Rai Vishnu All is Well if the End is Well!
SHE is again late today. It’s ten o’clock at night. The whole world is sleeping. It’s only him who is awake –even after the day’s hard work sleep is miles away from his eyes. Where is SHE? What’s SHE doing at this moment? Images of his wife keep appearing in his mind’s eyes. HE looks at the wall clock time and again and becomes conscious of his ten year old daughter, Radha who looks at him every time when HE looks at the wall clock or gets up to go to the loo. Her eyes pierce his soul whenever she looks at him. She never says anything just looks at him with her large, black eyes and HE feels worse. Her eyes are just like those of her mother –large and black, the difference is in their look. The mother’s eyes are never static: they seem to be always dancing and inviting, full of life and mischief. Radha’s eyes, on the other hand, have a sad look –sort of lifeless in comparison to her mother’s.
It started happening, this SHE being late, when HE came back from Saudi Arabia where HE went to try his luck for which HE sold his ancestral land. His luck didn’t favour him. HE couldn’t earn much because HE fell ill partly because of the extremely hot climate of the gulf, and partly because of food. When HE came back after five years, HE had saved a meagre sum of 200,000 rupees. In the beginning, SHE was very happy to have him back. They started a little shop with the money, and it was then, after opening of the shop, SHE began to change.
In the beginning the shop didn’t sell much. But customers increased when SHE started entertaining them. Over a couple of months the shop grew big, and within a year it became one of the biggest shops of that little market. Gradually, SHE got the control of the whole shop –the things which should be in the shop, dealing with the customers, and going to the town to get the goods for the shop. His only work was to hand over the goods in packets to the customer, and give money to his wife. SHE was very good in dealing with the customers. SHE always smiled and was careful with the rich and the influential customers. SHE instantly became everybody’s bhauju, and that too helped grow her trade.
There were many good people who helped her. The first among them was the hawaldar sab of the local police post. He suggested her to get the license for the shop particularly to sell alcohol so that she won’t have to pay the sale tax officer who occasionally dropped at her shop and threatened her. The hawaldar sab knew important people in the district headquarter and was ready to help her by taking her to the town and to get the license. SHE asked for his permission to go to the town which HE gave as HE thought it was good for his family. That was the first and the last time when SHE asked if SHE could go to the town with hawaldar sab to get the license or to go with somebody else for some other business. SHE did not return the same day from the town. When SHE returned next day, HE noticed the change in her that SHE didn’t look at his face when SHE replied his questions.
“Did you get the license?”
“Yes.”
“Was there any problem? I’m sure hawaldar sab must have been very helpful?”
“No, there was no problem,” SHE said after a long pause. SHE didn’t say if hawaldar sab helped her or not.
“Why did you stay overnight there? And where did you stay?”
“If you don’t trust me, you should go by yourself,” her outburst surprised him. “Where did you stay?,” she mimicked him. “Why didn’t you go by yourself?”
Next time, she went to the town alone but she didn’t have to pay the bus fare because the guruji, the bus driver offered her a free ride.
“bhauju! I eat and buy drinks at your shop. You don’t recognize me because I’m a poor bus driver. But I would like to help you if I can. Let me serve you. Don’t make me feel like a sinner by paying the bus fare. This bus is also yours. I’ll take you to the town only if you don’t pay the bus fare.”
Since then whenever SHE travelled to the town, SHE didn’t have to pay. It made life much easier. Loading goods on a bus in the town and then take it right to your doorstep was not a joke, you know. And since then guruji spent an hour or so in her shop whenever he liked.
Now SHE doesn’t travel by the guruji’s bus except once a month or so very much against the guruji’s will. SHE doesn’t have to. Now, the son of the sahuji from whose shop in the town, SHE takes goods on credit visits her shop on his motorbike once a month and supplies the goods on a TATA automobile. SHE goes to the town on her motorbike. SHE sits in the back and holds the biker with both her hands tightly so that there is no space – for fear of falling down. HE has observed this scene a couple of times through the window but hasn’t raised this issue with his wife.
Slowly neighbours started whispering, and people began talking about her HE tried not to pay much attention to what they said but you cannot close your ears when people talk just next to you. one day when HE was passing through the street, HE heard Nil Bahadur and Kumar, the two shopkeepers talking together or rather they let him heard what they talked.
“I’m thinking of selling my shop and go away. Not even a single customer.” It was Nil Bahadur.
“If you want to increase the number of customers, ask your wife to sit in the shop. The number of customer will increase instantly.” Kumar was heard.
“No dai! I don’t have a beautiful wife who could sit in the shop.”
“It’s the age of Kali- in the past, people preferred to die for their honor now they sell their honor and prestige for a few coins,” Kumar’s words were like sharp arrows.
HE increased his pace but his cheeks were burning. HE stopped going anywhere unless it was terribly important. Whole day, HE would sit in his shop, but even in the shop, people made fun of him with their witty remarks. One would say to him, “Dai! You are alone in the shop? Where is bhauju?” Another would chip in, “Are yaar! You think bhauju has got time to sit in the shop. She has to attend business matters in the town with the hawaldar sab. Business is growing, isn’t dai?” And they would throw a meaningful look at him with a sneer.
One night, when they were together, HE said to her, “People talk bad things about you.”
“They don’t have to do anything else.” SHE dismissed his saying instantly.
“I just wondered if there were any truth in what they say.”
“They are jealous of our progress. We have a good shop and a good house. Who has achieved this much what we have in a couple of years?” SHE said proudly. “They are dying of envy because hawaldar sab, the guruji and the sahuji help us.”
“You should think of our daughter. She is not a child now.” HE said timidly.
“What do you mean? So you believe these nosy neighbours, not me. You have no faith in your wife, ay? What didn’t I do for you and the family? It’s because of me that we have a shop and a house. And you suspect me?” This silenced him.
Next day, Radha asked him, “Papa! Can’t we leave this place and settle somewhere else? I don’t like this place. Let’s go to some other place.” He couldn’t look at her eyes. He couldn’t say anything either. From that day, Radha doesn’t say anything; she just looks at her with her imploring eyes that pierce his soul.
Every time SHE went with someone, HE justified it. SHE went with the hawaldar sab because the license was a must and it was only him who could help to get it. Also because he was a hawaldar and who does not know the police power? So going with the hawaldar was OK.
It was also OK that SHE went a couple of times in the bus of that guruji without paying the fare. It saved a considerable amount of money and time. The guruji also offered him a free ride but HE firmly rejected it. SHE no longer travels in the bus, and that’s that.
HE didn’t like her to go to the town on the back of the motorbike of that son of the sahuji. But HE closed his eyes because sahuji was a very rich person, who could create a lot of trouble for him. The fact that 70% of the goods in his shop were on credit –no one but only the sahuji could give him on credit- made him seal his lips and close his eyes.
But what happened today made him extremely upset and angry. He is not going to tolerate this. It’s something that stirred the man in him. Early in the morning, the hawaldar came to his shop and over a cup of tea talked with his wife. They whispered for some ten minutes in the inner part of the shop. When HE came inside, the hawaldar grinned and said:
“Dajyu! I just came for a cup of tea. I’m going to the town and bhaujyu said that she’s also going. So we’re leaving soon.”
SHE didn’t say anything. SHE had stopped asking or informing him about her errands. HE was leaving, when Radha came to ask her mother about what she would cook for the meal. The hawaldar eyed her and said:
“She is quite a young lady now bhauju! Hey, she is more beautiful than you. How pretty!” He said and at the same time patted her cheeks. Radha was embarrassed and left immediately. The hawaldar looked at her and both of them laughed. HE didn’t like it at all -his praise of Radha, his patting of her cheeks, his meaningful look and their laughter. But He didn’t say anything at the time.
Now it’s twelve o’clock and SHE is not back yet. HE doesn’t look at his daughter for fear of facing her eyes. Soft footsteps and then knocks at the door are heard. HE doesn’t open the door. Louder knocking but He doesn’t respond. Then words are heard.
“Radha’s Papa! Open the door. It’s me.”
“Radha’s Papa! Wake up! Open the door!” Then after a few minutes:
“Open the door please!” and after a pause, “I’ll not go to the town again without asking you.” After a longer pause, “I’ll never be late again.” Yet HE doesn’t make any move, just listens to her.
“Open the door! What do you think you are doing? I say open the door. I will complain to the hawaldar sab if you don’t open the door.”
He doesn’t stir. An hour passes, then, soft crying is heard. After a few minutes, HE gets up and opens the door. SHE is sitting at the door sobbing –her head down on her knees.
“What are you doing here? Why don’t you go to your hawaldar sab? Leave my house. You are free to go anywhere you like.” HE says sternly.
SHE gets up and holds his hands. HE pulls his hands free and says, “Don’t you show me your triya charitra. I have had enough. I say go wherever you want and whoever with you wish to. I have no place for you here.”
“Radha’s Papa! Please forgive me. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” SHE holds desperately on the hem of his shirt.
HE holds her slender neck with both his hands, “I will strangle you right here. You don’t know me.” She chokes.
“Yes, kill me.” After more choking and sobbing, “Kill me Radha’s Papa, kill me. Kill me!”
“You will never entertain the hawaldar?”
“No, never.” Sobbing.
“Never travel on the bus of guruji?”
“No, I swear.” More sobbing.
“Never ride the bike?
“No, please! Radha’s Papa, please!”
X X X
SHE feels as if for the first time SHE is in the arms of her husband, the man whom SHE loved ten years ago. She feels the same goose pimples on her skin and same kind of heart beating that she had felt ten years ago on her honeymoon night. The same waves of emotions mingled with the vibrations in every parts of her body as their bodies entangle together.
“Oh! Radha’s Papa!” SHE moans softly, “Kill me…”
