two years passed. Venkateswararao had a daughter. The smouldering grief of the parents cooled down in the childish sports of the girl.

Three years passed by. There was a severe cyclone. The mango grove and cocoanut grove of Suryanarayana were damaged owing to poor irrigation, there was not much of a harvest in the groves. The ryots who were tenants of Suryanarayana’s lands didn’t give him the agreed ‘paddy-rent’ properly, nor would they leave, so that others could be fixed. Thus they were creating all the troubles to which rich ryots subjected land-owning Brahmins. For many other reasons also, Suryanarayana felt that he had better seek service again. As it was a place where they had earlier stayed, he sent an application to the school in Bandar. A job in the college was offered. He came with his wife. He stayed somewhere in the town. One evening Venkateswararao and Suryanarayana happened to meet in the bazaar. Suryanarayana bent his face down. Venkateswararao accosted him and, after speaking something, said, “come some time and see my daughter.” He asked, “Has sister-in-law come?” That night Venkateswararao told his wife that he had met Suryanarayana, and said, “It seems he is again teaching in the town. He is staying in that locality. He has come along with Meenakshamma garu.”

Anasooya was desirous of seeing Meenakshi. She found out where they were put up and went to see them after four days. Both were somewhat in tears. They spoke amicably enough to each other.

It was known from the conversation that Meenakshi was in the fifth month pregnancy.

While going Anasooya said, “In our second portion some Tamilians are staying. There is no communication, no fun. It is all very unconventional. It seems they are transferred and will go. You please come and stay there, sister!”

Meenakshi was taken to her parents’ home. Suryanarayana stayed in a hotel for six or seven months. Venkateswararao celebrated the birthday of his daughter and invited Suryanarayana for food. He went. All through the meal, he was, poor man, sitting with his head bent down. They became friends again. Anasooya and Venkateswararao thought, “The dead boy is anyway dead. Why unnecessary animosities? After all, did they deliberately kill him? Poor things, they treated him with so much love. Really speaking, he was their child. Not at all our child.”

Suryanarayana had fever. Proper diet and care were not possible in the hotel. Venkateswararao brought him home by force. He stopped for four days.

The confinement was over. Meenakshi had to be brought . They left their earlier house. Another could not be fixed anywhere. At last when Venkateswararao forced them, they decided to stay in the second portion of Venkateswararao’s house.

It was a baby boy for Meenakshi. He resembled Krishnamurti completely. Meenakshi thought so within herself. She did not say it out. Meenakshi and Suryanarayana came along with their boy to be tenants in that house. One year passed by. Two years passed by.

Everyone thought that Krishnamurti was born again as that boy. None, however, said it at any time.

Suryanarayana’s father’s name was Krishnavadhanulu. The boy was christened by the same name.

Neither Meenakshi nor Suryanarayana cared very much for their boy. It was as though he was growing in the air. One day the boy was about to slip from the pial. Meenakshi sat unmoved. Anasooya took care of him.

Ana: “Why, dear lady, did you not hold the boy?”

Meena : “I don’t know! Will he live if we hold him! He lives if he has longevity.

Meenakshi’s mind was inclined this way not only in this matter, but in all other matters.

The boy completed three years and entered fourth year. Meenakshi had no idea of celebrating the birthday of the boy. She anointed his head and bathed him because of the pressure of Anasooya.

The rainy season set in. There were uninterrupted rains for four days. There is always the threat of a cyclone at Bandar. The roar of the sea is heard during night time.

Krishnavadhanulu was indisposed for two days. He had cold. The body was slightly warm. Meenakshi kept quiet.

Anasooya: “Why do you keep quiet without showing the boy to a doctor?”

Meenakshi: “Why call in a doctor if there is some slight cold?”

Venkateswararao brought a doctor the next day and showed the boy. The doctor gave some medicine and went away.

The nest day Meenakshi had fever. Suryanarayana too got fever. They were somehow going about unmindfully. Anasooya alone had to look after the boy. The illness of the boy became serious. His breathing was hard because of phlegm. The boy passed away in the night.

Meenakshi and Suryanarayana were unable to move.

No one could be found for burying the boy. It was finally unavoidable for Venkateswararao. Neither Meenakshi nor Suryanarayana appeared to have much grief. They expressed a little pity as though the boy of some others died. It was Anasooya that took full charge of the boy while they were suffering from fever. Poor thing, she wept.

When Venkateswararao was carrying the boy away, Meenakshi burst into weeping. Suryanarayana also burst into weeping.

Surya: (Weeping a little) “Dear man, probably his debt is repaid. He hardlysaw three years.” Justthen Suryanarayana’s eyes glittered. Some thought entered his mind. Standing up and with emotion he said, “Venkateswararao! Take, my dear man! Throw away with your own hands! Press the boy hard to your chest! Hod him tight, lest he should slip away! Did I hide your boy? Here you are! This is that! I’ve given your boy to you. Dear man! Your will. I don’t know what you will do. I am quits with you!” He went on saying something. Venkateswararao took the boy away solemnly.

A year passed by. Meenakshi was like a girl of sixteen years. Her lost charm and health returned to her.

Suryanarayana died even at the age of forty-five. He didn’t have issue again.