A RIDDLE

(A short story)

P. PADMARAJU

(Translated from the original in Telugu by B. SYAMALA RAO)

In fact it is a headache giving job for Professor Ramgopal to teach Chemistry in that small college. He has dislike as well as repulsion on the colourless and tasteless teaching profession. His students and colleagues too would call him Professor, though he never liked to be called so. The word ‘Professor’ reminds him of the black stone statue in the college compound. In his view that statue, with marked lines absolutely devoid of humanity, stood as a symbol of the solid wisdom of library. Ramgopal is highly active and enthusiastic. His activity appears quite visible at times. At other times it appears to be fictitious. Such change from naturality to pretension comes in unexpectedly and automatically. Therefore his pretension too is considered natural among known circles.

He has no leaps and bounds when among men of his status. He would behave with dashing spirits. He would take away from the neighbour’s plate any desirable foodstuffs. He would behave in all familiarity with strangers. He would crack jokes at himself and feels highly delighted within himself. He would behave in a highly sophisticated way if he scents the presence of ladies. Right from the gestures of the hands and feet to the art of talking with the throat, everything works as if tightened. He would begin every word with apologies. He would begin to smile even when it does not stir out. He affects enthusiasm to conceal his perplexity. He would make a gentle rebuke that he has not much confidence on women’s intelligence. However, he is a source of delight in general for all women. His highly daring views, however dreadful, make others feel that they are not his personal views and that he is rather uttering in a jocular vein. The college authorities did not much mind when they came to know of his eccentric views. Perhaps they too might have disregarded them under the impression that a barking dog does not generally bite.

There was one main reason for Ramgopal’s influence. He was aged twenty-five years. He was not yet married. Any number of attempts were made by the brides’ fathers to become his fathers-in-law. Ramgopal challenged the general principle that a youth of twenty years in those parts could not keep up bachelordom.

Therefore the incidents that led to the sudden dismissal of Ramgopal from college caused surprise to one and all–even to Ramgopal too.

One day as he was lecturing on chemical compounds, “those eyes” troubled him for the first time. He was very enthusiastically lecturing about the aspect of the natural and powerful attraction in between two opposing forces. He had taken up various examples from nature. Suddenly he stopped his lecture. For a moment he even forgot as to what he was lecturing about. “Those darting eyes” were looking into his eyes attentively. They appeared as if concentrating on his back far off. He felt irritated. He put a question to “those eyes.”

“What aspect did I tell you now?”

The girl (“those eyes”) stood up. She dropped her head down and said, “Excuse me. I did not listen.”

Ramgopal found her drooping eyes slightly moistened. It is but natural for her to shed tears for thus being insulted in the entire class. Ramgopal felt repentant for having put that question. Somehow he continued the lesson for that hour. But he could not get his original mood for that day.

Even after the expiry of the hour, those eyes were haunting him for a long time. Though he knows the faces of his students, he does not generally remember their names. Hence he specially remembered her name while taking attendance in the practical class. Her name was Radha. Ramgopal was gazing at her with wistful looks, all throughout the class for the entire two hours. He admired her in his mind when she did the experiment quite skilfully and neatly. When she approached him with her note-book, he made a casual remark,

“My dear students, write records and other things neatly. I do not know the reason why you take these science groups. The study of science requires potentialities in the brain.”

“Sir, are there are no well-known scientists among ladies like Madam Curie,” she said.

Ramgopal replied with a gentle smile, “She is not so much of a lady.”

Unexpectedly as Radha shouted “Ah!” their conversation stopped. Ramgopal looked down. Ink spilled like a cluster on the fold of his new pant. The broken pen of Radha lay near his foot. Radha felt very much for the same. She expressed regrets for her ignorance. Ramgopal however simply said that it did not matter much. Only one doubt stick to his mind–that the pen had not fallen down from her hands, by itself.

Various minute incidents that latter happened, intensified Ramgopal’s doubt further. But he could not get sufficient evidence to testify the truth of the doubts in his mind. Everything appears trivial and innocent if carefully observed. But something strange strikes his mind a bout her gestures, eyes, cheeks and the peculiar tunes ringing in her throat when she was speaking with him. Even though he would bend down while going, her body would touch him unawares in between the small spaces of the laboratory tables. At times she used to approach him to allay her meaningless and silly doubts. While taking the record-book from his hand, her hands would touch his hands even though there was no necessity. However much confident Ramgopal was with the firmness of his heart, these small incidents did not but trouble him. Whether she was in his presence or not, thoughts about her encompassed him day by day. He used to explain to himself as if he was perceiving and enjoying all the show she was putting forth.

During Dasara Vacation, he went on an excursion to Papi Hills taking along with him some students. Radha was also among them. The fact that his doubts were not mere doubts was proved by an incident that happened there. He was bathing in the river along with boy students. All the ladies sat on the jag of a mountain leaning over the water and were looking at them. Suddenly he heard a cry and a sound. He looked back. A lady was floating in the water, tossing up and down the waves at a distance of four or five yards. He caught hold of her in two fathoms and lifted her head up. She was Radha. She lay unconscious. He bore her on his shoulders and brought her to the shore. As he was ascending the bank, her left hand encircled his neck. It did not at all appear as if it was done in an unconscious state. Though he could by no means prove it, he perfectly knew that she was quite in her senses.

The latest incident happened on one night in the dark. There was some function in the college that day. At the end of the meeting, when all the ladies and the guests had gone, he assigned the respective duties to the peons and started home. There was a short-cut route to reach the road from the college, through a big mango grove. Even though it was pitch dark, as it was quite a familiar route, Ramgopal walked along the footpath. Suddenly some tender body–the entire body, right from head to feet–touched him. He was perplexed with that touch in this brisk walk and would have fallen flat, but luckily escaped it.

“I could not see you in the dark, Master...” Radha’s voice embarrassed him.

His mind was heat-oppressed. Various irrelevant fancies swelled in his mind like a surging ocean. In this lonely short-cut route, Radha, after all the ladies and guests departed (moreover, that was not the way to her house) why was she there! For what purpose! Ramgopal did not know for himself what he was doing in that instant. In his blind excitement he closely pressed Radha to his heart. Radha gave a big shout which echoed through the entire grove. A battery tight was focussed on both of them–from some where. He was shocked. He withdrew his hands from Radha. She began to cry and proceed towards the battery light. Sweat-drops formed on his forehead. He knew nothing of the confusion that later took place. He could not recollect anything.

The next day when the Principal sent word for Ramgopal, he met him. Whenever he was to disclose a critical issue, the Principal would drop off the important words. It would be quite irritable to hear such never-ending sentences.

“Look here. It is most regrettable...your issue causes us…it is a highly regrettable event....”

When Ramgopal heard the word “regrettable”, for the sixth time, he could not tolerate, but spoke rather seriously.

“However much regrettable the issue might be, I submit that my views are not so regrettable.”

“No, no. Not that way! In this issue ... to discuss ... this regrettable issue ... We have thought over this from various angles…”

Even before the Principal completed the sentence, Ramgopal handed over his resignation letter to him and went away. After putting forth the actual issue and giving caution to Ramgopal over the moral aspect of this, the Principal prepared a long speech. But that opportunity was lost because of Ramgopal’s resignation letter.

After leaving that college Ramgopal did not seek for a job in any other college. This episode would spread everywhere. Wherever he goes for a job he will have to offer explanation about this affair. Whatever he says, each one will have his own suspicions. But in affairs of this sort, sympathy will naturally be towards the girl. He does not like accepting defeat in the hands of an young girl by being ensnared in her trap. He decided to conquer this world–especially the world of women–by doing something or other. As marriage comes in the way of his ideal, he decided to abstain himself from marriage. He got several scientific books about the mental make-up of women and started reading them. Later on he began writing essays and stories with authority on that aspect.

Ramgopal earned a name as the unparalleled expert in the country, on the aspects of the nature of men and women. It was even said that there were no other than Ramgopal in measuring the depths of the woman’s mind. Hundreds of men and women began approaching him with varieties of problems and for their solutions. In his writings, a peculiar attitude–a mixture of lenience and sympathy that he shows towards women–has specially attracted the people. There were no others who could so clearly and skilfully expatiate as to how woman’s mind in the civilised society travels in different and very strange directions and under the superficial skill, various uncivilised mental characteristics burn like volcanoes in her.

No other had so much esteem and influence as he had in the civilised society, in the refined houses, in the assemblies of genii, in the academies of poets and musicians and in clubs. In particular, he was worthy of being worshipped by all civilised women. Everyday some Zamindarini, or some Secretary of Ladies Association or some Minister’s wife would invite him for dinner. Though outwardly he shows respect for women, Ramgopal wreaks his vengeance internally upon the entire race by exhibiting his dislike. He feels highly proud that he could achieve his desired purpose at long last.

His writings have earned him money besides influence. Without being aware of any type of dissatisfaction and with no remission to his name and fame, he stepped into old age.

The main principle in his life–in the daily struggle in between men and women–that takes place with strange weapons, generally the male gets defeated. Every male, beyond twenty-five years that enters into the family pilgrimage, makes his manliness a prey to the slavery of women. As he was the only person perhaps that could understand the attitudes of women, he would keep up his manliness without yielding to their weapons. Not merely that–he had acquired such strength by which he could render the women that came near him disarmed. Many women were prepared to serve him with pleasure if alone he had winked at them. He had thus achieved final victory upon women.

One day as he was conversing with the Collector’s wife in the club, a gentleman came and introduced himself. He told them that he was the Sub-Judge and that he had taken charge that day only in that town. From the time he came there, nobody could get the chance to speak. He was of Ramgopal’s age. He did not know how to conduct himself in the highly civilised society–he was not clever enough. There was innocence coupled with dignity in his conversation. Ramgopal could easily understand that his heart was as stout as his body that sat tight in the chair. The Collector’s wife bent down her face a little, for the privacy between her and Ramgopal was being disturbed. Ramgopal perceived it. But the Sub-Judge did not notice it. Moreover he began talking about his wife. In the civilised world, no gentleman would speak of his wife before another lady. But the Sub-Judge was not aware of it. The Collector’s wife rose up.

“Mr. Ram, come to our house to dine with us to-night,” she said.

“Alas! I forgot to tell,” the Sub-Judge obstructed him, “He is coming to our house for supper. My wife asked me to bring him personally.”

“I leave it to him. I have invited him first,” so saying the Collector’s wife went away.

“She seems to have become angry,” the Sub-Judge said. Ramgopal laughed within himself.

“I shall feel glad if you can come to our house. The reason is, to-day is my wife’s birthday. She feels particularly happy if you come to dine with us. Shall I go and convince the Collect wife?” said the Sub-Judge.

“No. It does not look nice.” Ramgopal thought a little.

“Mr. Ramgopal, my wife repeatedly asked me to bring you home positively. It seems she was your student, when you were working in the college.”

“Oh! I see!”

Ramgopal’s curiosity triumphed over his doubts. Perhaps he might not even recognise her. But still he had a deep longing to see her. In those days–in his younger days–she should have at least heard about his strange episode. Afterwards she should have been amazed to see him from a distance soaring high into the zenith by his self-effort. She would begin to think whether it was the same Ramgopal that was then insulted in the college. How could the blending be formed in her mind between his younger image and the present one? How would she equate the old fool and the present genius?

“I shall surely come. I shall convince the Collector’s wife,” said Ramgopal.

Scarcely did he enter the Sub-judge’s house, when Radha came forward and welcomed him. Ramgopal was dumbfounded for a while. Except for the lapse of years, the original Radha–the Radha that he knew–stood thus in the same way with her glances, smiles and movements.

“Come in, Sir!” Radha invited him quite normally and affectionately. Ramgopal went in and sat like a statue in the chair. After tasting the lime-juice placed by her on the table in front of him, he recovered a little and a gentle smile began to dance on his lips. He got back his mental stability after recovering from his stupor. He too participated pleasantly in their endless conversation.

She showed all her seven children to him. The eldest daughter was married. She was brought home for delivery. Her name was Rama. The name struck quite surprising to Ramgopal. The second was a son. He had appeared for the B. A. examination. His name was Gopal. These two names rather troubled Ramgopal’s mind a little. Ramgopal did not hear the names of other children.

During meals, the Sub-Judge innocently laughed and said “My wife told me everything about you. It seems you left off your job itself on account of your deep love for her.”

It struck Ramgopal’s mind–for a while–to narrate all that he knew about Radha before her husband. Without giving him that opportunity, her husband said,

“My wife says that she alone was responsible for your present eminence. If she had not slighted you then like that, she says, you would never have attained your present glory.”

As they were chewing the betel leaves, word came from the District Judge to the Sub-Judge asking him to meet him once. While going out, the Sub-Judge repeatedly told Ramgopal to stay on till he returned.

Radha lulled the children to sleep and sat opposite to Ramgopal, when he asked.

“Why did you tell your husband that I was fond of you?” Radha looked innocently at him–those looks darted by his side and were concentrated at a distance behind him. Suddenly the scene–that he first noticed in those looks in the college lecture hall–came back to Ramgopal’s mind. Radha said “Was it not true then?”

After a lapse of nearly thirty years, Ramgopal was again perplexed in the presence of a lady. He held his slackening mental stability and asked,

“Tell me honestly, Radha! Why did you shout that night?”

“Oh! I felt terribly afraid as to what you would do?”

“Why did you excite me like that then?”

“Me! Oh! Sir! What you write about women is all sheer falsehood. If you believe all that to be true, it is a big blunder...you don’t know anything about ladies.”

“Is it so!” Ramgopal said with a mischievous tone.

Radha continued quite unnoticed. Ramgopal looked at her and listened to her. “I don’t know. Perhaps you mistook that I excited you. I was quite a simpleton! Sir, I didn’t know how others would view at my words and actions. Moreover I was too young then. God only knows how long I wept on that night.”

Her face–recollecting that scene, his glorious youth suddenly lighted up behind the curtain in his old countenance, when he was absent-minded–startled Ramgopal’s eyes. She recovered slowly and looked at him smilingly. She said,

“Do you know, Sir, how much I hoped, after you had done that mischief and after having been tickled by you? I thought you would come the very next day to my father and offer to marry me.”

Something–a sort of remorse–penetrated into his heart of hearts at that instant. The bygone days turned out to be fruitful all of a sudden with her smile. Ramgopal thought that she too might be ruminating sorrowfully over the pleasures they both might have enjoyed. As he looked back, his life seemed like a desert of sixty years. He felt depressed over it.

“Radha! Are you happy?” he questioned her with a shivering tone.

Radha darted a mischievous look at him. He found a tinge of ridicule in her glances and smiles.

“Men of my husband’s type may be one in a hundred or a thousand or even a million,” she said.

Not only love but worship resounded in those words and in that voice. Ramgopal’s heart began beating in his throat. Radha was quite astonished when she found him suddenly making his exit.

After his brain got cooled with the cool breeze outside, he thought within himself that he did not really know anything about women. He decided that he had no right thenceforward to write even a single syllable about women as such.

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