HALF MOON
CHAPTER - 14
That night when she reached Ganga Nagar, Janab Singh did not seem to be in the mood to talk about Rajinder or for that matter even about Ranjit. That made Mehar worried. She waited till they reached home but there too both he and Surjit a voided this topic. Mehar could not h old her self longer. She finall y asked them why was she called and what was there to hide from her. Janab Singh sat trying to find appropriate words to express.
Finally he spoke, “Rajinder has refused to send Ranjit. He has said that he will keep Ranjit with him. We even got Ranjit's school leaving certificate and sent it to him. But apparently the person who carried it could not deliver it to him. It was returned to us. He says that Rajinder has refused to take it. We are worried about Ranjit. How will he get admission in any school without this? We are in talk with Raja Ram Soni. He had come here yesterday all the way from Surat Garh. He has assured us that he will certainly do something.”
Mehar knew Raja Ram Soni very well. He was Rajinder's school mate, a teacher by profession and had some influence on Rajinder. She was certain if he spoke to Rajinder, some result will come out of it. Moreover he was a soft spoken and a worldly wise person. He had suggested that Mehar should be called immediately for he felt this could not be solved without Mehar's presence. Mehar felt a little relief. So far she had kept Raja Ram out of this soup but now as he had been roped in, she was certain that something definitely would come out of it. She believed in his wisdom.
She had so much on her mind now to make anything out of it. She did not know what was more worrisome. Her personal life or the faux pause her son had got into for no fault of his. That night she went through one of her most traumatic ones ever. For a long time she could not even take a single wink. And when finally she was able to put herself to sleep, it was a very disturbed one. Like many other sleepless nights she kept oscillating between dreams filled sleep and faint wakefulness with many intervals.
Finally the dawn arrived, she heard her parents talking in early morning over their sips of morning tea. She did not stir. She remained motionless in her bed, not knowing what to do. She simply had to wait for someone to tell her what to do. This feeling of anticipation, of dead, silent, stagnant wait she hated. There were very few things she hated. She would come to dislike many things but for hating something she had to jump many hurdles inside her and that was an effort she generally avoided.
But when she had to wait with a complete lull or void, nothing to fill her hollowness on her own, when she had to wait for someone else to do this for her, when she had to wait for someone's command to trace her own life's trajectory, she hated it. This was one of those periods and she wanted to get over with it as early as possible. She was ready to forgo many things. All she wanted was to emerge out of this marriage with herself and her son.
She did not mind or care how scourged she ended up during this process, for she knew it was not possible to come out of it unscathed. She had prepared herself mentally to face anything, any kind of accusations, any possible assault that might be hurled at her. Meanwhile her parents and other well wishers and there were many, she did not know by then, were trying their best to minimize this damage as best as they could. Many of them were in talk with Rajinder, most of them independently to make him see the light of the day.
The three of them went about the day trying to follow their individual routines. Eating at time, having shower, Janab Singh even performed his morning visit to his farms, Mehar accompanied him as she was not able to keep herself busy otherwise. Being here at her parent's home made her miss her son even more. She badly wanted to speak to him but controlled herself. Any wrong step at this moment could jeopardize the efforts others were making for her sake; she knew it and felt highly obliged.
She reached the farm, the very same farm where she had spent many of her childhood days. Days filled with raw fragrances of grass, marigolds which would crop up on the sides of water channels on their own during winters, fragrance of wild red and pink roses that her father would take great pains to save from farm helps' children, who would pick them to throw away, fragrance of meethi neem
which Surjit had especially got from Jodhpur for this was unheard of in this area forty years back.
During early morning breeze still moist and cool, she tried to take a round starting from kinoos and then on to bers and ahead but the earth was freshly ploughed for sowing of seeds for new crops, so she could not go further. The day too was getting hotter. She returned to the patch of dense greenery and trees near servant's quarters and other utility rooms. Four chairs, a table, a jug of water filled with cool fresh water from tube well and two glasses were kept on it. She filled one glass and sat on one of the chairs drinking from it.
She loved to come to her father's farm and sit here under this canopy of trees during summer mornings drinking cool ground water smelling of earth. She loved the silence of breeze punctuated with rustle of leaves, with sounds of farm helps working nearby echoing and wafting on the air blowing in her direction, sullen dim sounds of the traffic coming from the state highway not far from where she sat, hidden behind quarters and a neat line of sheesham trees, planted by Janab Singh decades ago, sounds of children playing in between kinoos and ber plantations being scolded for causing hindrance to women taking out weeds.
She did not know she missed theses sounds so much till she came and sat there. Today as she listened to all these familiar sounds, thoughts of her predicament too were embedded in these. She realized if she had not been summoned here she would have been in newsroom right at that moment working furiously either on a computer writing script or getting some story edited in editing suites braving the cold with her white pashmina shawl, a gift from Janab Singh. She always kept that in her locker in office.
Here, sitting in cool fresh morning filled with fragrances of all sorts she felt closer to herself but this thorn deep into her soul was aching continuously, pain would not leave her for even a single second to make her free to breathe to her heart's content. She knew she would have to wait for those blissful lungful breaths of her life, but for how long she did not know. In fact no one knew. All that was shrouded inside the possibilities of future that could be uncovered only when one visits there in real time and uncover using one's own hands. On the path to life transcending through slippery patches she had come to know that there were no shortcuts in life and time. One
Has to endure and live life with soul and heart braving all weathers head on, beating all odds with own sword. As they say in Rajasthan, the land of her birth that one has to die in order to get entry through heaven's gates.
Janab Singh and Mehar came home with fresh vegetables from the farm for the day. There was no news from anywhere. Mehar kept sitting on her favorite place in the front courtyard on an easy chair, telephone kept at a coffee table near her. She was staring at it when her mother told her not to. That scared her. She thought she might get crazy by just sitting idle. But she did not know what to do.
She had only a few friends in this town of her birth as she had never lived there for long. None of them lived there anymore, all were married off and disbursed to different places on earth. She picked up the morning newspapers but could not concentrate. Then she asked her mother if she could help in kitchen but all was done by then.
She climbed upstairs and got on the roof of the house. She had many memories of this place. She would be scared of coming here in the evenings as that was the time when a cat would generally be sitting at the threshold of staircase waiting for Laxmibai to feed her in the evening. Mehar missed Laxmibai, she had passed away a few years back after being bitten by a snake. She had gone to her native village in interiors of Bikaner where this mishap happened.
A small frame, fiery, temperamental woman, Laxmibai had nine children, many of them were born while she worked for Janab Singh's household. She would come to work till the last day of her pregnancy though accompanied by her eldest daughter to help her in running around and after giving birth she would resume work within a fortnight without fail and with as much vigor as before. Mehar was amazed by this woman's zeal for life especially when she herself became a mother and realized how physically and emotionally taxing motherhood can be. Again the thought of Ranjit came to her and she wondered what he would be doing at this moment. She was on the verge of tears when she heard her name being called by Janab Singh. She hurriedly climbed down. Both Surjit and Janab Singh were sitting close to telephone.
Janab Singh spoke,“Raja Ram had just called. They are starting from Bikaner right now. He is bringing with him both Ranjit and Rajinder. He said he will tell the details once they reach here. But
Mehar, you should be prepared for anything. You might be asked to stay with Rajinder again. We know this is not done but we have to think about Ranjit. Rajinder has taken him in his custody and will not let us meet him. And he is not even willing to put the boy in a school. I am completely unable to understand this man. I cannot understand his behavior. He is dealing with two lives and he is dealing according to his own whims. He has no regard for anyone else besides him.”
Mehar did not know what to say. She was relieved to know that she would be able to see Ranjit. For the moment this was a moment of relief for her. She let a deep sigh leave her lips and sat down. Lunch was laid by then. Having finished their lunch both Janab Singh and Surjit went inside for a siesta. Mehar continued to sit there. She was not thinking about anything. Her brain had turned vacant.
All she could think was that finally she will be able to see her son and will be able to streamline his life as required; the boy would be put in school here or at Bikaner. Rest of the things and matters could be resolved later. Previous night's sleeplessness soon began to tell on her. With this relied to her mind she felt soothing sensation all over her. She rested her head on the back of the chair, put her feet up on a foot stool and dozed off. It was a hot summer afternoon but a ceiling fan just above her was enough to keep her cool and dry. The aching thorn too had to take some rest.
With the evening came Ranjit accompanied by Rajinder and Raja Ram. She held him close to her for a long time. The boy was growing fast. He had almost grown of the same height as Mehar and she knew he was soon going to shoot over her. She felt a shooting pain in her throat, something got stuck there. She cleared her throat, holding him by his hand took him inside. They sat for a while. Then she asked him,“How have you been, my son? You know you have to attend school, you should have told this to your father. He must get you admitted in BBS there, if you are going to stay with him.”
Ranjit looked somewhat lost and bewildered by what all was happening around him. He said, “I know, but papa says he cannot handle all that. He says you have to come and stay with us.”
Mehar did not know how to explain things to this boy, who was neither a little boy anymore nor grown up enough to understand things the way they were.
She patted his shoulders and said, “I will talk to him. You are going to stay with me or here with your Nana Nani. We will make sure. Don't you worry. Do watch TV for some time, stay here only. Please, do not come where we are sitting. I will soon join you.”
He held her back holding her hand. She could feel urgency in his gesture and grip.
“Have you left your job? Papa says he will not let you work. But why must you work?”
Mehar knew she had to explain a few things to him. But she needed time for that. At the same time she just could not go out leaving him stranded in this without any answers. She took a deep breath and sat beside him.
“Look, my son. I am not doing this job for bread and butter. I do not need to. Your father or your grandparents can provide me with that. Do you understand this?”
He looked uncertain but he nodded in affirmation.
She kept sitting close to him feeling his awkwardness about not knowing his mother anymore. She too felt awkward as she felt she was not able to reach out to him as she could earlier. She would simply embrace him and he would be her very own little son, but not anymore. He was growing up and growing up with these uncertain situations where he was being deprived his most basic birthright of attending a school.
She felt a shooting pain in her breast. It was almost similar to the pain she used to feel while he was an infant and she was a lactating mother. Whenever he would sleep for long hours and her breasts would be full of milk, the pain would be this acute. She had asked her doctor, who advised to wake up the baby or even while in his sleep put the baby to breastfeed. She told her that this was best for both mother and the baby.
But at this juncture no one could guide her. She was herself the doctor and the patient. She will have to find a cure on her own, that would give some relief to herself and benefit her child. She was about to get up and go out, when Ranjit spoke,“Mummy, why don't you come back and stay with Papa? He cries many times for you. He feels sorry. He will not hurt you again.”
She kept sitting there aghast. She did not know how to handle this information, rather request from Ranjit. This was beyond her to comprehend. Ranjit was too young, too naive, too inexperienced, too little informed to comment or request or pass any judgment on such a grave matter. But all the same, he was the most important link in this maze. He was the worst sufferer and he would be the lone beneficiary too, if this alliance worked out, of which she had very little hope. She looked at him; his eyes spoke of hope, oblivious of the harsh realities of life and world, of which he had yet to begin to learn. She remained silent but when she walked out of the door, her mind had begun to wander in unknown territories.
She ventured into kitchen. No one was there. Tea was served and dinner was a few hours away. She took some biscuits from the tin and began munching absentmindedly.
She came out and without being noticed went upstairs to the roof. There she pulled out one chair from barsati and sat on it thinking. She did not know for how long she sat there, for she could not think for long, as she had fallen into deep sleep, while leaning on its back. When Ranjit shook her shoulder, she woke up with a start. He told her that they had been looking for her anxiously, only he knew she could be found here, so had climbed up to bring her downstairs. She followed him without a word.
Raja Ram did all the talking. He explained a few things to everyone in general. There was nothing new to it, so she sat and bore without participating. Then the focus shifted to some relevant subjects. Now he wanted some assurances from both Mehar and Rajinder. It seemed he had become self appointed judge of a one person committee and everyone else had given him complete authority. Mehar tried to raise objection to it but her voice was drowned by Janab Singh. He told her to listen to Raja Ram once.
She had to obey him. She had no choice. She sat silent after that and listened to each and every word spoken by each and every person. Her life, her dear life, her very own life once again had been snatched away from her. This time they were all a party. Rajinder, Raja Ram, Ranjit, Janab Singh and Surjit. She felt aloof and sat listening; only listening. Every eye was on her. Soon all were done with their views and ideas. All she could gather was that they all wanted her to give her marriage one more final chance... One last chance.
Raja Ram was of the opinion that Rajinder had repented for his misconduct and he will in future refrain from it. He has given his word. He will respect her in private as well as in public. He will allow her to peruse her research from Jaipur as she had wanted to. She was about to tell him that she had lost complete hope for that for the single chance she had was gone and now she was not keen to do it. She had found her calling.
But in these present situations this seemed foolish to her to talk about what she felt or hoped. She was one against all. She had played the gamble of life, her life and she had lost it, she knew. She sat crestfallen. With drooping eyes, sunk shoulders, feeling drowsy and nauseating. Lastly he said that everyone feels that Ranjit's future lies in her staying with Rajinder and they all felt that she should fulfill her motherly duties by compromising her career.
Mehar felt a very strong urge to tell him and all that it was not mere a career for her. It was the soothing balm for her scathing nerves and scorching soul. But she understood the futility of this exercise. She bowed her head to hide her complete disappointment from life, from her loved ones, from herself, from her heart. She was silent till the core of her being. She felt dead.
But she had to speak. She had to fill the air in front of her with words that defied her. She had to undo herself at her own altar. She had to dive deeper into oblivion. She had to label herself a thief for stealing her own dreams and peace from herself. They were all looking at her. She still had the last word saved for herself. She knew it. She could turn the table right there, right in front of all of them. She could say a “no” and save her soul from this obsolete indignity. But she couldn't.
She lacked the will now. She was not scared of being left alone but she did not have the courage to leave Ranjit alone. She was told this morning by Janab Singh that there were serious discussions about letting the boy stay at village house and this was the final alarm bell that had prompted him to take action immediately. She had not taken this piece of information seriously but now after all this she realized that the information was correct. Looking at Rajinder at this point of time she felt that
Rajinder was capable of doing this.
Mehar looked straight at Rajinder. His manner was eager but she found difficult to read much into it. She forbade herself from looking or searching for more clues and spoke indifferently, “You take Ranjit and his belongings from here along with his school leaving certificate by tomorrow. Tonight he will stay here. Get him admission in BBS the day after. I will leave by the train tomorrow night for Delhi. When you will confirm his admission I will hand in my resignation and leave Delhi as soon as possible for Bikaner.”
She looked at Raja Ram. She was about to open her mouth when he said,“I will be with him all the time. I will confirm his admission to you myself.”
There was nothing left for her now. She got up immediately. Went into her room, bolted from inside, lay down on the bed. Soon she was asleep. She was not woken up that evening. Not even for dinner.
Next day she sailed through the hours without registering much. Surjit wanted to talk to her but she was in no mood to talk and least of all about her life. So she avoided her. Janab Singh understood her mental state. He took her to the farm with him during morning hours. Later during evening he insisted that she accompany him to the market. She did. She was not present anywhere, neither at home not at farm, not even in the market. They bought some cloths for Surjit and herself. Janab Singh asked her to give it to the tailor for stitching. She obeyed. When tailor wanted to take her measurements, she told him to do with the old measurements.
Somehow the evening arrived and with it came a telephone call from Bikaner. It was Raja Ram. He informed that they had reached safely and Ranjit was happy and safe. He made him talk to Mehar. Ranjit seemed to be in good mood. As Mehar spoke to him, she realized a few more things about life. She realized how fragile it is, how treacherous it becomes sometimes. Relationships that are there to be cherished can cause you immense pain and heartache. This boy almost on the threshold of teenage was her own flesh and blood, was coming to life, was opening his eyes to this chaotic world with such speed, she did not want him to be exposed to.
She wanted to spare him the mistrust that had been there between her and his father. But that was not to be. She had realized she could not do much on that account. Each one of us has to abide
By our own individual destiny. She was living hers, Ranjit his, Rajinder his own. In between the interstices her parents and caring friends like Soni too were entangled by their destinies being crossed by hers. They too had to bear the brunt of hard luck by braving rough talks, sometimes mistaken well wishes, sometimes frustrations of others for no fault of theirs. She felt bad for each and every person who got involved in her life at this juncture, where she was stranded right now.
She left that night for Delhi by the overnight train Udyan Abha express. It ran through Rajasthan, Punjab and Haryana to reach Delhi the following morning, then proceeded beyond Delhi towards Kolkata while passing through Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Bihar and West Bengal. She reached her room by eight in the morning, took a shower, had breakfast and lay down on her bed not knowing what to do to kill time that had suddenly cropped upon her palms. Its brown shoots growing out of her fate line were spreading like tentacles all around her. She was getting entangled and sucked in its vacant futile unworthy vacuum.
She lay there watching her palms and trying to read if at all anything was written in these lines. She did not know how to read these, nor did she want to know. She had almost seen with her open eyes her own fate by now. She did not want to know more. Her defeated soul and broken heart were more than anything else she could endure anymore; at least for the time being. She knew more was in the offing for her. More insults, more abuses, more accusations, more deprivations. But had she not have enough already? She thought and lulled her heart to peace, a restless peace.
If she could survive this, she will survive more. This was her life's mantra. She did not know since when she had been living with this chanting within her all the time. Her inner core wanted to live; this was more than reassuring for her. This single thought was enough to put her to peace and a smile on her lips.
She did not know for how long she slept. She woke up with a knock on her door. Her kind hearted landlady had come to tell her that she should pick up the phone as there was a call for her from her father. She had taken a parallel telephone line from their telephone connection and whenever there was a call for her, they would put down the receiver and the caller had to call again. Mehar would know if the second call came within a few seconds of the first
One that it was for her. Today in her sleep she missed the cue and the lady had to come to wake her up.
Janab Singh had called to convey Raja Ram's message from Bikaner. Ranjit was admitted in school and would have to attend with immediate effect. He had asked Mehar to reach there as early as possible so as not to let the child miss more school days. Mehar too wanted the same. In fact everyone wanted this. She got up from her chair and stood for a few minutes not knowing how or from where to begin with.
She knew she had to begin from the office of GITV. She did not know what she would say to Mrs. Mehdiratta or for that matter to her colleagues. She simply put her mind to rest and began to get ready to go. She told herself that she will think about that while driving. She put on a fresh shirt, combed and brushed her hair, put on her most comfortable pair of black strapped footwear that matched with blue denims she was wearing.
This was the first week of July. Beginning of month, beginning of new sessions in almost all schools in the country and a new innings of Mehar's constantly on the rocks marriage. She threw a wry smile towards the mirror. She looked herself in the eye and saw a stranger. A hollow woman with sunk eyes, much older then she knew, stared back at her. Her complexion was pale, dull, devoid of life, no sign of vigor she had felt flowing in her blood till only three days back.
She tried to recognize her but failed. She did not know this woman ever lived in her. She felt scared of her. This woman looked so sure of herself, her jawline was very well structured, firm and protruding, away from her soft facial contours. This was a woman with high point of determination written on every inch of her face. Her head erect, her gaze absent outwardly, bent inward yet piercing, her shoulders straight, her collar bones visible from her pale blue striped open neck shirt, her breasts hard, inviting, yet repulsive; all at the same time. Her waist tightly clad in her blue jeans and dark green patterned belt. Her feet tightly held in her black footwear.
She could not find anything soft about her. She had indeed turned rock solid, just like the stone Surjit had asked her to, just the way her strong mother had wished her to. She felt her mother by this command had asked her to be born again. Her very own mother who had bore and brought her in this world, provided her with the
Life she owned now. This mother who once told her she used to be awed by her little daughter's innocent beauty while she was a toddler. The very same mother had told her to shed her womanhood to become a stone.
She felt being born again. She rose from within her to face the worst defeat of her life. She felt there could not be more insulting than resigning from something which you have found to be your lifeline, which you have found to be your calling. Which you have found to be the last resort to your dignity and peace of mind which you felt you deserved for the simple fact that you are born a human. She was going to do that and for that she had to leave behind herself and go along with this new woman who looked at her from the mirror. She took hold of her, held her hand tightly and out they walked of the door, hand in hand.
She did not have to say much to Mrs. Mehdiratta. It seemed she was busy and moreover almost every one by now knew about the life she was leading. They knew she had to do things she did not want to. So most of the times she was left alone. She told that she would have to leave this job, despite badly not wanting to. Mrs. Mehdiratta expressed her sympathy that made her feel uncomfortable. She tried to take that in her stride. She expressed her feeling of being extremely sorry and at loss. Mrs. Mehdiratta told that she valued her as a good reporter and script writer and the organization would miss her. And also if in future she felt the need or wish to join she will be more than welcome. She thanked her profusely for this gesture and walked out.
Sitting at her post in news room, typing her resignation letter on her terminal, she saw a few drops fell on keyboard. She immediately wiped them with a tissue and resumed with the task at her hand. She forbade her tears to visit her eyes, told them to leave her at peace with herself. They obeyed. She took out a hard copy of her letter, signed it and gave it to Nancy. Now she wrote a goodbye note for a few close colleagues, sent it to them. She did not have the heart to say her goodbye in person to anyone.
Sulekha Singh the input editor was at her seat busy as usual sipping juice from one of her sippers. Mehar came to her to talk and before she could open her mouth, Sulekha said with a wide smile, “Hey, Mehar here is a nice soft story for you today. These children have returned from Moscow after a cultural exchange program
With Russia. They have lots of tales to tell, twenty three of them. Please, go get them for me today.”
This was normal with Sulekha. Every story belonged to her and she would pass them on with the care and affection of a doting parent with a lot many instructions each time.
“But Sulekha, I cannot do this today as I am leaving for good... Leaving HITV. I do not know. I might come back but when or if at all, I really do not know.”Mehar's voice must have sounded grave when she spoke for no sooner had she stated the facts of her life she saw Sulekha's jaw dropped. Sulekha held both her hands in hers and asked, “Hope all is well.”
“Yes, all is well. I will cherish every moment I spent here. I will miss you.”That was all she managed to say.
Both looked into each other's eyes. Mehar felt there was no need to say further. She walked back to her place, picked up her bag and after waving a bye walked out of the exit door. She felt she was leaving something behind. She checked her bag, it was on her shoulder. She checked its contents, most of the things she could remember were in it; wallet, pens, notebook, comb, hand lotion, brown lipstick, lip balm. Nothing seemed to be missing. Yet she felt unsure. But she walked out nevertheless.
As she got down and was at the gate of the building she realized she had left some part of her life there. This place of work resonated with her being. She had been living her life through her work and now it was lost. She will have to learn to live with one more loss. She did not feel much beyond it. She did not allow herself to. She knew there would be plenty of time for that. To look back, to feel gratitude, to feel sorry, to let defeat sink in, to allow life to take its own course, to make amends with her heart which had already begun to beat heavier and steadier with every step she took while breaking threads with this life she had knitted, with dreams in her eyes, of a better tomorrow.
Life had not been merciful to her yet she loved her with all her might. Then why should it ditch her so often? She did not know. She did not want to know. She was beyond caring. At least this was what she felt at that moment. There were more immediate things on her mind now. She had to inform her friends about her leaving, she also had to arrange for a driver to drive her back to Bikaner, a good five
Hundred kilometers from Delhi. She had to inform Varshee and Rawi. She had to inform her landlord, the retired police officer, a hard nut. She had to pack her bags too. Her platter was full.
She did all with comparative ease. The most difficult was done already. Amit offered his driver to drive her back, she accepted and felt obliged. Both Shradha and Amit said that they would have gone themselves if Shradha had been in better health. She was having tough times with her second pregnancy. She thanked them profusely. They had been her pillar of strength during difficult times. She did not want to burden them more. Her landlord was unhappy over her leaving so sudden, but she had paid him that month's advance and had no intention of asking it back, so he did not express his unhappiness in too many words.
Varshee and Rawi too did not say much, they simply expressed hope that this gesture of hers would reap in good results. All was arranged within a day and the following day she started her reverse journey for Bikaner. Not knowing that this time she was going to land straight in a soup which was simmering at that instant and would be frothing for her as she was on her way with a little hope in her heart for her son, although very little.
She had her lunch packed and ate it in the moving car. Amit's driver refused to eat any; he did not eat while driving. They stopped a couple of times for freshening up and tea and reached Bikaner by late afternoon. Sun was setting.
Sand dunes begin to show proudly just a few kilometers before the city outskirts begin to show. This five hundred years old city sits in the midst of a row of sand dunes. As one approaches from Delhi highway, it stays hidden behind these for a long time. But when you are about to reach, suddenly the road makes a bend into this necklace of sand dunes and there you see it, like a bracelet of uncut diamonds studded in darkened oxidized silver of early night.
Mehar felt like home coming. She did not know she had been in love with this city she had lived for many years by now. She had spent a major part of her life here. She had set up a home here, had her child, studied further, worked, leisured, fallen in love here, loved, had friends, had enemies too, for her memories of a life time were attached with this city. She kept sitting looking ahead at the road to her home, she did not feel a longing for, but she was heading towards.
This was a strange feeling. She had to go there. She wanted to go there to give her tired bones and mind some well deserved reprieve but she did not want to go there. She did not want to spend another minute under the same roof with Rajinder. But she was coming to spend the remaining part of her life with him. At least this was meant to be. Deep in her heart she hoped that what others were hoping is proved to be right, that what she feared was proved wrong.
She allowed herself to wander in wilderness of her own thoughts and squeezed a part out to direct the driver towards her home. City was the same. Even the potholes on the roads did not change, they were at the same spots, some were filled, some still intact, making her feel a little better at the sight of familiar sights. She stopped near the market to buy some chocolates for Ranjit. There were murmurs around her, she ignored. A few people came forward and wished her. She accepted their greetings with due grace and hurriedly got into car. She had forgotten the fact that her face was more familiar now as she was reporting more often.
She reached home to find Ranjit eagerly waiting for her. Rajinder showed disinterest but his body language spoke of victory out and out. He was jubilant and was unable to hide or contain it. While having tea sitting with Ranjit listening to his excitement over meeting old friends again and attending familiar school, she could not help listening to Rajinder humming to himself and moving around the house happily yet aimlessly. She felt fear raising its head from within her but she put it back to sleep with a swish of her hand. She felt she was over reacting out of disappointment with her situation. She felt that what she had done and was going to do was in the interest of her only child and she should never regret this act of hers.
By the time they sat for dinner Ranjit had been through with his over excitement. He was silent now, tired and sleepy. Mehar too was tired, listless. Rajinder was full of energy. He was talking about his days and times in Middle East. He spoke about his work there, which was heavy in terms of physical labor involved in it but it was less taxing as it did not involve teaching and other related assignments which he had to do here as this hospital happened to be attached to the medical college. She could understand what he meant by it. He finally came out with his disappointment about leaving a job he was enjoying, that too for only his family. Mehar had many answers
Brewing up inside her, raising their heads, but she preferred to remain silent. She once again chose to be the old Mehar she had left behind.
She realized that her choice of donning the old garb had something to do with this house and its ambiance. The moments she would be inside it she would turn to be docile. But as she reminisced more she felt otherwise. She had reacted and revolted in this same very house. So this was nothing to do with the house. This was something inside her – The fear of the unknown. But what was unknown now? She knew everything now. She knew how far and how deep all this ran. She knew herself truly well; she knew how much she could endure. She knew how much she could compromise.
She knew the exact place of each and every relationship in her life by now. She had come back to be with her son. She had not come back for a dead and lost marriage. She was certain about that. But she was also open to any possibility of it reviving on its own in a new direction, above a new horizon, in renewed vistas. There was nothing left from the past in it. It could sprout from renewed shoots; she was ready to let it happen that way. But making it work from where it was left was not possible for her now. She did not have any leftover emotions inside her.
She, however, did not know about Rajinder yet. She did not know how more he could venture out, she did not know how farther he could go. She was not certain about his limits yet. And as more and more of him was opening to her renewed awakening, she began to feel fearsome. She felt there was more to this man. She felt she was looking at an iceberg. This scared her and she pulled up her defenses.
After dinner she asked Ranjit to brush and go to bed. He was sleepy and obeyed. She sat for a while with Tarabai and talked to her about mundane issues. Finally she went in her bedroom for her routine nightly schedule. Everything she needed and used was in its place. She did not feel the need to open her suitcases she had brought with her. After finishing with herself she went to Ranjit's room to check him. He was fast asleep, his morning things all laid up on chair, uniform ironed, shoes polished, bag arranged. She felt relieved. Alarm clock was set for six am. She picked it and carried it with her. She wanted to wake him up herself in the morning.
She went to the guest room to sleep. As she closed the door and wanted to lock it she realized the lock was removed, handle moved without an effort, and door did not get hooked to its frame. She pressed it and when she looked up to latch it she discovered that latch too was not in its place. All she could gather were dark gaping holes left by unscrewed screws stared back, teasing her. She now knew it was a deliberate act of Rajinder. She stood for a while thinking about her next step. She felt insecure sleeping in this room. She thought of sleeping on the couch in the living room, but rejected it. That would be a sure shot signal of accepting defeat she did not want to. Then a thought came to her. She took out two blankets and a bed sheet from the drawer of the bed, picked a pillow from the bed and went to Ranjit's room.
She spread one blanket on the floor in a corner just in front of the other door of the room. This opened in outer veranda, so was kept locked most of the times. She spread the sheet over it, placed her pillow, lay down, covered herself with the other blanket and waited for sleep to claim her. This place was hidden from the entry to this room, behind Ranjit's bed and study table. Darkness further insured that she would not be found here. She lay there thinking about her life now. It had been a hurdle race for a long time by now. She did not know for how long this will continue. She was beginning to feel tired. She wanted to live a normal life, where everything would be crystal clear and transparent. But she knew she had to wait.
She had left this house not long time back and after she had crossed the bridge, she had burnt it. She had no intention of visiting these shores ever again. But here she was. Once again at the mercy of time and fate; as both seemed to run against the tide. She was made to tread upon this burnt bridge. She had to watch her every step, for it might give in any time, it was dwindling back and forth. She wished she was spared this trial of her life. But in the same very breath she also knew she could herself do that but that would mean doom for her son. And that was not possible for her to do. So she had to endure and bear and she felt at peace with herself. She fell asleep.
It had not been long when she heard some whispers. She was alarmed. She covered herself more with the blanket and peeped from it. First she could not make out anything, slowly as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could see a silhouette sitting on Ranjit's bed reclining over him, speaking to him in low
Tones. She had to remove blanket from her head and ears to be able to listen to him. And when she listened she could not believe her own ears. She wished she had not listened, but she was thankful for the circumstances that made it possible to hear this.
She thanked Rajinder for removing the attachments from guest room's door so that she came and slept here. She thanked her destiny to make her privy to this. She would not have believed if some one else would have told her this. Listening with her own ears, witnessing in first person made her realize how apt this step of hers was-this decision of hers of leaving everything behind to come back, to return for the safety and better future of Ranjit. She could not have done anything better than this for him. Of course he too had his own destiny to chart but she could never have forgiven herself if she had not listened to her parents or Raja Ram and thus returned.
Rajinder was saying almost in whispers, “Look! now you have seen how I have made your mother bow in front of me. If you too do not listen to me, I can do worse than this. I can throw the two of you out of this house. I will keep everything in it. You two will be left on the streets with nothing. You two will beg of me and I will turn my back on both of you. You have not seen yet the whole of me. I can even make you beg on the streets of this city if Want to...The two of you.”
She was cold with terror and disdain. She stayed motion less lest he finds her. Thankfully the child was in deep sleep. She felt relieved at the moment that he had not listened. But many years later she came to know that he was listening all the time but feigned being asleep. She waited in anticipation but it seemed Rajinder felt satisfied after conveying his feelings to his sleeping son. Oblivious of her presence so close in the same room, he got up, left the room and closed the door with a loud thud. Mehar realized she was sweating heavily, her heart pounding; she removed blanket and spent most of the night waking and thinking almost of nothing. She felt numb now, no thoughts would come to her.
Like many other things this was something she had to sort out on her own. She could not share it with anyone. Those who cared would be pained more and those who did not care, would not believe. She woke up before the alarm rang. She hurriedly collected her makeshift bed, replaced everything back where it belonged, woke up both Tarabai and Ranjit, made two cups of tea and sat in the
Living room sipping one and kept the other on the table in front of her. Rajinder walked out of the bedroom, looked at her, threw a smile, she could not read much in that smile. He went out, brought newspapers, gave her Indian Express to her and sat with the other paper and his cup of tea close to her on sofa. She was through with her tea by now. She got up and entered her bedroom.
By the time she came out Ranjit was ready having his milk. It was about time for the school bus to arrive at the bend of the road in front of her house. This was the regular stop for many children living close by and very convenient for Mehar. As the bus slowed down near the corner, excited children's voices talking among themselves could be heard like chirping of birds. She felt happy deep inside. There is no sound as refreshing as the sound of children talking excitedly.
She stood inside her gate and saw Ranjit getting into school bus. She heard him being welcomed aloud by many of his friends. She could feel him grinning with sparkling eyes. She felt delighted, her aching heartfelt some relief. She waved and many children waved back to her. Her morning was made. She went inside feeling gratitude for these little angles, she knew many of them would be thinking of mischief all the time, but compared to what grownups do sometimes what these little creatures do, they could never be beyond being loved unconditionally. She was certain of.
She sat for a while reading the newspaper. Then got up to go into kitchen to get the breakfast ready, when Rajinder came out of the bedroom freshly showered, his hair and beard undone. He came straight towards her smiling widely. She did not know how to respond. She kept looking at him without any expression. He reached very close to her and embraced her. She felt awkward and wriggled herself out of his arms. He allowed her to. She felt herself shivering. She was scared. She felt a very ominous and foul feeling about it. She could not pinpoint but she felt deep inside her something more brewing in the garb of this show of affection. She kept thinking about it while helping Tarabai to prepare breakfast.
Afterwards when she was through with her morning schedule including a shower and discussion about what to prepare for lunch with Tarabai, Mehar did not know what to do. She wanted to spend time away from Rajinder's gaze. He was at home and was continuously watching her. She felt uncomfortable under his
Watchful eyes. She could not understand why he had not attended hospital that day. But she did not want to ask him. She was not sure of opening up a conversation with him right now. She did not know in which direction it would go. She had absolutely no clue about her own life at this juncture. She wanted to postpone things a little more to understand where she stood in these circumstances.
She had only one thing at stake as of now, her son's well being. At least she could think of this only. She had forgotten many things. She had forgotten that she was a young woman desired by many. She had forgotten that she was a known name in these two towns where she belonged. She had forgotten that she aroused both fear and lust in Rajinder's mind as he had told her a few times earlier. She did not know that this dual attraction of opposite nature was a deadly combination in a man's mind who had been brought up with a set of values where women are not supposed to have their individual identities. She did not know what was happening inside Rajinder's brain at that point of time. In fact no one had an inkling of it. If they had, she would not be here sharing space and breathing in the same air as Rajinder.
She spent that morning and forenoon occupied in trivial things to do inside house. She cleaned all the dust visible and invisible form pictures and paintings hung form walls, from behind furniture, from behind curtains, from behind doors-a task she was not very fond of but often indulged in to keep her mind off from pressing things, or to keep herself occupied in some manual work so that her mind could do its own bidding. It wandered in each and every direction. It wandered everywhere it could. She saw glimpses of her past, quick and fast small snippets, she could not catch much about. She swam through the day without feeling much.
Ranjit returned from school at lunch time. They had lunch, the three of them like a family after a long time. Both Ranjit and Rajinder looked happy. Mehar too tried hard to feel some elation from within but failed miserably. She did not force herself to put on a false smile. She did participate but a part of her remained aloof, watching and listening minutely to every step Rajinder took, to every word he uttered. For this part was not convinced with what Mehar was looking at with her eyes. This part of Mehar, she had cultivated during the period of her internal growth was smelling something which was not comfortable to reckon with. Mehar did try
to put it to sleep but she realized that would not be in her interest, so she became a party to it, listening to its every cue.
She settled down in living room for the afternoon in front of television. Ranjit soon joined her with his bag to ask her help with his homework. This was a homely scene. Ranjit was delighted so was Mehar but deep inside her something ominous was tossing and turning. She could not pinpoint it. But once again she felt something was coming her way. Something unpleasant. She was tired from within. She did not have the will or courage to face more. She tried to put it aside, but it rose its head. She tried to look at it head on. It whispered her to be wary and hid behind thick curtains of future. Exasperated she put her head on the back of the sofa and tried to put her fears at rest. She did not know when she reclined there itself and dozed off.
Evening came with its usual hues and odors Mehar was familiar with. Evenings in a desert city in summers have very special attraction for only those who had lived there for a long time or are born and brought up to know. As the sun makes headway towards west and begins to descend in the sky, the heat makes you sweat more. Afternoons are most dull periods of the day here. Almost negligible activity on the streets, dryness all around, in the air, in sun rays, in the sky, on the earth, parched mud, parched lips, birds and animals in hiding.
Those who are brave to venture out without an air conditioned vehicle do with their head, face and all parts of the body fully covered. Bellies are filled with chhaach (buttermilk) or lime water. People here generally avoid eating solid food while the heat is at its peak. Raabrhee, made with coarsely ground maize boiled in butter milk is served for lunch in many traditional households here.
As the evenings approaches people begin to come out of their shelters, sweating but enjoying heat. Evenings are tea time, boiled properly with milk, water, sugar and tea leaves all at once for a good five minutes to a thick and rich consistency. This tea is accompanied by bhujia made of moth daal, kachories and samosas, made fresh for this hour at all sweet shops, as well as at some corner shops. There is a saying in desert that heat kills heat on the lines of the expression that a “diamond is cut by a diamond only”. Mehar too had experienced this. She had discovered long time back that hot
evening become quite tolerable after a hot cup of tea with a few mouth fulls of Bikaneri bhujia.
She had just woken up from her siesta feeling lumpy and bogged down, unable to locate herself in her house after a long gap, in uncomfortable circumstances. She was about to ask Tarabai for some tea, when she walked in with the tray carrying tea and daal kachories, her favorite. She looked at her with questioning eyes. Tarabai announced with pride and fondness that Rajinder had gone out a few minutes back to get some and was coming to join her for tea.
Mehar said to herself, “This man is scaring me out of my wits.”
To everyone else around her it seemed like Rajinder wanted badly to make amends, but somehow Mehar was not able to see any of his gestures straight, more so after his last night's outburst in Ranjit's room over his sleeping form. Mehar too would not have doubted his intentions if she had not been witness to that. But after hearing all that she could not digest this plain show of affection, which she had never been at the receiving end during her married life. A part of her asked her to enjoy till it lasted, another part asked her to watch her step.
She asked Tarabai to bring Ranjit's milk along with her own tea there itself. As they sipped tea Rajinder wanted to know why she was not eating kachories. She told him she seldom ate those at that hour, she would eat later when she would feel hungry. She loved her sweet cup-pa on its own. She sipped and watched Rajinder eating with his usual loud sounds. She felt relief that Ranjit had not picked this habit from him and ate with minimum possible sound for a young boy of his age. She had even been able to make Tarabai learn to eat smoothly.
As the evening became colder Mehar felt an uneasiness approaching with it. Rajinder did not seem to be in a mood to go out or even for his scheduled evening hospital round. Finally without asking he told her that he now has his weekly off on Mondays instead of Sundays as earlier. She felt relieved to know that next day she would be on her own to think and realign her life one more time. This adjusting and readjusting had been happening quite often to her by now. But there were many a slips before the cup reached her lips. There lay one night studded between these two shores that she had to transcend through.
She knew her body and her mind well enough by now to let it be claimed by anyone let alone by Rajinder. She was her own master now. She knew now that like her soul, like her conscious, very much like her existence in this world, her body too belonged to herself. No one else could have access to it without her approval. She also had risen to the fact that after her soul her body was the most precious tool she possessed to make her journey of life feasible. Its pleasures and displeasure were her own responsibility and she was more than willing to bear it. She had no intention of doling out this responsibility to anyone else... For the rest of her life for that matter. It did not matter anymore if she was legally married to Rajinder or not.
She wanted Rajinder to understand this fact. She also knew that he would not. She decided to sleep in her own bedroom that night. She asked Ranjit to come to her bedroom with his English book after dinner, she wanted him to read for her, as she used to make him do, after he had learned enough to read and she did not have to read to him. But earlier it used to be Ranjit's room. Rajinder looked alarmed but he remained quiet. All happened the way she wanted-both mother and son lying down on bed, Ranjit reading, Mehar listening, Rajinder waiting impatiently sitting in the chair. After the reading was over Ranjit was sleepy. He wanted to spend night in his parent's bedroom. Mehar happily agreed, she was delighted her plan worked well. Rajinder realized he was defeated. He got up to spend the night in the guestroom.
One more night of discomfort out of her way, Mehar slept blissfully. She woke up in the morning to feel refreshed and do her motherly duties. Her day was filled with more activity as she felt better equipped now to deal with life. She had planned to visit her few friends to chalk out what she could do and how could she could pick up threads again. She did that till lunch time and was back home to share the table with Ranjit. To her surprise Rajinder too was home for lunch, to add more to it Dr. Gupta too had come with him. Mrs. Gupta was out of town and he wanted to meet Mehar. She was genuinely delighted to see him. That afternoon turned out to be a pleasant one.
After a short siesta, when all of them were sitting having tea around six in the evening, there was a call from village home. The news was not good. Rajinder's father, who a few months back had a heart attack and was recuperating from its effects to go in for an
Open heart surgery, had another heart attack. He passed away on the way to town hospital. They had to leave for village home immediately. His last rites would be performed early next morning.
Mehar got busy with the preparation for travel. She packed her and Ranjit's bags and asked Tarabai to pack some light dinner and drinking water for the way. She asked Rajinder if he wanted her to pack his bag for him. He was sitting in a chair all this while holding his head in his hands. Dr. Gupta was sitting by his side trying in vain to console him. He was blaming himself for his father's death.
He felt that if he had not been here at Bikaner trying to put his family life back to order, if he had been with his father in village home, he could have saved him. Dr. Gupta was trying hard to make him see reason. He even asked him if he meant to stay in the village home for the last three months ever since the time he had his last attack. Rajinder did not answer to that but continued blaming himself. Soon he began to blame his son Ranjit in between his sobs. He blamed Ranjit for forcing him to bring his mother back home. He felt that this made him stay away from his own father resulting in this eventuality.
Ranjit listened to this and protested that he did not do that. He spoke in a loud voice that his father asked him to tell Mehar to come back, to tell her that he was sorry and he cried for her. Poor boy was in for a shock. He could not contain himself any longer. He shouted that he never saw him crying for her but he lied for his father wanted him to lie.
Mehar was dumbfounded. She was visibly shaken. She felt the ground beneath her feet shaking. She sat down. She felt an urgent need and desire to get out of this house and this mess of a life the very instant. She wanted to shriek loudly and run out of the front door never to return, never to turn her face towards it, never in her life.
But she also knew that this was not possible. She simply could not do this. All three of them had to attend her father-in-law's burial and cremation. She had to make sure that Rajinder and Ranjit lent their shoulder as pall bearers. She too had to attend the ceremonies that was performed after a soul departed this earth. She was by all means still the old man's daughter-in-law.
She kept her mouth shut. She asked Dr. Gupta with folded hands to leave this ugly scene. He too was waiting eagerly for such a request. He left immediately after assuring that he will inform his office and Rajinder need not worry about that. He even phoned one of his friends' to reach there soon to drive the family to village home, as this friend too belonged to a nearby village.
After all arrangements were in place, Mehar sat down to think but she could not. She was shaken beyond herself..And that seemed after they had reached the village home and most of the formalities were over. She lulled herself to some false peace. She had learned this art as she was growing in years and learning to take more and more in her stride.
Ranjit seemed to talk to her about his conduct though non- verbally. She simply asked him to sit beside him and put her arm around his shoulder. The boy was feeling sorry. His body language was reeking of apology for his conduct. She patted him to assure that he should not worry. She told him in words that he should not think much about this. She will handle from now on. He will not have to say or listen to anything that did not concern his own life. The boy looked relieved. This put Mehar to peace, she needed badly at this point of time.
She had to think. She had to think hard. She had to think positive to overcome these huge hurdles she had suddenly seen blocking her life. She had to walk ahead. She decided to not to stagnate anymore. She decided to jump the fence, no matter how much more she is bruised in this process. She was not worried at all. She once again realized that what she would lose would be very little in comparison to what she would gain. She was once again braving herself to take the gamble. She was not sure who would be on her side of the fence. But she was getting herself mentally prepared to jump the fence. She put her mind on the track to foresee the consequences, so that she would be ready to face them.
