His was not the first Indian company to be listed. Several other companies had been listed and were also doing well.
Shrikant took every challenge as an opportunity. He felt the stronger the hurricane, the greater the challenge. Shrikant believed challenges meant opportunities for growing. It was pointless worrying, action had to be taken.
He called up Priya and told her to cancel all his appointments, however important, and informed her to book a ticket for Delhi that night and to the US after a couple of days.
When he reached home, his head was heavy. He told his driver Maruthi that he would be ready in an hour’s time and asked him to stay back to drop him at the airport.
He knew that Shrimati’s driver would have left by then. Without even looking for Shrimati, he went to his study and picking up some papers, called out to her, ‘Shrimati, I may be off to the US for two to three weeks. Kindly pack my bag. I think our friend Vasudev Shenoy and his wife are coming from Delhi on a personal visit. They are our guests. Let them stay here, not in the company’s guest house. Please look after them and organize all their trips at our expense. He is an extremely useful person to us.
‘Please pack an extra pair of specs and boots for me.
‘I was supposed to go to Hubli for a day next month. But now, I will not be able to do so. Inform my mother about this change of plan. By the way, she has asked for some gold item. If possible, arrange for it or send the money for it.’ Shrikant gave all these instructions without once looking up from his papers.
Maruthi, who had followed him into the study with his briefcase, was surprised to hear him talk like this to memsaab. He thought Shrikant’s behaviour resembled his drunkard father Tukaram’s. They were in their own nasha, without being bothered about others. Under intoxication, they behave like that. Look at our saab, Maruthi thought. He doesn’t drink. But he behaves like he does. Maruthi thought of his young wife Tulasi. He had promised her that he would take her for a movie that night. But by the time he dropped his boss at the airport and returned, all the theatres would be closed. Tulasi would be upset, but also happy with his overtime allowance. Maruthi went downstairs.
Shrimati did not move an inch. Shrikant looked at her and said, ‘Shrimati, hurry up. Serve my dinner quickly. I cannot eat on the plane, you know. I forgot to tell you! Pack two of my suits as well.’
‘Shri, where are you going?’
‘Didn’t you hear me? I am going to the US, I said.’
‘But Shri . . .’
‘Please don’t waste time. I am getting late.’
‘I cannot do your work. I will get bored being alone for three weeks. You had promised that you would take leave for three days next month. And those three days you would not take up any official work. Because of that I booked our tickets to Ladakh.’
‘Cancel them. I don’t even have time to talk about it now. I have tremendous pressure from office.’
‘Please, Shri, can’t you postpone your tour at least this time, for my sake?’
She knew Shrikant would not do it. It had never happened before. But still she wanted to put her demand forward, to let him know that she did not want to be the lowest priority any more. Shrikant realized that Shrimati was not going to do anything for him. He himself went to the wardrobe and started taking out his clothes.
‘Shrimati, don’t be irrational. Tell Priya to send you my itinerary tomorrow. Pack in some aspirin and sulphur tablets. I have to leave in the next half hour.’
Shrimati was standing as still as a rock. But inside her mind, she was exploding like a volcano. She had been so happy that Shrikant had at last agreed to spend three days with her. She was looking forward to the trip with much eagerness. Now, she felt like a tired traveller in a desert, looking for an oasis. Her heart didn’t want to accept that Shrikant did not care for her. But by his behaviour today she knew she was right. Shrikant was only living for himself and his ambitions. He was using her as a personal secretary at home. At least for his official secretary there were timings, but for her it was an all-time job. Her anger was increasing by leaps and bounds, superceding reason.
‘Shri, you cannot go anywhere today. You always think of yourself. You are so selfish that you think only of your position, your company and your mother. You never think of me as a human being or what hurts me and what makes me happy! You treat me like a machine.
‘You give appointments to everybody but you don’t have any time for me. Don’t I deserve one? Don’t you have any duty towards me? You spend all day occupied by your company, physically and mentally. What is left for me? You give me false assurances every time and I believe you. I am neither a bank nor a post office to send money to your mother. She is related to me through you. When you do not care about me, why should I care about her? Shri, tell me now. Who is important, your wife or your profession? Ask your heart and tell me.
‘I am aware that the value of a person is known only during a critical time. The time has come now and you have to decide today, now and at this very moment.’
Shrimati was overcome with emotion. She caught hold of his shirt and snatched the suitcase. The suitcase fell open and all the things scattered to the ground. Shrikant was struggling to control his rising temper.
‘Shrimati, I cannot answer such a nonsensical question. I don’t want to travel at my own will but the work demands it. It is your duty to support a husband like me. Now, you are emotional and being silly. Not only are you wasting your time but you are wasting my precious time too. I have many things to do. I am already late. Please let me go.’
Helpless and disappointed, Shrimati started sobbing. She didn’t want him to be happy when she was so unhappy in this marriage. She wanted the heat of her unhappiness to touch him too.
‘Shri, if you consider that your time is more valuable than mine, if your work is more important than my inner happiness, I will allow you to go. You do your duties to your company because you are paid and given a status. What about my work? And what is my role in this marriage? Just think it over, whether you have discharged any responsibilities as a husband. Has your mother performed her duties as the head of the family? You decide one way or the other. You have an obligation to your wife. If you do not fulfil it, I will not stay in this house.’ Shrimati was holding his hand firmly.
This was the first time that Shrimati had talked so openly about Gangakka and in relation with Shrikant’s work. There was no logic. Both were entirely different issues. He was surprised by her behaviour. His watch showed that he was getting late and he would miss his flight. He could not afford to spend one day quarrelling with his wife. He forcefully freed himself and said, ‘Shrimati, think whatever you want. I have told you my opinion. I am not going for my own pleasure or for extra money. Neither am I cheating on you. Shrimati, the whole world says that you are more intelligent than me. You think over it and whatever you feel is right, go ahead and do it. I am leaving now.’
Listening to Shrikant, Shrimati felt as if she had touched a live wire and stood dumbstruck. Shrikant did not eat his dinner. He took his bag and left.
Now Shrimati did not care what others would say. She ran to the balcony and shouted, ‘I won’t be in town for a month. I won’t look after your guests.’
Though Shrikant heard it he didn’t respond and just told Maruthi to drive to the domestic airport. He knew very well that she would be at home, do all the work, because duty had become her habit. She would do whatever he asked her to.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Shrimati looked at the sea with sorrow and bewilderment. The grief that was in her heart was as deep as the ocean. Despite her arguments and her tears he had not listened to her. She sat on a chair and felt as if all her energy had drained out. What had she achieved in her life, she asked herself. She had done everything for Shrikant but he had not noticed her sincerity; he did not value her sacrifices for him.
He had told her that his time was very valuable.
Yes, he would definitely grow in stature and rise to
a more prominent position over a period of time. But what about her? She had to live like his shadow all the time. She wouldn’t have any identity of her own. Her life would be that of a planet which shines with reflected light, rather than that of a star which radiates its own light.
She also remembered the way he had sneered at her, The whole world says that you are more intelligent than me. You think over it and whatever you feel is right, go ahead and do it.
Indeed, what had she really achieved in life? Nothing. A big zero. If they had children, things might have been a bit better. Even if Shrikant spent all his time in office, she could spend her time with the children. But Shrikant had rejected the idea of adoption too. Maybe even if they had children, Shrikant would have sent them to a boarding school like Harish had done. One could never know how Shrikant’s mind would work. She thought about her life ten years hence, and shivered. She had always disliked being dependent on anyone.
Living like this was worse than death to her.
Shrimati tried to analyse her feelings. What could make her happy? Her husband’s love, and history. Since her husband had made his feelings clear, only history remained. She thought of her college days. Not for a single day was she unhappy. In spite of getting all those gold medals, being offered a scholarship by Professor Collins and the opportunity to go and study abroad, she had rejected them all because she was madly in love with Shrikant. She had voluntarily closed all her career paths. She now felt that her greatest shortcoming was that she was not ambitious. Had she been so, perhaps today she would have become a leading historian of the country . . .
Her mother Kamala’s words sprang up in her mind. When the topic of marriage was raised, her mother had said to her that her in-laws would never love her and Shrikant would never treat her better than his people. Is it not true that blood is thicker than water? Shrikant’s love had evaporated like water from a cup. Now the cup was empty, and so was her heart. How true had been her mother’s prediction!
Shrimati remembered telling Shrikant a few times that his mother always bought the cheapest of gifts for her, but for Rama she would buy things worth thousands! And Shrikant had laughed and said, ‘You have more than enough, Shrimati, why should my poor mother give you any gift!’
Shrikant would never understand that a gift is not measured by its price, rather by the feelings behind it. When Gangakka would give her anything, she would purposely keep the price tag on and in front of outsiders she would say, ‘Anyway, she is childless and my son is a pot of gold to her. He listens to everything she says and asks for . . .’
Only Shrimati knew how shrewd Shrikant was and how he made people think that he was a joru ka ghulaam, a slave of his wife. It was always his decision that prevailed over hers. Why blame others if they believed it? When her husband did not care for her, why would anybody else?
Shrikant’s words kept going round and round in Shrimati’s head. You think over it and whatever you feel is right, go ahead and do it.
Shrikant had never used such words before. She had always thought that Shrikant was proud of her intelligence. So why had he talked like that? Was it to hurt her? If that was so, then why should she remain here? A house is made up of just four walls but a home is where there is love, affection and a meaningful relationship. When that was not there it was only a house, and the best thing was to get out of it. But where could she go? She could not go back to Hubli and make her mother unhappy. The only way for her was to go somewhere she would feel comfortable.
Shrimati had always enjoyed the academic atmosphere and the company of teachers in the University. The only option left was to become a student once again.
Even today, Indian history was at her fingertips. All the facts, dates, events were fresh in her mind. When she read any book on history her concentration was as good as Shrikant’s was in computers. She remembered Professor Collins and his last visit. Probably he had made his offer to her because he had sensed her futile existence. Shrimati got up, took a pen and started writing to Professor Collins. She did not mention a word about her personal problems. She stated how studying history had always made her happy . . . The letter exceeded two pages. At the end she wrote, ‘Sir, your love for history is not affected by your age. A person like you is always a role model. It would be an honour for me to work under you. The time has come now. I want to do my doctorate. But Sir, without a scholarship, I cannot come. I believe economic independence is one of the most important components of freedom. Kindly let me know your opinion. Please convey my regards to Dorothy.’
By the time she finished, it was long past midnight. Shrimati felt calm and at peace. She slept. The next morning she went and posted the letter herself.
TWENTY-NINE
Shrimati’s mind had been in turmoil for the last three weeks. At times, she would feel that Professor Collins would arrange a scholarship. But then uncertainty would creep in and she would doubt her own ability. It had been ten years since she had discontinued her studies. Could she catch up and compete with the students who were much younger than her? Would it be possible to concentrate on her studies? Had she taken the decision merely in anger? Was it a proper decision? There were thousands of questions in her mind and she was not able to answer any of them.
Shrikant had called her many times in those three weeks, but her replies had been to the point. When Vasudev Shenoy and his wife visited Bombay, Shrimati duly took care of them as per Shrikant’s instructions.
And then one day all her doubts were settled. She got a reply from Professor Collins.
She opened the letter impatiently.
It is quite natural for a scholar like you to wish to become a student again. Getting a scholarship for you is not difficult at all. As there are many things we need to discuss, I feel that you must come at least one week before the term begins. Please do not discard your writings thinking they are outdated. Do bring them. I have asked Dorothy to look for a small apartment for you near the university. Being a vegetarian, it would be better for you to be on your own, than in a dormitory. Until you find something, you can stay in our house. I consider myself lucky to have a student like you at my age. It is rather difficult to have good research students. Dorothy is excited at your arrival. Shrimati, there is no age limit for learning. One who has a thirst for knowledge is a true student. If you have any doubts in your mind about your competence, please forget them.
America is not an unknown country to you. I am sending you the visa papers so that you can come at the earliest.
Shrimati read the letter over and over again. Yes. She could become a student again. She felt life had opened a new door for her. This time, she was making a decision with her head, not with her heart. Sitting in the balcony, she daydreamed about being in a university campus, reading in the library, studying in the classrooms, discussing in the seminar hall. In such places, only knowledge is respected. There is no business talk or pretensions. There is no profit, no loss. How beautiful her life would be! How had she not considered it before, she wondered.
In life, beauty, power, money, health, youth are not constant. Real wealth is knowledge. The more you give, the wealthier you become. That is the reason why teachers are great. Because they spread their knowledge every year to many many students, without expecting any rewards or receiving any favours.
But after the excitement had died down, Shrimati became a little worried. Once she was gone, who would look after Shrikant? Of late, due to continuous tension, his health was not so good. If she wasn’t there, it would cause a problem for him. She felt sorry for Shrikant as he had no idea about money or household matters. He would just sign wherever needed. He had so much faith in her that he would not even carry a wallet. If she went away, what would her mother say? What would people say? Would they gossip about their marriage? These conflicting thoughts pulled her in different directions. Her fingers began to pain from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. Finally, she made up her mind. She could not stay here. She had to go someplace where
she could get the same joy that Shrikant got from his work. That pleasure was more valuable than money. She was going away not to earn money, but to find her own individuality.
The story of Bhamati that she had told Shrikant long ago, came back to mind. Every woman could not become Bhamati. Each woman had her own limits and Shrimati too had come to the end of her patience. Was it the difference in their personalities that had made Shrimati take this decision, she wondered. Or was it her unbearable loneliness? She knew that many women go into depression, become alcoholics, and in some cases become kleptomaniacs. Psychiatrists believe that women do this in order to draw the attention of their busy, ambitious husbands.
Shrimati thought of her mother and grandmother. Her grandmother used to say that her grandfather was a terror and did not believe that women were capable of taking decisions. He never gave women any freedom. And yet Rindakka had never spoken ill of him. Her own mother was married to a worthless man, but she still showed him respect and never spoke harsh words to him. Her situation was so different in comparison. Shrikant was unlike either of these two men, but she didn’t want to stay on with him.
Her grandmother had never had economic independence so she might have stayed back because of that. Her mother was the sole breadwinner of the family. But she still continued to stay with her husband. That was because they were conditioned to believe that a woman should stay with her husband, irrespective of what he was.
Shrimati did not agree with that belief. She felt that there was a limit to which one could be obedient and subservient, but once that limit was crossed, the individual’s happiness became more important.