‘Really?’
‘It’s true. My parents are old and are in their own world. My daughters will also go away in time. I’m a friend to Shyla and she’s a friend to me. That’s the absolute truth. Do you remember reading the Yaksha Prashna together when we were children?’
Mridula did but she said no. She wanted to hear more from Satish. Satish continued, ‘There is a question in it: “Who is the best friend to a man and a woman?” The answer is: “A wife to her husband and a husband to his wife.” Now, I agree. A husband and wife must share everything with each other and sit and sort out conflicts. Otherwise, how can a relationship develop? How can a family be happy?’
Mridula decided not to go for lunch to Sarla’s house in her current state of mind. For the first time, she was thinking about another man. After Satish left, she wondered, ‘Had I married Satish, I wouldn’t have been as rich as I am today, but I would have had a contented life. If Satish had expressed his love before I met Sanjay, things may have been different. There’s no relationship between money and happiness. The fact is that Satish shares and Sanjay doesn’t—not even his emotions or sorrows. But Satish is content. That’s why he’s still a college professor. A content person distributes happiness. An unsatisfied person like Sanjay distributes restlessness.’
Mridula felt like a cuckoo in the Aladahalli trees. Even though mangoes grew around the cuckoo, she was unable to eat them. Maybe the cuckoo was truly unhappy.
Mridula silently sighed.
24
The Silent Cry
Mridula stopped getting up early to do her chores or look after the house. She continued to cry at the drop of a hat and felt depressed. She got out of bed after Sanjay left for work, had a bath, and sat in the veranda and gazed at the sky. She got angry at everybody and remembered how she used to run the house when they did not have money. At the time, Mridula knew everything about their finances. Now, she did not know what to think. To this day, Sanjay had never taken any money from the accounts that they had without her knowledge. She was under the illusion that she was managing all the financial transactions. But in reality, Sanjay was maintaining parallel financials elsewhere. He acted like an honest husband but he had stabbed her in the back. She felt trapped in her marriage.
Then she thought about Rosemary and got angry with her too. In the documents in the cupboard, she had seen Rosemary’s signature on some of the bills. She thought, ‘That means that Rosemary was aware of everything but didn’t tell me. In spite of everything that I’ve done for her, she kept quiet and didn’t give me a hint. But on the other hand, why should I blame someone else when my own husband’s at fault? He didn’t think of me at all! Sanjay has his walls around him. I feel all alone.’
At the same moment, in the nursing home, Rosemary’s shift was over but she had not yet gone home. She did not want to. Her useless husband was busy betting on horse races or sitting in bars and her daughter Mary Shashikala was in Ooty in a boarding school. Before marriage, Rosemary used to dream about having a loving family, but that dream had remained just that—a dream.
When she was changing into her regular clothes, she thought about Mridula and felt helpless. ‘Ever since Madam opened the cupboard, I’ve been feeling restless and sad. Did she find the files and documents in the cupboard? It isn’t Madam’s nature to walk out without talking to me. She always inquires about Joseph and Shashi. Madam and Dr Sanjay are poles apart. Madam is genuine and has an infectious smile. She understands and forgives people’s mistakes. When Shashi used to fail in her class, Madam personally gave her free private tuitions at home. Then Shashi got good marks which helped her in getting admission to the boarding school. Madam also knew Joseph’s drinking habits and convinced him to let Shashi stay in the hostel for her better future. She was right. Shashi is now happy and excels in studies. When my sister Saira was abandoned by her husband, it was Madam who bought her a sewing machine and helped her start a ladies’ tailoring shop. Once Saira started doing well, her husband came back as the shop’s manager. But now, both of them don’t acknowledge Madam’s help. Only Jesus knows the real truth.’
Rosemary got out of the changing room and went back to her desk. Her mind wandered to Sanjay. ‘Dr Sanjay is the only person who can run a tight ship and keep control of his subordinates. It’s difficult to please him. He gives good increments and salaries but doesn’t help any employee personally. It’s nice to have a boss like him but difficult to live with a husband like that. How does Madam stay with him? He doesn’t forget anyone’s mistake for years. He wants things done his way and in his time. Maybe all successful people are selfish. But why should I look at what’s happening in other’s people’s lives? I should acknowledge what’s happening in mine. Joseph is very stubborn. He was okay when we got married. As I started earning more, Joseph picked up bad habits—buying lottery tickets and drinking. So when Sanjay sir opened a new account with Lakshmi madam, I felt like telling him not to hide anything from his wife. Had he told her the truth, she would have respected him more. But I couldn’t speak my mind. He keeps our relationship completely professional.’
Suddenly, Rosemary realized that a patient’s relative was standing in front of her with a cheque. The cheque was for a new patient admission. The rule was that at least 50 per cent of the fees had to be given in advance by cash or DD. When Rosemary told the man to pay by cash or DD, he said, ‘Why can’t you take a cheque? Do you think we won’t pay?’
‘It isn’t that. It’s a rule.’
‘We’re close to the doctor. Can we talk to him?’
‘Of course.’
Rosemary pushed the phone towards him. She knew what Sanjay would say. But the man muttered something, opened his wallet, pulled out a wad of notes and paid in cash. After taking the payment, Rosemary left the hospital.
A few days later, Sishir came back from his holidays and Mridula did not say anything to him. She did not argue with Sishir or Sanjay but cried in bed every night. Sishir got busy packing for London—his flight was in a few days. As a young man, he was enthusiastic about getting a chance to be independent. Sanjay advised him, ‘Sishir, you must remember to behave differently with different people. The less emotional you are, the better your chances of success. You should not have a personal relationship with your subordinates. Only then can you fire them whenever you need to. You must also know your boss’s weaknesses. Don’t share everything with close friends. In a sentence: you must think only about yourself.’
Soon, it was time for Sishir to leave. It was the first time that Mridula and Sanjay were going to the airport to say goodbye to their son. Otherwise, going to airports for goodbyes had become a forgotten custom. Sishir had accompanied his father on international conferences several times. But this time, he would be alone in England until he completed his course. His parents would see him often, though, since he planned to come back during school breaks.
Mridula was unusually quiet as she saw Sishir go.
25
Connections
After Sishir cleared immigration, he learnt that his flight was delayed by two hours because of bad weather. He had a business-class ticket and went to the business lounge. It was full and there was no place to sit. He came out and saw Neha sitting in the economy lounge and reading a book. He was surprised to see her. He said, ‘Hello, Neha.’
She put down the book and looked at him. There was no surprise on her face. Sishir asked, ‘Where are you going?’
She smiled and said, ‘England.’
‘Me too. Where exactly in England?’
‘Oxford. What about you? Are you on vacation?’
‘No, I’m also going to Oxford.’ Sishir sat down. ‘Is it for another chess championship?’ he joked.
‘No, it’s for my higher education.’
He smiled and reminisced.
A few years ago, two groups of college students had been selected for an all-India youth competition. The competition was in various fields such as dance, drama, oration and chess. T
here were two groups from Karnataka: one from Bangalore and a rural group from Chitradurga. The two groups consisting of five members each met in the office of the government Youth department in a colourless and lifeless building. Every student had excelled in at least one field; Sishir was a good orator and had been chosen from his medical college. When he saw the group from Chitradurga, he thought, ‘Are they really up for a national competition? They would’ve been chosen because it must be mandatory for one group to be from a rural area.’
As was typical for a government employee, the department Secretary walked in late and started distributing forms. Without apologizing, he said, ‘You have a five-day stay in Delhi. The government will take care of your stay and travel. You’ll travel by train in second-class AC at a student concession and you’ll get a daily allowance of five hundred rupees. Your food and accommodation will be taken care of in the government quarters. Since you’re all adults, we are not responsible for any extracurricular activities. Remember that you represent Karnataka and you must bring glory to the state. Please sign the form if you accept these conditions.’
It was the most uninspiring and unmotivating speech that Sishir had ever heard. Everyone started signing their forms but Sishir said, ‘The rules are okay with me but I won’t travel by train. It’ll take two days for us to reach Delhi from here. That’s four days back and forth. I can’t afford to waste that much time. I’ll arrange for my own accommodation and transport. Is there a problem with that?’
The Secretary knew who he was and looked at him with disdain. He thought to himself, ‘This boy is so arrogant.’
But to Sishir he said, ‘As you wish. By the way, are you Sanjay Rao’s son?’
‘Yes, how do you know?’
‘I saw it on your application and address form.’
Sishir did not waste any time and walked out of the room but before he did, he noticed that there were only two girls among the ten participants. One was from Mount Carmel College in Bangalore. He knew her since they often met at various competitions. The other one was an ordinary-looking and simply dressed girl in a salwar kameez. Her hair was in two plaits. He had seen her smile when the department Secretary and he were talking.
While going back home in the car, he browsed through the participant list. He learnt that the simply dressed girl was called Neha. He wondered, ‘Why does the government select such girls who’ve probably never seen a city like Bangalore before? How can they hold their own in national-level competitions? She doesn’t look like she came to the competition through connections.’
Then he became engrossed in his own thoughts about a party with his friends that night. There was a big farewell for him.
Sanjay and Mridula attended the event with him. Everybody cheered as if he had already brought the trophy to the college. Mridula said, ‘Why are your friends celebrating so much without even going to the event? Enhancing the pressure will only affect the performance of the participants. Do you know that in the olden days in Greece, the Olympic Games took place and the winners got only olive-branch crowns. That made sportsmanship healthy and natural. There were no endorsements, no gold medals and no television. There was no doping either.’
‘Amma, stop it. This isn’t a history class,’ Sishir replied.
‘Mridula, please stop. You don’t know how to encourage the youngsters today and give them confidence. I don’t know what you teach in your school,’ Sanjay said.
‘I teach my students to have equilibrium in both victory and defeat.’
‘Amma and Dad, stop giving me lessons. Both of you are wrong. I don’t know whether I’ll win the medal or not. I just want to enjoy the glory before I go. That’s my perspective.’
Everyone laughed.
That’s how he had met Neha for the first time. They had gone to Delhi for their respective competitions. Delhi was not a new place for Sishir. The first time that Mridula brought him there was when he was still a child. She wanted to show him the monuments and museums—just like a teacher. Though he did not like Delhi much, he enjoyed the kulfi, the roadside shopping and the air-conditioned Palika Bazaar.
During the competition, Sishir realized that the group from Chitradurga outperformed theirs by a large margin. Their music was rustic and folk but the tunes were undiluted, original and mesmerizing. Their dancers wore matching and colourful outfits. Sishir was surprised and felt a little ashamed of his prejudgement. Neha did not participate in either the dance or music competitions. Sishir learnt later that she was in the chess competition. This time, he thought that he should not underestimate her. Sishir did his level best in the oratory competition but he knew that he could not defeat the Delhi youths. They were excellent. It was a tough competition and he was happy with a consolation prize. Neha came third in the chess competition and he was duly impressed.
Out of the five days that they were in Delhi, all of them got a day off and they went to visit fashion studios, bars and Chandni Chowk. Everybody knew that Chandni Chowk had a paratha shop from Shah Jahan’s time and wanted to see and taste the food. But Neha did not participate in the group outings. Sishir was curious to know where she had gone. When he saw her later, he asked, ‘I didn’t see you in the bars or in the fashion studios. Where were you?’
‘I went to the national museum.’
‘What’s so great about museums? Have you come to Delhi only to see them?’
‘No, I came for the competition, but I want to see all the museums while I’m here.’
Neha did not say any more. Sishir smiled and said, ‘You’re like my mother. She loves museums too.’
‘Does she? What does she do?’
‘She’s a teacher in a school; but my dad, Dr Sanjay Rao, is a leading gynaecologist in Bangalore. Do you know about the infertility clinic called Samadhan? My dad started it.’
‘Oh, I haven’t heard of it. Sorry, I have to go now.’ Her sharp words were like a needle that pricked the balloon of his enthusiasm.
After that, Sishir had met Neha for the second time in Bangalore. One evening, Mridula was getting ready to go out when the phone rang. Sishir picked it up—it was their driver. He was calling to inform Mridula that he was ill and could not come to work. Sishir was about to go out with his friends but when he realized that his mother was taking out the scooter from the garage, he called out to her and said, ‘Amma, it’s about to rain. Don’t worry, I’ll drive you to wherever you are going.’
Mridula happily agreed. When they were in the car, she said, ‘Sishir, how will I come back?’
‘Amma, if you don’t spend too much time at your friend’s house, I’ll come back and pick you up in half an hour. By the way, where do you want to go?’
‘To my colleague Chandrika’s house in Thyagarajanagar. She has Varalakshmi Puja today.’
When they reached Thyagarajanagar, Sishir realized that the lanes were narrow. He had never been to this part of Bangalore before. Though Mridula was giving him directions, he found it difficult to manoeuvre his car. He felt uncomfortable when Mridula said, ‘Most of my colleagues live here. It’s near the school and affordable on a teacher’s salary.’
They reached Chandrika’s house; it was at a dead end. Sishir got irritated: ‘Amma, how will I reverse the car here? There’s no space in these small lanes. Will you tell someone to open the gate of the house? That’ll help.’
Mridula got down, went inside and told the first person she met to open the gate. To Sishir’s astonishment, Neha came out. She opened the gate and Sishir drove in and reversed the car. He smiled and said, ‘Hello, Neha. What brings you here?’
‘This is my cousin’s house. I’ve come for the puja.’
Still sitting in the car, Sishir asked, ‘All the way from Chitradurga just for a puja?’
‘My sister Neerja stays in Bangalore too. So I thought I’ll meet her. Why don’t you come in?’
‘No, I have to meet a friend.’
Neha found it strange that he did not want to come in and take prasad. So she said,
‘At least come in and take blessings.’
He could have refused but by now, other people had come out of the house and were looking at his big car. He felt awkward and got out. When he went in, he saw that it was a simple lower-middle-class house with cramped rooms. There were too many people there. But Mridula was happy to see that Sishir had come inside and introduced him to her friends.
Neha came with a plate full of mithai and namkeen. Sishir said, ‘No, I don’t want to eat anything. I had a late lunch. Please excuse me.’
Even though he wanted to talk to Neha a little more, he did not get a chance and both mother and son left the house soon.
On the way back, Mridula asked, ‘Sishir, how do you know Neha? She is Chandrika’s niece. I really liked meeting her. Both her parents are working in LIC and they have two daughters. The older one is married to a software engineer.’
‘Mom, I don’t want to know about her family. I know her because she was one of the participants during our competition in Delhi.’
Sishir was rudely brought back to the present when there was a loud announcement from British Airways. He realized that this was his third meeting with Neha. She was packing her handbag and getting ready to board the plane. Sishir said, ‘Well, see you in Oxford. Give me your email ID.’
She nodded her head and they exchanged email IDs.
A few minutes later, he boarded and settled down in his comfortable business-class seat. He wondered, ‘How does Neha feel when she’s going to a different country, especially with her background? Unlike me, it isn’t easy for Neha to go from Chitradurga to Oxford. My life is like sailing on a boat under clear skies. I’m intelligent with good connections and great guidance. I appreciate Neha’s hard work. She must have got a scholarship and taken a partial loan, at the very least.’