HALF MOON
CHAPTER - 10
Mehar is on the sea beach sitting on a reclining chair, a large umbrella over her head, trying to save her from harsh sunlight. She is sitting with her eyes covered with dark sunglasses. Sun's rays are sharp as the air of this small coastal village is clean and fragrant. She is sitting savoring the scene in front of her.
Indian ocean is turbulent, as the nature has designed it to be. It is roaring keeping pace with every passing moment. Wave after wave of turmoil keeping it boiled to its core with froth of unfulfilled desires keep forming at the crest of each wave. Riding high and then falling low till they touch the sand of the beach and merge into it, making it wet beyond being dried for many centuries to come, for it is carried deep inside ocean to depths un fathomed by human greed. Those unfortunate particles which are left behind on shore wait for their turn to be claimed, to be rescued from the onslaught of human consumption.
She is mesmerized by ocean's freaking beauty, unable to keep her eyes off it even for a second, she gets up and walks towards it. Dried sand is porous, warm and inviting. Her shoes sink deep. She finds difficult to walk. She takes off her shoes, walks back to the chair she was sitting on, puts them near it, walks towards the sea. This time her feet sink in but she loves the feel of sand caressing her feet, brushing past her skin, falling down through gaps of toes. She is at the brink of ocean's boiling bowl at the altar of nature at it's majestic peak.
She pauses on wet sand and enjoys firm cold ground under her feet. As she looks up to capture the beauty of unending wave after wave of saline frothy liquid she feels intoxicated. She forgets the presence of multitudes around her, people shouting at onslaught of water, people crying out to each other to be close, people talking, people enjoying, people celebrating. She is all alone, by herself and all she feels is the presence of sea in front of her in its majestic glory.
She was looking at a faraway crest of wave rolling towards her and as it came closer she felt a shiver run up her spine. She waited
For it to claim her, consume her. She stood rooted to her spot, waiting. It came, touched her feet, shook her with its divine force, spread around her and went beyond her. She kept waiting for it to return to take her with it to the depths of resounding existence. It returned. On its way back, it left Mehar drenched yet rooted where she was. It did something which Mehar had not anticipated. It took the sand from beneath her feet with her, washed away. She was horrified. She was left groping for firm ground with heals digging deep, curve of her sole adjusting to the crater created by receding waters, exactly the way a lover walks away. She felt crestfallen.
She stood still rooted to her spot, waiting. Another wave frolicked past her, around her, leaving her unclaimed, unloved. It came to her in a flash. And she understood the constraints of human love. It leaves many a hearts broken, many a feet wet, covered with wet sand. For love when you try to seek it at the level of your gaze, love when you seek it within the confines of your shallow understanding fails to match your growth. For if you need to grow beyond the physical limitations of your being, you have to let go of your ego. You have to let yourself follow your heart, for the heart is the tool provided by this bountiful nature to humans to gauge the beauty of your existence. You need to learn to see beyond the illusion of mere physical attraction and learn to wade through this topsy turvy life with the grace of an articulate swimmer, no matter how weary you may feel after a lifetime of treacherous encounters with lesser mortals.
She walked back silently to the chair she was sitting on earlier and looked in front of her. Indian ocean in the middle of the day, gradually turning more active with every passing hour as the evening approached. Water scooters and tiny fun boats taking people for a whale of a time atop them, they get wet, take pictures, have fun all the way and will again have fun while watching those pictures with friends and relatives and tell them anecdotes about each and every picture. This way they will live their holidays many more times. Mehar envied them. She felt the pinch from the lack of such people and such relationships in her life.
She has just been through with her divorce a long battle with many a dirty linen washed in public. Many a times she lost hope of making it, many a times she felt tired of pursuing it any further, for Rajinder had openly threatened her that he would never let her have her freedom. He could not digest the idea of her being free of the
Bondage of his name. He refused to attend court for hearing when she filed a suite for legal separation and later for divorce. He refused to pay heed to court orders many a times and finally when he did not have any choice he filed such filthy counter allegations against Mehar that she almost bowed down. But she derived strength from within in time, which pushed her to accept this challenge and prove herself, and finally she did and here she was free of her demons and this marriage which she often felt as a heavy burden encircling her neck bowing her down constantly.
Her career, although she started late and many of her contemporaries were younger to her, was going smooth. She had an added advantage of experience of emotional upheavals and more knowledge of life in general at its various industries due to her environment. This made her fairly competent in her chosen profession. She was sailing smooth.
In distant horizon she could see a ship with its masts in full view, it must be moving in some direction but from the distant place at sea shore where she was sitting, she could not make out the direction it was moving. It dawned upon her that in the scene before her eyes there was an uncanny resemblance with her own life. Although she was moving at breakneck speed in her professional life, for this profession did not have any other choice, it had only two options; now or never, she sometimes found herself stagnating, moving in circles and not moving ahead. But whenever she threw a stance backwards, she found herself miles ahead from where she was at last time.
Now as she tried to look backwards she found herself right at the spot where she watch her first story come on air. She knew many were watching this in their living rooms and bedrooms across the country, at some places in Middle East too. First story of hers to be aired was the story from“Ramdevra”.She thought it to be a good omen, for people of Bikaner where she had been living for many years had great faith in their saint, who was a prince but was called sant by Hindus and peer by Muslims.
Story came on air after two political stories anchored with professional excellence by Mr. Suri. It had turned out to be beautifully edited, voiced over and had all the ingredients of an emotionally charged devotional article. Obviously it turned out to be among the most popular stories of Pehchaan. Mehar had till date felt
Very proud of everything about it and received accolades for it for many months after. As she received praises for this and many other stories she felt humbled. She understood the value of team work, an integral and inherent part of visual media.
One by one all those stories went on air. Story about Laxman Ram made many ripples at the national levels. Many were found looking for similar stories. Many deserving individuals like Laxman Ram were able to capture eye of the society, in the process were able to make a mark in general. She felt proud of Laxman Ram. But she was not able to see him again, however much she wanted to. She always felt a little sad whenever she thought of him. She wanted to thank him personally once again to be there for her when she needed him, for she felt highly indebted by the fact that when she needed him he was more than ready to showcase his deformities and his victory for the world to see. He sang for her, he walked for her, he wrote for her and he did all that in full public view, completely free of any inhibitions about his shortcomings.
Mehar became busy with her life and this newly found profession. Hardly a month had passed. To her delight she got a call from Mr. Suri's office to send in more story ideas. She was thrilled. She had already had a list of those ready with her. She picked a few suitable ones for a shoot during that season, wrote a small introductory synopsis, she sent those. She received a call the very next day that a crew was reaching her.
Second stint of shoot lasted only four days. As this time she had one seminar and two more social stories to shoot. All three were smooth operations, she too had become seasoned by now, climbing all hurdles smoothly giving out results with grace. Soon these stories too were aired. She went for another shoot and then for another. All this while she did not tell anything about this venture of hers to Rajinder, though many times she felt the urge to tell him. In the heart of hearts she did not want to keep this a secret from him, but she did not want to hurt him. She knew he would not take this lightly and would react strongly.
Almost eleven months had passed. Rajinder was due to return for his annual leave of one month in a month's time. The very same day she received his weekly call telling her about the details of his return and directions about how she had to make arrangements for his return, she got a call from Giriraj. He was coming for a shoot and
Wanted her to line it for him. She agreed to do that. All this while the two of them had been constantly in touch. Once while in Delhi she even asked him to come down to meet her. He obliged but she found him to be restless. He spent a few hours with her. He told her that he was under much pressure for life for a struggler in Mumbai was tough. She understood. She always did. She found him to be on his toes all the time. Making calls, awaiting calls, and anxious when there was none. She had been finding it difficult to communicate with him lately.
If she called him at his hotel she was invariably told that he was asleep or even when he took the call she would not find him willing to talk. It pained her but she stopped calling him altogether. Then he would call and complain that she had forgotten him. She was at a loss how to deal with this. He seemed happy at the way her career was progressing but she felt an undercurrent of uneasiness about him. He would sometimes ask her uneasy questions about her encounters with male colleagues, whether they showed interest in her. Invariably she would tell him the truth but he seemed unconvinced. She did not give this a serious thought. She thought this to be a passing phase in their relationship. She knew he was under stress and she herself was passing through rough weather. There was so much for her to take care of.
It took her two days, a few phone calls and visits and his shoot was lined up. Along the same dates her own crew was visiting and she had to shoot for two days at Bikaner and then had to proceed to Jaipur for an interview with the chief minister of Rajasthan for her story for which she had fixed an appointment with him. The day Giriraj arrived, she was saddened to see him. He looked tired, visibly beaten by life's weather. She had a very unnerving feeling about him. She had booked a room for him in a friend's hotel where she drove him. After he settled down she asked him about his crew. He told her that the crew would arrive next day from Delhi and will be accompanied by the producer. It was a lady who lived in Mumbai, her family had business in television industry and she too wanted to make her mark in it.
She told him the details about his shoot, gave him addresses and contact numbers of the people concerned and waited. He looked at her and asked about her well being. They were finding it difficult to pick up any conversation that could lead to continuity. Every thread any of the two picked up, would soon fall short and dry up. She knew
There was something brewing up in the air between them but she could not pinpoint it. She felt uncomfortable in his company after a while. She got up to leave. He did not ask her to stay. She felt the need to embrace him but as she moved closer she sensed him to be cold. That kept her at bay. Instead she said a hollow bye to him. With a heavy heart she walked out and drove home. By the time she reached home she was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to realize that road in front of her was swimming and her face was completely washed. She was tasting salt with every sob which she took while inhaling and exhaling.
She parked her car almost hitting the wall and hurriedly went inside through the side door. Janab Singh and Surjit had come visiting a day before but she had been terribly busy with these line- ups. She had not been able to sit and talk with them. Now the moment Surjit saw her she called out to her. She stopped for a moment, not knowing how to evade her. Then made a gesture towards her bedroom and went inside. She threw her handbag on the bed and sat down heavily on the same chair where she sat the day she was looking at those melting ice-cream cones on that same table. Table was spotlessly clean today. She was all by herself once again. But in hindsight she could feel ghosts of those melting ice- cream cones staring at her. She could see shadows of her own eyesight playing with her emotions. She let her throat ache but she managed to keep further sobs in check. A short trip to the bathroom and she was composed enough to be able to face her mother.
That night came with more shadows. Giriraj called to talk but they could not manage a conversation. She felt an uneasiness on his part too. She sensed some things unspoken between the two of them. He talked about her stories, about things that were said about her and she sensed that he wanted to say more but was not able to. She tried hard to take that out of him but she failed. He would not. He seemed to be simmering inside, wanting to reveal at the same time trying to hide. Finally she gave up. She said good night and hung up.
Bright sunlight in the morning brought another ray of hope. Her crew was to come the next day. She had to make a few visits and she also had to meet the lady friend of Giriraj for whom he was directing. Last night he had told her about his crew's arrival. She decided to visit hotel first and then to proceed on her own assignment. This was a place she always liked for it had a large compound with rooms
And cottages on the ground floor, it provided almost all the facilities of any resort. Since it belonged to a friend's relative so she could always ask for some discount on her personal bookings.
She went straight to Giriraj's room. She knocked and heard him say, “come in”. She walked in and found him almost ready after his shower. His back was towards the door, he was looking into mirror combing his hair. She kept standing waiting for him to turn and see her. After finishing that he became busy examining himself from all angles. She kept standing enjoying her view and his solitude. He still had not realized her presence. She kept standing at the threshold of door. To her right was the bathroom, from half open door she could see wet floor and smell soap and shampoo. She took a few small tentative steps forward and was surprised to see the bed. It was UN- slept, bed cover still intact and that magazine which he had thrown carelessly over it last evening when she had dropped him was still lying at the same place, at the same angle.
At that instant he turned around. He was visibly shocked to see her standing there. She greeted him and asked him where the lady was. She heard him tell her that she was taking a shower and would be out soon for breakfast. She felt something snap inside her. She did not feel any pain but she felt a numbness deep in her stomach. She felt the air in room overpowering, stuffy and she found it difficult to breath. She felt nauseating. She immediately walked out of the room, through the long corridor, stood in garden, took a deep breath.
He followed her. They came to the main dining hall and there she was. A woman of medium built, round beautiful face, large eyes, heavy breast, tightly held captive in a printed shirt and blue jeans. She had large golden hoops in her ears, colorful plastic bangles in one hand and a diamond studded wrist watch in other. Her face lit up with a smile the moment they entered dining hall. She got up from her chair to greet Mehar and hugged her in a warm embrace. Mehar felt good to meet her. She felt a warm feeling towards her the moment their eyes met. She developed an instant liking for Poonam.
Poonam told Giriraj about breakfast she had ordered and looked at Mehar with smiling eyes.
“So you are that special friend of Giriraj. I am glad to meet you.” despite the formality of words Mehar felt her expression and body
Language to be quite informal. She was very much a true Punjabi woman from Delhi.
Soon the two women were chatting happily, by the time breakfast arrived they were so engrossed with each other that they were surprised to find Giriraj standing at a far away window staring outside. Poonam called him aloud to come there and sit with them. He seemed lost and visibly tired. Mehar tried to read more of him but he was not opening up. He was behaving quite unlike him. Highly talkative, very social Giriraj had suddenly become silent and some what recluse. Mehar was disturbed again but composing herself again she fixed a smile on her lips.
After they had breakfast Mehar again explained to Poonam the line up she had planed for their shoot. She expressed her intention to leave. But Poonam insisted that she stay with them as long as she could. She looked at Giriraj, but did not find any clue. So she stayed. She wanted to know more. She wanted to be certain of her nagging doubts. She felt herself to be a woman standing in dead waters. Stagnant. Neither knowing where to tread nor wanting to move.
They went to one of Mehar's acquaintances' house. It was an old haveli deep inside the old city of Bikaner. This city that had seen only blissful peaceful days. Winding narrow lanes, clean, filled with laughter and fragrances of delicious Marvaree food being cooked behind closed doors. Fragrances of heeng, paparh, spicy fares. People who love their leisurely pace of life. City that although does not have much to boast of in terms of economic activity, except a few small scale industries like bhujia, paapad and nutmeg cutting, yet has all the qualities of an economically up and stable city. Thanks to Marvaree settled and handling flourishing businesses in Kolkata and Assam.
They had been maintaining this age old tradition of keeping their ancestral house well maintained, keeping at least one family from their large brood at any time of the year at this house. Many a times they also build another palatial house in their native village and keep that well oiled with a battery of servants and all basic as well as luxurious amenities in place. With her mother Surjit during her tours Mehar had been to many such properties and was highly impressed with the managerial skills of their staff.
She vividly remembered once she had accompanied Surjit during one of her official tours to Sirohi, a town in Jodhpurs district,
Known for its cotton mills. Surjit being the Deputy Director in Education was invited by one of business families, as they also ran a charitable school. The lady who attended them and provided company during tea was not a family member. Incidentally none of the members were in town. At that particular time of the year they usually were in Kolkata. This lady was the wife of their manager in town. She attended them well, gave Mehar a few tips on grooming too, as she came to know that she had finished her school and after these vacations she would be joining college. She was very courteous, despite her thick Marvaree accent, which was quite surprising for Mehar.
On their way back, they had barely reached the gate of the large campus, when their driver realized that one of the tires was punctured. He stopped the car and opened boot. Mehar got out and before she realized there was another car by their side. It had come from the haveli. Driver got out, saluted and said that he would drop them at the rest house and their car would follow after being fixed. Mehar was highly impressed by this promptness of staff at the time of this light casualty. She experienced such happenings later too at many instances in her life. Managerial skills of maravrees in general she always admired.
Now as they entered this haveli, Mehar felt a little disappointed. Entrance was not that clean, there was dust all around, a regular nuisance in Bikaner, as it is a city situated not far from the heart of Thar desert. There were a few broken unused pieces of old furniture scattered in the courtyard, some old bicycles thrown around, one Bajaj scooter standing in another corner, all covered in dust. They looked around but did not find anyone there. Then they searched for a door bell but did not find any either. They started talking among themselves to know how to approach the household, when Mehar heard her name being called from a window on the first floor. She looked up to see the man of the house peeping out.
Hemraj Sharma owned a multi utility shop in main market of the city and his wife was a school teacher. This house was built by Hemraj's grandfather, who was a court dealer during erstwhile Maharaja Ganga Singh's times. He had made good money and invested very wisely. This large haveli housed almost all of his large extended family till now. Almost half a dozen small units by now in different parts of the haveli. And all of them had fairly sized quarters to call their own. The part they were invited to had three
fairly sized bedrooms, one large kitchen and a small courtyard separated from others by an open door. All families had access to each other's quarters at all times. Now as the news of the crew and shoot spread many of the ladies with little children who were not old enough to attend school walked in. Every one was introduced with full details. While these introductions were being solemnized with due seriousness, the crew setup themselves.
This was a cookery show and Poonam was getting a pilot shot. They had chosen “ker sangree and gattee kee sabzee”. The local flavors of desert to be recorded with some inherent drama. Script was written by Giriraj and innovations were pouring in as it was being read here by the two artists. Grandmother was being enacted by one of Mehar's school teacher. She had approached her for this role and she was more than willing to oblige. For granddaughter Mehar had seen three Miss Bikaner's but finally zeroed in on the daughter of one local businessman, a very pretty girl.
Dadee and potee had been gelling well with each other as well as with Poonam, Giriraj and other crew members. Mehar felt that she was not required anymore. She silently got up and waved bye to Giriraj, who waved her back and walked out of the haveli without being noticed. She was crestfallen. She did not feel like going home. Moreover she still had to meet a couple of people regarding her own shoot which was to b scheduled in next two days.
She remembered how at the sea beach the waves receded after drenching her legs, sand under her feet washed away by sea water. She felt the same feeling right now. Those waves of emotions she shared with Giriraj, had come and gone and here she was all by herself groping for firm ground under her feet trying to remain rooted to her life. Life she had built laboriously, life that attracted many a jealousies, life which she felt had not much to be jealous about. For she knew what it meant and took to be one Mehar. She felt her throat ache, eyes swelled but she did not have the time to be herself. She coughed, put a smile on her lips and got into her car.
She met a couple of people and visited an obscure bhujia making unit. There was some tussle regarding the price of moth daal the main ingredient of bhujia, which is generally grown in this arid zone around Bikaner, Jodhpur and Jaisalmer. During this season the crop had not been good, so considering the sake of the farmers, the state government had hiked buying price of moth. The result was hike in manufacturing cost of bhujia but the market was not ready for it.
During recent few years bhujia manufactures had started exporting their fare in Middle East as well as in American subcontinent. This sudden price hike was not favorable for their trade. They had been protesting for quite some time but since small scale manufactures were not united, their voice failed to make any solid and fruitful impact except making a few ripples at media level, that too in local newspapers. Mehar felt that if she could she should bring their voice at national level through her. She had fixed an appointment with the then chief minister of state as well.
After being at all the three places she had intended to, she finally headed home. She was contemplating within herself about her own fate now. As she was busy getting things fixed for her shoot she was making herself mentally prepared too for Rajinder’s arrival. He had been told by some of his colleagues in good humor about her work and had praised her but they had no idea how this revelation impacted their personal life and for that matter how disturbed and angry Rajinder was. Now every time he called, Mehar avoided speaking to him, as he would be fuming even on phone, she could feel his extreme annoyance in his harsh words and stern threats. She was certain that tough times were ahead and she was getting herself mentally prepared to face the music.
By the time Mehar reached home it was five in the evening. She had hardly had her tea and was having a little light talk with Surjit, Ranjit was sitting near by playing on a new video game console Janab Singh had bought for him. He was completely engrossed in it. He was happy these days since most of the time his grandparents stayed and Janab Singh in particular was very indulgent with him. Especially as long as Janab Singh stayed there the fridge remained stacked with card boxes of sweets from Chhotu Motu, the famous sweets shop of Bikaner.
The phone rang. Mehar dreaded that it would be Rajinder’s, but to her relief it was Giriraj. They had to shoot the kitchen of royal palace, for which Mehar had got them necessary permission and time too fixed. But Poonam wanted her to join them for the shoot. Although Mehar did not feel like going there but she could not refuse and after explaining it to her mother she left.
When she reached the palace she was surprised to see manager Mr. Paliwal's office completely transformed. It was taken over by the crew. Giriraj was making phone calls, floor of the office was strewn
With cameras, monitors, wires, audio recorders and other equipment. The perplexed manager was sitting in his chair looking both harassed and amused, and to Mehar's disappointment more harassed and less amused. Yet he seemed willing to provide all the assistance that was required of him. Their cook, Mehar knew personally, was standing nearby waiting for the dinner orders. It was nearing seven in the evening, quite late by the standards of general eating habits of people in Rajasthan. They prefer to finish their evening meals by eight.
This palace where this whole drama was being enacted was a part of the present ruler's inheritance. He had sold this to Mr. Johri, Mr. Paliwal's boss; who had an ambition to enter into hotel industry. The company had recently acquired this property and were in the process of getting necessary licenses and other related documents in place to get the place started as a hotel. They had held a press conference and declared their intentions. This is how Mehar had come in contact with Mr. Johri and Mr. Parihar.
When Giriraj mentioned that he needed to shoot one old royal kitchen for his cookery show, Mehar approached Mr. Parihar. He said that they had a couple of them on their property still in its original shape, which they could shoot and here they were. She herself had fixed an interview and a shoot around the premises for her own program, as it revolved around one story she had knit about royal palaces being converted into starred hotels and resorts of world repute. She tried to talk about it with Mr. Parihar in detail. But his office was crowded and noisy. They came out of the room and sat in a corner of courtyard. Mehar apologized for the inconvenience caused to him. He politely brushed her apology aside but he seemed visibly disturbed by this sudden invasion he was facing.
More was to come. Poonam had talked Mr. Parihar into shooting a dance sequence in the main porch of the palace. A delightful place, long winding half circle extending to main lobby with carpeted staircase, lined by potted plants. Platform large enough to cater to about a fifty people at one go, beautifully marked with carved pink pillars.
Dadee of the cookery show, Mehar's teacher was assigned to bring about twenty girls dressed in Rajasthani dress to dance to folk songs. Music too was arranged by her. When Mehar was talking to
Mr. Parihar, a mini bus loaded with girls in colorful attire, heavily made up faces and tinkling accessory arrived. The girls got down from bus chattering noisily followed by Mrs. Paliwal, show's Dadee. Mehar got up and so did Mr. Parihar. She tried to read any discomfort in his composure but he looked delighted by this noisy affair. He seemed to be enjoying all activity, as generally the place remained quiet and evenings particularly silent.
It took the crew to set up a two camera set around one hour and soon afterwards music rolled and the girls began to dance, which they had already been doing intermittently. Mehar was amused to see how these young girls, when dressed and made up could not keep their feet grounded for long. She remembered her own school days and a smile came to her. She saw the shoot for a while and this time not telling anyone walked out and drove home.
Some thing was tagging at her heart and she knew what it was. In the last two days she had become witness to intimacy between Poonam and Giriraj and was heartbroken. She knew there were no promises between Giriraj and her. She knew that this was coming. She knew that Giriraj was moving away. But she wanted to know for sure and that too from the horse's mouth, whatever the two had shared, Mehar felt that she had the right to know. But she found that Giriraj lacked the courage or the will to spell it out. She even went a step further and tried to talk more about Poonam to him, stimulating his emotions for her and tried to take it out of him. But he remained silent. She felt insulted, betrayed. She wanted to cry aloud and speak about her broken heart to anyone who cared to listen. But she had no shoulder to cry on, her tears captivated within her made her oscillate between sobs and smiles.
It was around half past midnight and she was driving a lonely stretch near the radio station. This city has always been quite safe for anyone at any hour of the day or night. She had never felt scared ever driving even later or during wee hours. But today she felt very lonely. She felt as if she was the last person left on this planet. She thought of turning on some music, but instead began to sing on her own. She had joined a vocal light music class a few months back and was learning this song, which was a filmy semi classical. Not a great singer but she had learnt almost all notes of this song and was happy with what she sang. Lost in her thoughts and her own voice singing something that soothed her ears she continued driving. The song
meant--“if you go somewhere, ask the time to stay there for a while, let this moment be there for a while, do not let it move away.”
Next few days were very hectic. She was busy with her shoot. Alla Jilai Bai, the noted folksinger of Rajasthan was born in Bikaner had passed away recently. She was born on February 1, 1902 to a family of singers in Bikaner. Her talents came into the spotlight from as early as the age of ten when she was invited to the court of Maharaja Ganga Singh for her beautiful performance.
The inborn talents of Allah Jilai Bai in singing were further groomed by Ustad Hussain Baksh Khan and also by the renowned Achhan Maharaj. She grew up well versed in Khayal, Thumri, Dadra and Maad which formed a strong base to her numbers. Her versatility found the best of representation in Kesaria Balma which still allures the connoisseurs of music. This glorious artist left for the heavenly abode on November 3, 1992. The Indian Government awarded her the PadmaShri, one of the highest civilian awards.
An annual event had been organized in her memory by a local music Academy. She planned to cover it for Pehchaan and clubbed two more stories with it. They shot for two days in Bikaner, third day early morning they started for Jaipur for chief minister's interview. They reached there in the afternoon, met chief minister and recorded his interview. She returned home the next morning on her own. The crew left for Delhi.
There were lean no work days ahead for her. No work and no pressure either to look for more stories. She had some mental space she had been searching for quite sometime. Ranjit was at an age where he did not have many queries to be answered. Janab Singh and Surjit had gone back to Ganga Nagar. She was on her own. Thinking about her life and what was in store for her. She knew Rajinder was not going to like her working outside home. And working for television was another setback. He had many times expressed that people who work for television or write or for that matter journalists were low-grade individuals. He in fact had low opinion about teachers and nurses too, both noble professions in Mehar's eyes.
She was constantly bogged down by the possibilities of reactions that might be expected of him once he returned. He was expected in a week's time. She was dealing with her routine as if she was in a trance. She would go about the day as normal as she always did but
Something was missing inside her. She could not tell what it was but she was aware of nagging worry about her son's future. She knew if something happens with her marriage, if it goes astray, he would be the worst victim of it. The days passed and the day came when she had to board train to Delhi to be there in order to receive Rajinder as he had asked her to.
Her brother and his wife as usual welcomed her to their home. She went to airport to receive him and braved his angry mannerism and harsh words the moment he set his eyes on her. She remained quiet as usual. She wanted to sort things out in peace after they reached their home. But it seemed to her that this was not going to be. By the time they reached her brother's home it was way past evening tea's time. There were preparations for an early dinner. They waited for a while for the table to be laid. Those laden fifteen minutes passed in heavy silence. A few pleasantries passed between her brother's wife and Rajinder. Mehar could sense that Rajinder was up to express some show of his anger, which she wanted to avoid as best as possible. She did not want any unpleasantness in their house because of her. They in any case had always kept a safe distance from her personal matters. Now at this juncture she did not want to involve them at any level.
But this could not be. No sooner the silent dinner was over, Rajinder asked Nimmi to take her younger brother to his room and asked her too to stay in her room. Both the children were aghast. They were not used to being ordered in this curt manner by outsiders. Nimmi looked at Mehar. She requested with apology in her eyes. Nimmi took hold of her brother Nirbhay's hand and they walked out of the dining room.
Mehar was at a loss, she did not know how to handle this situation. She simply kept sitting where she was, on an arm chair, her feet digging deep in ground wishing that this was not true. But this was happening in front of her eyes. The lady that cooked and took care of the house was clearing table and Mehar could read from her body language that she was all ears. She was lingering on, dragging her feet to remain in room for as long as she could, so that nothing escaped her. Mehar's sister-in-law sensed that and she helped her in clearing. She told her to go to her quarters at the back of the house for the day and clean kitchen early morning next day.
By this time the tension in room had heightened. The couple was looking at Rajinder, and Mehar at her hands kept in her lap. Rajinder began to shake his legs and Mehar saw annoyance at her brother's face getting thicker. She wished those moments to pass as quickly as possible. Finally Rajinder dropped the bombshell, as was his regular habit with Mehar and her family members.
“Do you know what your sister had been up to while I was away or do I need to tell you?”sarcasm in his voice was evident.
Hukum Singh looked at him with questioning eyes. Although he understood what he meant but he still wanted to stay away from their personal matters, so tried to play his card of ignorance. But he was not lucky to be spared.
“This woman had been doing all those terrible television things behind my back. You people are all into it, I suppose.”
This was more than her brother to take and ignore. Moreover it was his house they were sitting right now and he had been instrumental in getting Rajinder’s problems solved when he was stuck in red tapism. Hukum Singh got up from his chair and stood by the mantel piece. He was finding it difficult to control his anger. He knew to lose temper in his own house with his sister's husband was not done, however bad he had been instigated. He tried to keep his voice under control and mannerism calm.
“Dr. Sahib. What you are saying is not correct. What she is doing is not less in any way. This too is a profession like any other. She has the right to pursue it if she wants to and she is capable enough to do. She has proved herself. She is doing quite good. We are proud of her.” His voice was calm. He had been successful in keeping his temper under control.
“This is it. Now I know it is you who has made her so obstinate. She never listens to anyone. Who gave her the permission to do this? She is my wife. She is bound to take my permission to do anything. She has to be with me. I am asking her to come with me and she refuses to. Instead she is roaming around on the streets doing this good for nothing job. Many men look at her. Does she know how to take care of herself?” He was almost shouting now. Mehar had turned red with embarrassment, then turned pale and now her face was ashen.
Hukum Singh too was red in face by now. His wife got up from her chair held his hand and took him out of the room. Mehar felt relieved. She knew the worst was over. Now it was between her and him and all the insult he will throw at her she had learnt to live by. He looked at their backs and growled at Mehar,“Have you seen your people's behavior?Not ready to answer my question.”
Mehar picked up a glass of water from dining table she had kept for herself, gulped almost all of it down her throat and sat back in the chair she had been sitting all this while. She knew she will have to speak now else this will go on.
Finally she opened her mouth, “Whatever you have is against me. Why don't you sort this out with me. Why do you want to involve them? They have got nothing to do with this.”
This infuriated Rajinder further.
“Why don't they have anything to do with it? He is your brother and he is into all this. You come to his place in Delhi and get involved in all this. He is the one who encourages you or is it your mother?”
He was loud. Mehar feared that this voice might reach children's rooms. She got up, tried to pacify him by holding his hand telling him to retire to the guest room. He seemed to relent and came with her.
Once inside the room she became busy with her nightly schedule. When she finally came out of the bathroom she saw him sitting in a chair with a few things on the table beside him. She took a closer look and was surprised to see some golden ornaments lying on it. A couple of chains, some plain and some studded earrings. She was tired, wanted to sleep right away but now she knew she will have to sit and sort this out with him. He might have brought these for his mother and two sisters and would want her to tell him which one should be given to whom. He seldom bought any jewelry for her. He had told her many times that the expensive gifts she received from her parents had thoroughly spoiled her. She too had no intention or desire now of accepting anything from him. But there were more surprises for her in store.
He held her by hand, made her sit near table on bed and to her discomfort he sat next to her all of him touching her. She had never felt so threatened by his presence as today. His harsh voice and
Piercing words were not new to her but for almost eleven months by now she had almost forgotten how bitter they tasted to her. She again will have to bear these, she knew; with this added damage she had done to her status. She braced herself for more and faced him, in the process tried to get up from the bed but he did not allow her to. He encircled her waist in an untidy effort to bring her closer though not quite effectively.
She settled and managed to keep some distance. He picked up the jewelry from table and put in her lap. She examined those and told him that all the pieces were very nice. Then she proceeded to know which one was for whom so that if she felt the need she could provide her suggestions. But his words were astonishing for her.
He said, “All these are for you.”
She did not know what to say to this. She simply stared at those glittering pieces kept in her lap. There were two machine cut gold chains, not much of any artistic beauty but simple metallic value in terms of gold. Five or six pairs of earrings, some plain gold some studded with little diamonds. She again looked at them and felt a repulsion she could not understand. She felt an ungainly smell coming out of those. She hurriedly put those back on the table and said,“But I don't need these. I have plenty of my own stuff with me. Give these to your family.”
She said this and cut her tongue with her own teeth. She knew he was going to retort to it. She was going to say something to lessen the impact of her words when he softly held her hands and said,” I know I am harsh to you. But you are so different from the women of my family. I am scared of you sometimes. You are so independent. I feel I might lose you. See, now I have got this foreign posting and I earn a lot of money. I can fulfill all your desires. I can buy you more jewelry and all the things you want. You just have to tell me.”
He stopped for a while to listen to her but she was at a loss of words. She did not know what to say to this. She wished he understood what she wanted. She wished she did not have to face all these adversities she had to. She always had this feeling that life had not been provided to her to eat, drink and sleep, there was more to it. She had been searching for this more for a long time and she now felt that she was on the path to it. She was beginning to find a meaning to her existence. She was arousing to the fact that life
Wanted to give her whatever was her due. She now wanted to claim it and did not want any hindrance in her path.
She said, “But I have never wanted all this. I have enough of everything with me. I have never ever told you to earn more. It was you who wanted to do this job.”
He said, “Yes, but I am doing this for you and Ranjit. I don't want you to feel lesser to anyone.”
She remained silent. She knew the futility of arguing with him. It would end in some sarcastic remark by him and her feeling more insulted, more bitter. She got up, collected them and put them in a small plastic box kept nearby. She kept them on the table again. He became angry again.
“These are such expensive items. How can you keep these so carelessly. They have this servant around the house.”
She picked those up and kept them in his suitcase. He was looking at her all the time.
“You seemed to have lost some weight. Were you not well or what? Or this work you had been running around for? Is it because of that?”
She again did not know what to say to this. She gave him a smile and went on the other side of the bed and lay down after switching off main light. Room was dimly lit now. She covered herself with a sheet, closed her eyes and waited for sleep to bless her. She felt his hand on her breast. She became motionless with anticipation and fear. She was not ready for any intimacy at her brother's house after so much of bitterness and drama nor was she ready for more open display of anger by Rajinder. She did not know what to do. Her own inner emotional turmoil too came to torment her. She said to him in low tones that she was not ready for it. He listened but did not care. He pulled her towards him and made an attempt to undress her. She felt a revolt and the first night she was taken by him forcibly came to her to haunt her again.
She got up with a jolt and said in stern voice, “Look, you have already created enough drama here. Do not do more of it. Do not force me to go out and sleep in the living room. We will deal with all of it once we reach our own home. You will have to wait till then.”
Rajinder did not seem to like it but he relented, turned his back towards her and soon his snoring was audible. She let a sigh of relief and was soon asleep.
Morning was not as good as she had expected. It was Sunday and luckily children were not up early. The four of them were on the dining table having breakfast, when he again began to complain about her. Her sister-in-law looked at her with questioning eyes, she felt embarrassed but shrugged her shoulders. She did not know what else could she do.
She was beyond caring what all was he saying, in fact both her brother and sister-in-law were not listening to him, simply concentrating on their food, when she was taken aback by what he said.
“Even last night she refused to have sex with me. Think of it. I am her husband. She refuses to me. She has been doing this to me for so long. There is nothing between us. What do I do of such a woman. I cannot even beat her up. If I do that you people will file complaint against me.”
Fork from his brother's hand fell in his plate with a huge sound. He got up from his chair pushing it back so hard, it toppled. He left the room without a glance towards anyone and gestured his wife to follow him. She too got up and followed him. Mehar was sitting with her face turned deep red with embarrassment and her whole existence burning inside. She could not eat a single morsel after that. Rajinder oblivious of what he had done, was angry beyond control at her brother's walking out. He was eating his breakfast with audible glee and did not care how Mehar had felt after all this. She did not know what to do. She could not get up and leave the room, that would make him more enraged. It was even more difficult to stay with him.
Finally he finished eating, got up and entered the guest room. Mehar stayed back. She avoided him as best as she could during the day and so did every one else in her brother's household. This infuriated him further, but now after two showdowns, further possibility was abolished by her brother's absence from the scene. He told Mehar that he will spend that day at officer's club and will return late in the evening. This was quite unusual of him for he never went there without his wife. But Mehar understood the
Reason, she gave him a goodbye hug and he went. She was leaving for Bikaner by the evening train.
They reached Bikaner following morning. Ranjit was delighted to see his new clothes Rajinder had brought for him and a new video game. Like all boys of his age he too was fond of video games and was never tired playing with it. There were days when he would spend the whole day sitting in front of Mario, then would complain of backache like an adult and everyone in the house would have a big laugh. Mehar teased him about this and tried to calm atmosphere of the house but it seemed she was not succeeding.
Rajinder was waiting to get his outburst to take out and Mehar was in the process of getting herself ready to face the music again. After lunch she dreaded to enter her bedroom as he was already there sorting out his suitcases and making phone calls. But she decided that this was the right time to do it if he wanted, as Janab Singh and Surjit had gone out for some shopping and Ranjit was busy with his new video game.
She went and lay down on her side of the bed. He gave her a cursory look and remained busy with whatever was he doing. She was unable to understand his behavior. He was the one who wanted to settle things as early as possible and now he seemed in no hurry. She found this strange. She waited. She was never the one to start any confrontation but she badly wanted to settle this thing finally between him and herself. She could not go on getting herself insulted and abused in front of her family over and over again. She had to do something about it, get it straightened for once and all.
She waited for a long time and when he kept himself busy with arranging his wardrobe and did not even bother to look at her, she finally opened her mouth, “Now you say to me whatever you want to. I will answer all your queries. Whatever you have. And kindly do not keep on blaming my family for what I do, because it's not that they instigate me to work. I work for myself and I am reporting for television because I want to do it.”
He was arranging his shirts in hangers, he dropped them on the bed and stood where he was.
“So, this is it. But why do you want to do this thing? You were doing that radio job for six days in a month and I was lenient enough to tolerate that. People in my village gossip that his wife goes out in
The evenings to radio station and everyone listens to her voice. A shameful act in village but still I tolerated because you wanted to do something. Now this is a vulgar job you are doing.”
Mehar protested, “No, how can you call it that. This is serious work I do. I bring forth social issues on national level. And people like my work.”
“Yes, I know this is what you work for. You want to show people how beautiful and smart you are. You are my wife dammit, not a butterfly.”
She realized this was heading again her being cornered against the wall but she now had no choice, she had to finish the fight no matter what.
“You are insulting me. Yes, I am your wife. Why don't you try to understand a simple feeling of mine that I want to so something about my life. And now I have found out what I want to do then you again have objections to it. Every time I want to do something you forbid me to do it and later you make me do the same thing. You cannot keep on doing this to me forever. I refuse to take it any longer.”
“When did I do this to you?”
“Many times. First you did not let me do PG and then almost forced me to do it. You did not allow me to visit my brother's house, but when you needed him you made me talk to him and even accepted his hospitality so many times. There are so many other things. You did not allow me to teach when I got that offer from a school and when it suited you, you told me to go to them and ask for that job, which I could not I couldn't go and ask for something. And I couldn't keep on recounting all that. I feel sick of doing it.“
“That's OK, man changes with the time and as your needs change everything changes.”
“Relationships do not change. You forbade me to visit my brother and now I feel it was foolish of me to listen to you. But if my brother had the similar ideas about changing perspectives then where would you be standing right now? He was the one who forgot everything because he understands the value of relationships.”
“Yes, it's only your family that understands everything including relationships. Do you understand anything about them?
You, who does not listen to her own husband” his voice was loud and sarcasm was even louder.
She felt relieved by the fact that her parents were not in at the time.
“You are again dragging my family into it. I told you to keep this to me only.” she kept her voice low but firm.
She had decided that she was going to bring this argument to some conclusion, that she would neither bow down nor break down and let him overrule her by the sheer power of being a man.
“You put all kinds of allegations against everyone. Why don't you once try to understand one thing that the whole world cannot function the way you want it to.” she tried to reason out it with him without touching the delicate family issue again.
“This is about my home. I want to run my home the way I want it to. Not the whole world.”
She felt a little hope, he seemed to have come to some focal point.
“Yes, this is what I have been saying all the time to you. This is our house, our internal matter. We should deal with it within ourselves, without any external intervention. But you always involve others. You change your views according to other's views. Anyone can influence you easily and you come home with their view points to be implemented on me and my life. I feel as if I am living with a thousand people in this home of mine and each day have to keep some of them happy. This is impossible for me. I will agree if it is your view and you promise to stick to it for the rest of our lives. But you never stay at a point for long. You revert in reverse direction just like an electric switch within no time.” she said and heaved a big sigh. She had been wanting to say this for long. This was seething inside her and she felt immense relief after taking this out. She did not seem to care.
“Yes, so you say all is my fault. You are innocent. Do I ever beat you however bad sometimes I feel like doing it. But I know the moment I do any such thing, your family will drag me to police station.”She did not know what to say to this.
She saw him riding a tangent and felt him treading away from the point, losing the focus again and she felt helpless. She felt like
Giving it up completely. But she knew that would not solve anything. He will not let the issue die like this. He will again raise it and there will again be bitterness. She wanted to sort this out in some amicable manner if at all there was any. She wanted her son to grow up in a home with two parents, she wanted her parents to be spared of trauma which she feared was almost eminent. She wanted that Rajinder's name stayed attached to her, as she knew the world out there did not show mercy to women who did not have any.
She was ready to make amends, she was ready to give him some leverage, she was ready to let him have an upper hand in this alliance they were into as long as he did not smother her with his ever changing limitations. She needed a firm ground under her feet more than any other time. She was heartbroken, she was pursuing a challenging carrier, where she had to be on her toes at all times. She needed to be free of any worries at the basic level. She remained quiet.
Rajinder had come home for a thirty day vacation. She accompanied him to his village for a week and it went off normally. People of his family were not happy about his being away from the country and they expressed their unhappiness in clear words as was customary in his family. He replied in his own curt manner and the matter stayed hung in the air as long as Mehar and Rajinder were there. But Rajinder was certain that he was going to continue with his three years deputation in gulf.
They returned to Bikaner and as Ranjit had demanded, went for a holiday to Mount Abu, a hill station in Aravalis, on the border of Gujarat. This place has been a bone of contention between the two states since their formation. As it is Gujaratis are great travelers. As you enter the roads leading to Mount Abu, you come across all shapes and sizes of Gujaratis heading towards it in happy family groups.
During British rule in India, it was the favorite summer destination of the British, who came here to escape the dusty, dry heat of the plains particularly Rajasthan. It also served as a sanatorium for the troops.
Mount Abu was the home of many saints and sages in the old days. Legend has it that all the 330 million gods and goddesses of the Hindu pantheon used to visit this holy mountain
This place is held in reverence by Jains as well since Jain scriptures record that Lord Mahavira, the 24th Jain Tirthankar(spiritual leader), also visited Mount Abu and blessed the city.
The place was cool and they had good times. Mehar had many memories of this place from her childhood school days. She felt some relief from her tormenting heartache. On their way back they went to Jaipur, where one of Rajinder's cousin lived and ran his plastic recycle factory. A few months back while for a shoot she had been to Jaipur and although stayed in RTDC guest house with the crew, visited his house taking time off her busy schedule. She did not know by then this would turn out to be one of the biggest mistakes of her life.
They went straight to Rajinder's cousin's house and the day passed peacefully. In the evening when all were sitting in living room having tea and were planning to go out for dinner, Rajinder's cousin Iqbal asked him to come out and they went downstairs. When they did not return for quite some time Mehar just out of curiosity looked out of the window. They were standing in the porch of building of which this flat was a part. Their conversation seemed very intense and Rajinder looked visibly agitated. She could feel a sense of excitement in Iqbal's manner. She could not understand but she was to know soon.
A little later both of them walked in. Rajinder was visibly very agitated, angry and Mehar was surprised to see a badly hidden smile on Iqbal's face. She could not understand much but she somehow had a hunch that this was something to do with her. She had had one very nasty encounter with Iqbal and she knew he will never leave any opportunity if it ever came his way to let her down.
It seemed he had something up his sleeve and now he has taken that out.
Iqbal was a man with an eye for women. He certainly had one for Mehar too. She has sensed that and would avoid him as much as she could. But him being one of the family members it was not possible always. There were times when she could not avoid being in his company. During such one family function he found her sitting all by herself, sat besides her and began chatting. By this time the whole family knew about differences between Rajinder and Mehar. Such news spread like wildfire. He made one particularly insulting suggestion that Mehar found difficult to believe her ears. He
Expressed his desire to take her as his second wife. She looked at him in disbelief and asked him to repeat his words. He understood her anger, got up and left immediately.
Later during one soft moment when Mehar told about this to Rajinder, he brushed it aside. Her intention was to not to allow him to be closer to her but it fell on deaf ears. Instead Rajinder did a foolish act of asking Iqbal if he had said anything of the sort to Mehar Obviously he denied and kept looking for an appropriate moment to take back on her. She sensed that he was up to something. She began to brave herself for another assault. Lately she had been facing these so frequently, she had almost forgotten if there was any life without turmoil possible for her.
She was lost during the dinner they had at one dhaba; Iqbal and his family were fond of and had a sleepless night later as she had to share a bed with Ranjit in a room with Iqbal's wife and her two young children. They got up in the morning to face water crisis quite prevalent in this part of the city. Mehar had to let go of her morning shower. They left Jaipur immediately after breakfast. It was a gloomy drive all the way to Bikaner. She knew Rajinder was simmering inside but for once was trying to avoid confrontation in front of his son. She felt some relief.
