Oldman and Those Crones

OLD MAN AND THOSE CRONIES

“Babi!...Babi! Rey abbai, abbai ...Sudhakar! Sudha!”

The Old man was tired. However loud he called or with whatever name, there was no response, either from upstairs or down. He was thirsty. His tongue had become hard as a brick and as dry. He had no energy left to call any further.

He made a bid to turn right on his . No use, it was useless. He was like a rag wrung dry. He broke into sweat and then felt thirsty again. Without his knowing his eyelids must have drooped. After some time; as though he had regained a little of his strength, he opened his eyes.

“O Sudha! Where are you? What are you doing?”

The call perhaps did not reach. Perhaps it was not heard.

His eyes closed once again.

The wetness in the bed woke him again. It was all foul smell, stench – flies and all. He made a desperate attempt to get up with no success. Was he going into some kind of unconsciousness?

“Sekharam! Sekharam!”

Someone was at the door calling out his name: Perhaps it was kept open for someone expected. The caller pushed it gently and walked in.

“Sekharam!” Perhaps the stench coming from the far end drew his attention to the cot by the wall.

“Rey, Sekhi!” the old man patted the sick man to wake up.

“Ah!” The old man came to and looked up. Was it morning or evening or night? He looked up. The tube light was there but it was not clicked on.

“Sekharam! I am your friend Ramam. Don’t you recognise me?”

“You! You are my friend Ramamgadu!” The old man made to get up. But he had lost the use of his limbs long ago.

“How is that you are in this state? Whatever happened to your...Isn’t there anyone in the house? Where are your children?”

“Children! Oh, children! Yes, the younger one is upstairs. Go there and see for yourself.”

Ramanatnam who had been Ramam for Sekharam couldn’t stand there clucking his tongue or just doing nothing. But could this house be so empty and forlorn!

Upstairs one after another all the rooms were empty. The doors of the big hall were just half-open. He softly opened them wide and went in.

The game of cards was in full swing. None appeared to have noticed someone getting in. He had a full minute to take in the whole scene.

“Sudhakar! Here’s somebody...”

“Young man! I’m glad I could make it.

Been searching for the place. Deal me too. Where does the round begin? What’s the stake? The man settled between the two in a little space.

“No sir, the game’s drawing to a close. We are going to call it a day!’

One among the six had a little presence of mind. Or, was it a sense of shame or guilt?

“What! How could you say it to me who has come a long way to ... Well, my dear friends! After all, eating is not the only thing and we needn’t even forego lunch? After all they send us some eats here too. Just two more rounds if you don’t want to disappoint me altogether.”

“Excuse me, sir? But who are you?”

“Does that really matter? All are equal before the bottle and cards. My dear friend, it’s your chance now!” He nudged the man with his elbow gently.

Sudhakar had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whoever could this old man be?

“You must really forgive me, you are a revered old man ...”

“My foot! Where’s the question of reverence? Some months ago I fell: it was slight paralysis. But then I have the ability of a man in his thirties!”

“Aren’t you my father’s friend?”

“Oh, you remember then. Frankly, I must appreciate your memory. Your father and I, just like you all here, used to be very happy in those days. We had been friends for ages: ever since we were in the first standard. We went to school together and later, to college. While we were thus engaged, my father croaked. But then it was quite expected. He had been in bed immobile, a vegetable, for nearly three whole years. There was nothing any one of us could have done. Was it for us to hold to the flying life force? Those going can’t be really stopped: no matter what we did or didn’t do. That’s the law of life. Isn’t it? Those alive have to go on with the routines. Would it be for us to starve ourselves, no matter how close we are to them and how affectionate those departing are to us? Go ahead with your dealing! You haven’t told me of the stake at all. I got the pension yesterday. I have eight hundred in my purse. I never play beyond my ability. After all, I am an old timer, you see! If your bank is eighty, I’m game.”

“Show! It was just a single card show, even at deal. Not even that, just a touch dick!” the young man declared.

“My dear young man! This is a card game. They brought me word that my father was dead. My game was just a matter of a ‘touch’. How could I leave at that stage! In our days we used to ask why children should be grateful to parents. In my view there’s no reason why we should. That’s all, I didn’t get up till the game came to a close and everyone had left. What’s the point in seeing a dead body? I was philosophical even in my very young days, and that was it. But mother was wild with anger. She never looked at me and never talked to me ever since. But how does it matter? We the young have our own stubbornness!” He went on playing as briskly as ever.

“Sudhakar! Permit to leave now. I promised to get my wife an injection!” He got up and left.

“Isn’t he Sekharam’s son. This is his son, Sudhakar.” One got up and showing him left.

“Now we are five. We can play with two decks. Remove one ... Just two more rounds!

The veteran tried to come a little forward when the circle became small.

“Sudhakar, I am not well, let me go.” Another left.

“Well boys! I came from so far and you are leaving one after another. It is not good card-table manners, specially so, when a new member joins the group. Sudhakar! You tell then! His father and I have been friends of long standing. We spent lakhs together. We broke the hearts of at least two women. But poor fellow, your father! He doesn’t seem to be in a position to sit up. But I am happy: if not with him I am able to sit with his son! I told him so. Don’t bother, deal for the four of us!”

“Who are you, if I may know?’ Another asked getting up to leave.

“You too? In a game of cards who’s who and who’s what are irrelevant questions. If it’s a matter of matrimony they are necessary. But here, certainly not. Not that they should not be asked”.

As if the man were dismissed and so out of his mind, the old man made to begin dealing.

Without a word left another.
Only Sekharam’s son was left.

“This is a wonderful opportunity. We can still play hand to hand!” The old man sounded jubilant. “Please send somebody and get me a packet of cigarettes: Berkley’s my brand.”

“Excuse me, sir! You are ...”
“All right then, I’ll tell you though it isn’t much. Your father has always called me Ramam though for everyone outside I was Ramanadham. I am a ‘useless old man’ for my daughter-in-law and for my wife, poor thing! Why all that now? She’d gone two years ago. Whatever I did and how badly I had hurt her. I’d been her husband. I had been the very devil: but she never protested. She spent herself serving the family and me till she breathed her last. As for my children: they are my children. Right from our childhood your father and I shared the same principles, lived the same kind of carefree life. It had been an article of faith with us that we shouldn’t stand grateful to parents. They didn’t bring us forth with our express permission or at our request. My father died far away from my eyes. I had done nothing for them. Why should I, indeed? Now the next step. When I did nothing for them, I shouldn’t expect my children to do me any service. They need not be indebted to me in any way. They have their own lives to live in the way they chose to. When I wasn’t there to light my father’s pyre, how could I expect that service from my son? The daughter-in-­law told me so much in her flowery language. Though young, the woman’s really a genius. I am proud of her and so is her husband too. She should have gone into the judiciary with her impeccable wisdom and sense of fair play. We gave top priority to the right kind of family. I have no right to complain. My mother used to tell me it was like frying a pancake: you have to fry it both sides. So too, things happen to you. As you do unto others, others do unto to you - hence the pancake trope. But I thought I never would care. With me very much around, when someone else cremated my mother, why should my daughter-in-law look after me? Why do you appear a little shocked as if you discovered that your hand has fourteen cards? Let those who don’t like your ways, hang themselves! We’ll go all the way and complete the game” The old man dealt the cards. But Sudhakar got up.

“Look, my dear young chap! Two years ago I had a paralytic stroke. It is something, which would happen to any card player though it is a matter oftime. But my friend Subbarao appeared like a lightning - like a god that come on wire-work, deus ex machina - ‘ou fool! When your children do not care for you, when they hate you and when you are thus stricken, what’s the point remaining here? I’d rather put you in hell!’ He admitted me in the hospital. Before I was put in the car, I cast a look at my son’s face and then at daughter-in-law’s. They shone with joy. They were happy that I could be removed to the final destiny right from there. They knew that sometimes, when at death if the stars were inauspicious, the house had to be vacated. They have a lot of foresight.”

The old man showed his hand affected by paralysis.

“Sir!” - Sudhakar felt a little dizzy and his eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Well young man, I am telling you the truth. I was all praise for my son who inherited my ideology and belief. He thought this old fellow wouldn’t stay alive beyond a week. But then, haven’t you heard the adage paapi chiraayoo? That scoundrel Subbarao did not allow me to die in peace. He told the nursing staff and his medical colleagues that I was his first cousin and I had none to fend for me at home. The staff took it as an order. He was the Superintendent of the hospital. They sent me out as an absolutely healthy man.”

“Sudha! O, Sudha!” the old man was calling once again. Now it is easy to hear his call: there aren’t any people or any thing to distract.

“Forgive me, Ramam babai” The young man’s voice trembled.

“No, no. Don’t be upset. My son too was shocked to see me at home where I stayed only for a day to collect my things. He did not know that I had not died in the hospital. I don’t know when he realised I am alive. Subbarao made me swear that I wouldn’t reveal to my son that he had left on a transfer to a distant place. The vow reminds me of something else too. At your age I swore to Meenakshi, the girl living opposite our house, the lawyer’s daughter, that I’d marry her. Poor girl, she never knew that the oaths we take could at times be set aside. I stayed away from the two sons of mine but somehow they could trace me and came running to ask my forgiveness. Then I assured them that they could take all my property on condition that they agreed to let me take with me my clothes and personal belongings ... They must be fine now and their children must be growing too to turn the pancake on the pan...Why don’t you follow my advice and send this old rogue to some hospital so that you’d be rid of his bother? There at least once in a while a sister would come and clean the mess...Sorry, I forgot to ask you...How many children do you have?”

“Two.”

“Wonderful! You needn’t bother for another thirty years. There’s no knowing whether they’d walk out of the house leaving you here or put you to a hospital to enable you to learn things your own way. Anyway my sons are happy that Subbarao would never allow my going to them. That medical man, even today, has two men shadowing me as they had been all along these years.”

Sudhakar was confused beyond measure. Was it a dream, or was it a joke? Was it serious or just comic?

To compound the confusion the old man got down the stairs dragging one of his feet.

By the time Sudhakar recovered and came down there was a taxi and Sudhakar’s immobile father was being put into it.

“Babu, babu! I do not know who you are! I am just a woman who’s always been held under autocratic control ... On his behalf, I ask for your forgiveness! Please forgive us!” The daughter-in-law of the house was wiping her tears, on her sari end.

“My dear young woman, this fellow is still alive and, god willing, would live for some more years. Don’t shed any tears ... It takes some more time for both of us to take leave of you all here and everywhere else. Why did you come out? I can only tell you one thing by way of a bit of advice. You are a woman. Pancakes on the pan have to turn the other way also.”

The car was about to pull out.

“Forgive us, Ramam babai!” Sudhakar was about to say something.

“What is all this?” Sekharam came to his senses.

“Father, Ramam babai brought me to my senses. His friend saved him and he in his turn saved you. He wants to set things right. Babai, you are godly, forgive me! Let me come to the hospital! It would be impossible for me to bear the shame!” Sudhakar began to sob.

“You fool!” The man told his son from the car in a feeble voice. “This fellow is my boyhood friend. He is known over the entire district as Doctor Ramanatham, the faithful and loyal son! He cremated his father and mother with his own hands in a difference of two years only six years ago.”

“You fool! I have been all the while trying to convince your son that I’m a gambler. You please shut up.” He whispered to the ailing man.

Turning to the young man the visiting old friend said “My dear young man! I too love playing cards, even now. Don’t listen to your father. One of these days we can have another long session at which I’d like the company of all your cronies. We can play hand to hand too if they don’t show up.”

Sudhakar turned pale. He couldn’t look at his father. He didn’t dare looking up into the eyes of the old man either.