BETTER HUMAN THAN TRUE
(SHORT
STORY)
By
S. KRISHNAMOORTHY, M.A.
It
was a pleasant surprise for me to get letters from Raghu and Shanthi inviting
me for Rekha’s marriage. It was a surprise because, accustomed as I was to
thinking of Rekha as a chubby young girl of five revelling in mischievous
pranks, the message jerked me into the realisation that the child of my
imagination had blossomed into a charming young thing, in the course of the
twelve long years which had elapsed since the time when I had been Raghu’s
neighbour in Rampur.
Raghu’s
charge that I had forgotten him could not fail to bring a smile to my lips. I
was a queer fellow, he had argued, I was wandering from place to place and
meeting new people and so could not reasonably be expected to remember: Raghu
who was just one of my numerous acquaintances! True, I was queer and was
practically a nomad, wandering about without moorings. There was justice in
what Raghu had said. But the poor fellow did not know that my connection with
his family meant something to me. But for this, Rampur would have been just one
of the many places–small and big–where I had pitched my tents for a short time
till I got tired of the familiar place and faces, and my inherent wander-lust
asserted itself once again and took me in search of strange surroundings.
I
can’t say I got any kick out of this eternal search for novelty in life; but
true it is that Rekha left a silver trail of dazzling light in my otherwise
humdrum life. I had always loved children. I don’t know what drew me to them;
perhaps it was because I found in them a kindred spirit. I shared with them a
spirit of restlessness and eagerness for something ever new. But was not
prepared to go to the extent of having children of my own. Our hopes and
ambitions have very often a knack of turning out to be mere chimeras in
practical life and I was not, prepared to have my sweet dream blown to pieces;
nor did I consider the advantages which a sweet wife and a cosy home can give
to be sufficient compensation for the stagnation and loss of liberty that a
married life would mean. Raghu used to chaff me on this point.
“You want to enjoy the rose without the thorn,” he would say with a wink…..
But
for my attachment to Rekha, I would not have become intimate with Raghu and his
wife; they would have remained merely my neighbours. Rekha was a cute, little
thing, remarkably lively, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was too
clever for her age. She took to me as to a childhood friend and was at her best
in playing with me. Raghu was a fond father and doted on her. It was this love
for Rekha that brought us together. We became very good chums and I was a
constant visitor to his house.
I
had frequent opportunities of observing Raghu’s family life. I have never met a
happier couple. The kind of idyllic life described by poets was his. And
Shanthi, what an appropriate name for that calm beauty, sweet gravity and
delicate grace! It was one of those happy strokes of fate that had induced her
parents to pitch upon that name. Rekha too was very beautiful, but her beauty
was worlds different from that of Shanthi. And even a superficial observer
could not fail to feel the difference. Shanthi’s was the profound calmness of a
blue lake set in the midst of silent mountains; Rekha’s was the boisterous
onrush of a mountain-river coursing along eagerly to meet the sea.
But
my interest in Shanthi was not for her beauty. I am a peculiar man, and
physical beauty does not have any fascination, for me. I have lived a bachelor
all my life, and I have never regretted it. I was interested in Shanthi as a
doctor would be in a patient whose malady baffles his scientific analysis.
Shanthi was a challenge to me. I had long flattered myself as one who had an
insight into the nature of men and things. There was some basis for this high
opinion of myself. Wherever I lived I used to try to forget my boredom by
opening, a free dispensary, where I had an opportunity to move with all sorts
of people–most of them poor–and could therefore claim to know something of
life, down to earth. And the praises that my friends had lavishly bestowed on
me had only served to confirm me in my complacent mood about my powers of
observation.
Yet
that tinge of melancholy–yes, melancholy it was, if I ever knew it–in Shanthi’s
eyes I could not account for. It was baffling! What unforgettable thing had
happened to her that it had left so strong an impression on her delicate
nature? Surely that had nothing to do with poverty or other ordinary
misfortunes of life, for I heard that she belonged to an affluent family. She
lacked nothing at her home and Raghu was an ideal husband. Then...?
As
time passed I grew more and more certain that there was a story behind it or I
did not know anything at all. I could swear that her tender heart was nursing
within itself some canker of a grief, a sad memory, which it would fain forget
but could not.
I
observed something more too. On careful observation I saw, or imagined I saw,
that maternal love, which people talk so much about, was not much in evidence
in her. Her relations with Rekha appeared quite normal. She fondled and spoiled
her daughter as mothers are wont to do, but I could sense that she had to make
an effort to cuddle Rekha and her love for Rekha did not appear to be
spontaneous.
In
my attempts to arrive at an explanation for the mystery about Shanthi, I drew
Raghu out in conversation but no clue to the solution of the puzzle could be
had. I had never believed in the ‘father-fixation’ and ‘mother-fixation’
theories of Freud and had considered them sheer moonshine. Could it be that
Shanthi was jealous of Rekha for enjoying so much of Raghu’s love, a love which
she considered her monopoly? No, I could never reconcile myself to this
explanation. It did not at all fit in with the idea I had formed of her
character. I was no nearer the solution and was groping in the dark……
It
was quite unexpectedly that Sekhar dropped in at my dispensary as from a clear
blue sky. I was very glad to see him after such a long interval. It seemed that
he had come on business and happened to hear that I was living here.
Sekhar
had been an intimate friend of mine when we were studying medicine in Saugar.
Friendship between us was a marvel to others, for we two
were as different as two people can be. I was what you might call the serious
sort, whereas Sekhar was levity incarnate. A perfect example of
glamour and grace, he was irresistible to Women. It was an open secret that the
‘co-eds’ were mad after him. When sometimes I took the liberty of friendship
and charged him with trifling with girls, he assumed an air of outraged
innocence and said, “I am helpless, my dear boy. I never set out to make a
conquest. They fall for me of their own accord. What can I do?” You cannot be
offended with a frank man.
Perhaps
our mutual affection was not in spite of the difference in our temperaments but
because of it, each admiring the other for the
qualities one did not possess oneself. Our ways had parted when our studies
came to an end, and I was seeing him after about fifteen years’ interval. We
had a lot to talk about. We recalled the gusto of our student-days and revelled
in it. I did not like to let go of this opportunity to re-live the past and
suggested that he stay with me for some time.
“For
all I know, your idea of a nice time will be pure contemplation and philosophy,
and I have no sympathy with that sort of thing,” Sekhar said in his usual frank
way. “A week with you will do no harm. But longer you will prove an
insufferable bore.” He laughed and I joined in the laughter.
Just then Raghu came in. He used to come to the dispensary whenever he had leisure in his office which was in the next street. It appeared that Sekhar and Raghu had known each other earlier. The effusive way in which they greeted each other showed that they had been fairly intimate. But I somehow got the impression that there was just a hint of embarrassment and constraint in Sekhar’s behaviour, but Raghu was too glad of the meeting to notice it. Raghu explained to me that he had worked for a few years in Saugar where he became intimately acquainted with Sekhar.
“I
am so glad to meet you, Sekhar,” Raghu gushed forth. “I hope you can stay with
me for a few days. Shanthi is doing fine, and I would like you to see Rekha, my
daughter….”
“No”,
no, I am sorry I can’t stay. I am due to take the Deccan Express. I shall come
some other time,” Sekhar Intervened.
“I
could not keep back my surprise. “Come, no excuses now. Just now you had agreed
to stay at least a week with me.”
Sekhar did not allow me to continue. “Did I say so, my boy? You’ve misunderstood me,” he said coolly. “I only said that I can stay with you some other time. I shall force myself on both of you when I return. Are you satisfied?”
“Can’t
you spare half-an-hour?” Raghu asked in disappointment. “Just see Rekha and
return.”
“Ah,
there is the fond father!” Sekhar laughed. “But there’s absolutely no time, my
boy. I have already been detained. Wait for a week. I shall stay with you so
long that you will regret having invited me.”
Raghu
went away soon after, as he had work in the office. I knew that Sekhar’s change
of mind was due to Raghu and I was determined to get to the bottom of the
matter. As soon as we were alone I came out with, “What made you change your
mind, Sekhar? Are you afraid of Raghu?”
“No,”
Sekhar’s voice’ was unusually grave. “But I am afraid of his wife.”
I
could not believe my own ears.
Seeing
the puzzled disbelief in my eyes, he continued in the same solemn tone, “Well,
you cannot understand. I ought to explain…..It happened about six years ago. It
is needless to expatiate to you on Shanthi’s beauty. But knowing so much about
women, I can tell you that there was something in her gravity and delicacy that
was alluring and irresistible. She was quite different from the shallow, flashy
and sensation-mongering girls whom I had met, and this was what attracted me to
her. Till then I had felt no necessity to run after women. But here I could not
resist the temptation to make advances which were firmly repelled. But I was
not one to take the initial reverses to heart; in fact, they only provided a
tang for my pursuit….
“Raghu
and I were good friends. I knew that Shanthi would try her best to wean him
away from me, but I was sure that her modesty would not allow her to reveal my
wicked passion for her. That was my strength, and you know how adept I am at
making friends and keeping them. And fortunately for me, the simple, child-like
Raghu was too good to suspect anything.
“I
don’t know why I should be telling you all this. Perhaps the rankling memory of
my wickedness has been torturing my subconscious all along; and my mind is
trying to unburden itself of this oppressive load to a friend I could trust.
You may think what you like of me, for you cannot think worse of me than I
think of myself. Lust blinded me to the heinousness of my crime and the
enormity of my ingratitude to my friend Raghu. Shanthi was so desirable and her
beauty was a siren-song I could not resist……Circumstances too were favourable.
Raghu was living in a house quite out of the way and he had to go frequently on
tour. I utilised one such opportunity and had her struggling body.
“I
can never forget those terrified eyes of hers–eyes that were wont to be serene
and calm. However much I try to forget, I can never live clown the memory of
those eyes, seething with contempt, haunting me like a dreadful nightmare….I
had not the courage to meet her again. I went away from Saugar soon after, and
when I returned some months later I was relieved to hear that
Raghu had been transferred…..And he was speaking of a daughter. How old is she?
Sekhar asked suddenly.
I
had not been listening to his last words. A sudden, staggering revelation was
borne in upon me. That twinkle in Rekha’s eyes, that mischievous
curl in her lips were Sekhar’s!…..However, I had enough presence of mind to
mumble, “Oh, she’s just three Years old.”
I
went home that evening a changed man, heavy with the weight of an unwanted
confession. If only I had the power to recall time! I would have been content
to remain in blissful ignorance of the cause of Shanthi’s melancholy. Shanthi!”
I could not help venerating her. I had always looked upon women as tender, weak
creatures, fragile like porcelain dolls, and Shanthi’s courage left me
spellbound. For a Hindu woman of exquisite sensibility and culture, to be the
victim of a lustful beast, to suffer eternally the disgusting memory of a
painful episode, to see her fond husband cuddling another’s child as his own,
and yet to know that both she and the child were not to blame–what strength of
mind and fortitude are called for! A man would sink under the sheer weight of
the dreadful responsibility!
For
myself, to be in possession of a fatal secret which, if revealed in an
unguarded moment, would spell the ruin of three innocent lives, was too much
for me. When Raghu returned from office he came straight to me and began to
reminisce on the happy days in Saugar with Sekhar and how agreeable and loving
he was. I felt the impulse to interrupt his eager narrating and shout, “You poor
deluded man! Sekhar is not really the man you think. He is a viper, a beast, an
abominable ingrate…….” It was a miracle that I was able to hold my tongue.
I
left Rampur soon after…..Yes, I could not trust myself always. I was not that
strong. The very simplicity of Raghu would have wrung from my anguished soul
Sekhar’s confession in an attempt to disabuse his mind of the high opinion he
had of Sekhar. Then…..I shuddered to think of the consequences……So I made the
best of a bad situation by running away.”
I
did not attend Rekha’s marriage. I sent as my present a book in which I wrote,
“Truth is sometimes cruel. On those occasions it is better to be human than
true.”