SISTER
(A
short story)
Lecturer
in English,
The
moment Virabhadram stepped into the house, his
children ran to him shouting, “Daddy! Daddy! Auntie is coming.”
“Auntie! Who is she!” asked Virabhadram in surprise. “Don't you know, Daddy? It’s auntie Durga. She comes here tomorrow,” they said. “Auntie will bring me sweets”….“She will get me nice toys,” they were telling each other in joy.
Meanwhile
his mother came there and told him excitedly “Durga
is coming–son, she has dropped a card. She writes she is coming tomorrow. He
too is coming. They have named the boy after your father.”
Virabhadram did not say anything.
He went in, put his shirt and upper cloth on the hanger, and proceeded to the
back yard to wash his feet. Handing him water in a tumbler, his wife Mahalaxmi said to him, “Your sister is coming. Have you
seen the letter?”
Virabhadram with a simple ‘No’
washed his feet and walked back into the house, drying himself with a towel.
His wife brought him coffee. He emptied the cup, put on the shirt and came back
into the sitting room. His father beckoned to him. Virabhadram
went near. “Son! What has happened,
has happened; do not scold your sister, when she comes here. We too wanted her
happiness only. It is fortunate we are able to see her again.” Saying so, the
father extended the letter towards him.
Virabhadram knitted his eye-brows
and said, “No need to read it,” and walked out. He returned home for meals at
seven. The children had already finished their meals. His parents too had their
repast. The children gathered round their grand-parents and
were putting questions about their auntie. “I will carry auntie’s baby,” said Purna, Virabhadram’s only daughter.
“No, I will carry him,” said Ramu, the
eldest boy.
Virabhadram went in to
take his meal. There his wife again broached the topic of Durga.
“She remembers her brother now–after such a lapse of time. That
too, only because her parents are here. Otherwise why would she remember
you,” went on Mahalaxmi when he cut her short with a
frown. She kept quiet.
Virabhadram
finished his meal and went into his bedroom, and picking up a Weekly, slumped
into the easy chair. After a short while, his wife came there. She prepared the
bed, and going up to him, tried to hand him the letter, saying, “Your father
has asked me to give it to you. “No throw it away,” said Virabhadram
in irritation. “What harm is there in reading it? Read it, at least for your
father’s sake,” said she, and put the letter in his hand. He just wanted to
glance through it and throw it away, but could not help reading it. There was
nothing special in it. Durga wrote quite innocently,
as if nothing had happened. Virabhadram threw the
letter away on the table. He opened the Weekly again, but could not continue
it. His mind began to revolve round the incident that happened two years ago.
“What infamy has she brought upon you? What pain she gave you?” Mahalaxmi was mumbling, when Virabhadram,
troubled by his own thoughts, asked her to shut up, and threw the magazine on
the table and went to bed. His wife began to press his feet.
The
incident renewed the wound in Virabhadram’s mind. Durga was not yet married then. Her father had worn out the
proverbial seven pairs of shoes, in looking for a suitable match for her. Owing
to his age and illness, he threw the burden on the shoulders of his only son. Virabhadram wanted to prove himself a worthy son, by
fulfilling successfully this entrusted duty. At the very first trial, he caught
hold of an engineer who, on enquiry, was found to be his own boyhood friend.
Both the friends had a pleasant time in recollecting their childhood. At the
right moment, Virabhadram revealed the purpose of his
visit to him. His friend readily agreed to his proposal and came with his
mother to see the bride. He was thoroughly satisfied with Durga.
He and his mother discussed about other matters. Durga
was bewitchingly beautiful, and more than that, Virabhadram
was his old friend, and so his mother could not ask more than five thousand as
dowry. Durga being his only sister, and the
bridegroom, his friend, being also an engineer, Veerabhadram
did not feel it too much. His parents too felt in the same way “Fix
up the ‘muhurtam’ and inform us,” said the bridegroom
and his mother, and went away.
Virabhadram wanted to celebrate
the marriage of his sister in a befitting manner. He was pleased with himself
for having fixed up such a high match. But scarcely a week had passed, when one
day Durga approached her brother, possibly to tell
him something. He was about to taunt her playfully, when he stopped on seeing
the expression on her face. He had never seen her look so seriously as then.
“What is it, Durga?” he asked.
“Annayya……,” she, hesitated to speak further. “Yes, tell me,
what is it?” said Virabhadram
encouragingly.
“I
am not interested in this alliance, Annayya, I don’t
like it.” Durga spoke out.
Virabhadram felt as if he were
struck by a bolt from the blue. The earth seemed to move away from under his
feet.
“What
do you mean!” he roared.
His
wife and parents ran in, “Listen to what she says. She doesn’t like this
match,” Virabhadram said, angrily, turning towards
his parents. They could not believe it, at first. But when they learnt that it
was true, they too were dismayed.
“What
is wrong with this match? Where can you get a better one than this?” they asked
her.
Meanwhile
Virabhadram’s daughter Purna
came there and told them, “Auntie wants to marry her Mathematics teacher and
she always speaks about him.”
“Is
it true?” Durga’s parents asked her.
“I
will marry only my teacher, I do not like this match,” replied Durga stubbornly.
Virabhadram’s anger knew no bounds.
“Then you should have told us in the beginning. We would have been relieved of
all this trouble. You may marry whom so ever you like. But if you marry your
teacher, mind you, I will have nothing to do with you again. You must consent
to this match. Will you obey me or not?”
“No.”
said Durga.
Hating
to see her face any longer, Virabhadram went out of
the house. The parents started scolding her.
Durga could not hold herself any longer. She
broke into tears. But still she clung to her resolve. The very next day she disappeared.
Soon it transpired that her teacher too disappeared at the same time.
Virabhadram hung
down his head in shame. With tears running down his face, he begged pardon of
his engineer friend, whose response was generous, far beyond expectation.
“It
was rather our fault, Virabhadram. We considered only
whether she satisfied us or not, but never took into account her own
opinion. Do not you worry. I assure you, we will be
friends as ever,” said he, and patted him gently on his shoulders.
But
Virabhadram felt extremely humiliated. His friend’s
generosity rather made him detest his sister’s behaviour
all the more.
Three
months later, a letter came from
But
Virabhadram expressly forbade his father to reply to
her. He prohibited even the very mention of her name in the house. No one dared
to disobey him. His word was law in the house. Even his parents dared not
contradict him, despite the deep anguish in their hearts.
There
was no letter subsequently from Durga. These two
years, Virabhadram had almost forgotten that he had a
sister. But today this letter! The humiliation and agony he had suffered two
years ago flared afresh within him. The more his mind revolved round this
matter, the more intense was his anger. He could not at all remember how fondly
he loved the same sister and how he spent his time happily in her company. All
that was as if erased from his mind for ever.
Pressing
his feet gently, Mahalaxmi, his wife, started again.
“Anyway she is coming. Why should we be troubled by it? We
shall treat her properly. Otherwise, the neighbours
would think ill of us. They laughed at us when she ran away with
that fellow. But today, these same people will take us to
task, if we do not treat her well.”
“I
did not ask for your advice” said Virabhadram,
boiling with rage inside.
“Of
course, I know that my advice is never necessary. But people will blame only me
rather than you. They will say, you have acted thus on my advice,” said Mahalaxmi with a hurt look.
The
next morning, his father broached the matter again.
“Will
you go to the station, son?”
“What for?”
“Why!
To bring your sister. She has asked you to come to the
station,” said his father.
Virabhadram simply kept
quiet.
“Son,
let bygones be bygones. It does not look nice, if you
still cling to the past. She is the only daughter of the house. She is your own
flesh and blood. At least for my sake, go to the station, son,” said his
father, in a beseeching tone.
“I
shall see.” So saying Virabhadram walked away.
Knowing
full well that Virabhadram would not go to the station,
Gourinadham himself went to the station, accompanied
by his grandchildren. In fact, Virabhadram, after
going a few steps, turned towards the station, but soon the
whole episode flashed again in his mind. He stopped and went away to his office
directly.
“Daddy,
here I am!” Durga shouted even before the train came
to a halt. Gourinadham and his grandchildren rushed
to the spot. Durga got down first with her baby.
“Look here, daddy. This is your grandchild, Gouri,
named after you, as I have already written to you.” So saying, she showed the
baby to her father, whose joy knew no bounds, on seeing this new grandchild.
“Daddy! Why have you taken
the trouble? Has not annaya come? How is your
health?” Durga asked him.
“I
am carrying on, child. Your brother had to urgently attend the office. So he
could not come” replied Gourinadham. Meanwhile, a
young man, after getting the luggage out by the porters, approached Gourinadham and made a namaskaram.
He introduced himself as the son-in-law, Mohanarao.
Gourinadham was taken
aback at first, but he soon collected himself and returned his namaskaram. “Come on. Let us move out,” so
saying, he took them home in a jutka.
As
the jutka stopped, Durga’s
mother came running, and embraced her daughter. “After how long could I see you
again, child,” she sobbed. Mahalaxmi welcomed her
sister-in-law with a blank face and took her and her child inside the house,
after removing ‘Drishti-dosh’.
After
the initial formalities were over, Durga opened her
trunk and distributed toys and biscuit packets to her brother’s children. They
began to jump with joy. Durga settled down and began
to describe the strange world of
It
was almost evening. Durga began to put a volley of
questions to her sister-in-law: “When does my brother come home? Has he got any
increment in his salary now?...” and soon she was
looking forward to her brother’s arrival.
It
was past 5’O clock in the evening when Virabhadram
returned. His children ran to him. But Durga was even
before them and with a smiling face she accosted him: “How do you do, Annayya!”
Virabhadram stood still,
being at a loss what to say, and simply nodded his head. Meanwhile the children
showed their new toys to him. “Aunt has given us all these,” they shouted in
joy.
Virabhadram went in
without even a smile. Mohanarao came forward and
wished him. On seeing him, Virabhadram’s anger flared
up. ‘This man, who eloped with my sister, is my brother-in-law?’ Virabhadram turned his face away from him.
Durga was pained at her
brother’s indifference, but she resolved to make him talk somehow. When Virabhadram was taking coffee, Durga
went to him again, “Annayya, I have brought you a
money purse and a brief-case. See, they are of fine leather. We got them cheap
at a Chinese shop,’ so saying, Durga put the two
before him.
Mahalaxmi was watching
her husband. Virabhadram held the articles in his hands
without saying anything.
Mohanarao was just a few
steps behind Durga, waiting for an opportunity to
break the ice with his brother-in-law.
“All
right,” said Virabhadram, putting away the articles
on the table. Just at that moment, Durga’s child began
to cry and so she ran out. Mohanarao made himself scarce without anymore ado.
Mahalaxml looked at her
husband meaningfully. Virabhadram looked daggers at
her and turned his head away.
After
supper, Virabhadram reclined in an easy chair. Durga brought her child there and put him in his h-ands
saying, “See here! Annayya! Say whether he resembles
you are not. Everybody says he takes after you. Doesn’t he?” she chattered on
in happiness. Her mother, who was close by, supported her, “Really he resembles
you, son.”
Mohanarao was hovering
at the door. The baby in Virabhadram’s arms, opened his toothless gums in innocent laughter. He
tried to put his fingers into the mouth. The child was really a charming little
thing. Virabhadram could not but like him; but his
mind was filled with hatred, when he remembered that the child was the son of
that man, hanging at the door. Fortunately the child himself rescued him out of
the uncomfortable situation. He began to wet his uncle’s clothes. Virabhadram held him off hurriedly. “You
little rascal! Is it the gift you give to your uncle?” So saying, Durga took the baby and went out laughing. Afterwards his
mother told him “We must present something to the child, son. What do you say?”
Virabhadram flushed with anger. But observing that
his wife was watching him all along, he simply said, “I don’t know. If you
want, I shall give you money.”
Later,
Mohanarao said to his wife “I do not feel at home
here. Your brother is very angry with us. How can we stay in such an atmosphere?
We shall go back tomorrow. We can invite your parents to our own place.”
But
Durga dissuaded her husband, “My brother is really a
nice man. Don’t be hasty. Just continue your efforts towards softening him. In
two days he himself will come round.”
The
next morning, in accordance with his wife’s advice, Mohanarao
approached Virabhadram, as he sat reading the daily
newspaper in the verandah, and took a near by chair. He sat still for a moment,
not knowing what to speak, but at last, ventured out with a question. “Is your
officer the same old man?” Without even lifting his head, Virabhadiam
replied ‘Yes’.
“Have
you got any promotion?” came the second question.
The
answer was only ‘No’.
“What
are the important events in today’s paper?” ask Mohanarao,
feeling sure that every Andhra would be generally interested in politics.
Without saying anything, Virabhadram handed him the
paper, and soon lost himself in some deep thought.
There were
two special dishes that day at meals. Both were completely new to them, but at
the same time were highly delicious too. Virabhadram
had a second helping. His wife asked him “Why don’t you ask, as to how these
specials have come and who has prepared them?” “How do you like them, Annayya? I prepared them. They are Bengali specials,” said Durga–eagerly awaiting her brother’s remarks.
Answering
that they were alright, Virabhadram finished his meal
without raising his head any more. As he was going to the office, Durga told him, “Annayya, come
early today. We shall all go to a picture.” Virabhadram
went away without giving any reply.
He
came late in the evening. His anger towards his sister grew apace, on hearing
some news in the office. He learnt that his engineer friend was going to marry
the daughter of a M.L.A., and that Soon after the marriage, he would be leaving
for England for higher studies on a scholarship.
As
Virabhadram stepped in, Durga
came towards him. “Why are you so late, Annayya?
Didn’t I tell you that We would be going for the picture now? Mother and others
also are Corning. Take your meal quickly. All of us are ready,” she said. Now Virabhadram was forced to say a few Words: “I have no time.
I have to meet somebody.” Mahalaxmi said that she too
would stay behind, if her husband did not come.
Then
Durga pestered her brother, “If you don’t come, Vadina, (sister-in-law) says, she too won’t come. We shall
all go together, Annayya! Please don’t disappoint
us.”
At
last, Virabhadram had to go to the picture, though
boiling within, for having to go through all these formalities. He bought First
Class tickets for all. They occupied the same row. Virabhadram
could not at all enjoy the picture but Durga and Mohanarao seemed to enjoy the picture very much. They were
chatting gaily with each other, laughing now and then.
Virabhadram simply turned
his head away from them in disgust.
Mohanarao did not make
any further attempt to speak to his brother-in-law. He felt nervous on seeing
him. He avoided him. But Durga would not give up her
efforts so easily. She ran before her sister-in-law and attended on her
brother. She gave him hot water and a towel, when he went to bathe. She gave
him coffee. She prepared some tiffin for him.
But still Virabhadram would not talk freely with her.
He felt somewhat uncomfortable, when he saw his sister doing all these things
for him. But he was still stubborn. Had she confessed her wrong and begged
pardon with tears, he might have perhaps forgiven her. But Durga
never seemed to think at all that she had done a wrong thing. On the other hand
she was quite happy with her husband. Virabhadram
felt it to be a challenge.
Durga, failing in
all her attempts to evoke affection from her brother, poured out her heart
before her parents. “Annayya is not able to show
affection to his own sister. Have we not seen matches failing even after
betrothal? But it seems to be a crime, when a woman breaks a match. It is a
question concerning the whole life. What earthly comfort is there in marrying a
person whom I do not love? Though he be a millionaire, how can I marry an ugly
person? I am quite happy, as I am. My husband adores me. Nor do I want anything
more. I do not care for big mansions, cars and high positions. I have not come
in the way of Annayya, whomsoever I married. Why
should he be so particular about it? Naturally we exchanged harsh words on that
occasion. But that is all past. I came here with great hope that he would
forget and forgive. I thought he would be pleased to see my baby. I persuaded
my husband to go over here, despite his misgivings. I thought his heart would
melt at least on seeing my child. But it has turned out like this.”
Her
parents consoled her. But they could not do anything. In the morning, when Virabhadram was free, his mother came to him and said, “Durga has come here after such a long time. Is it proper
for you, son, to treat her in this way? At this, Virabhadram
turned on her and asked her in a serious tone “How else should I treat her? A
sister who does not care for her own brother, what more does she deserve?”
“Why
should you be still stubborn over her words uttered in an angry mood then? If
she does not care for you, will she hang on to you so much? We are in fact
saved from a lot of expenditure, because of her daring decision.”
“Why!
Give the dowry now, if you want. I shall not prevent you.”
“She
is not greedy after money. She wants only affection from you. Do you find it so
hard to show the least affection towards your only sister? She is heart-broken
at your hard-heartedness.”
Virabhadram did not reply.
Durga, who overheard their
conversation, could not hold back her tears. Mohanarao
pressed her again to come away.
“Alright.
We shall start tomorrow,” said Durga. She informed
her parents too. They pressed them to stay on. Then Durga
said–
“Really
we came here to stay for at least fifteen days. But now we cannot stay any
longer. How can we remain here, when Annayya doesn’t
like our presence?”
Gourinadham, took three
hundred rupees from his son and went to the bazaar. He brought a gold necklace,
bracelets and a ring for Durga’s child, and brought
four decent sarees and blouse pieces for Durga and some suitings for his
son-in-law. He had the clothes and presents given to Durga
and her child through the hands of his daughter-in-law and himself handed the clothes
to Mohanarao.
Durga at first refused. But
Gourinadham pressed her “Accept them, child. If you
refuse, Annayya may become still more angry.”
In
the evening, Durga informed her brother, “We are
leaving tomorrow, Annayya.” But not a word came out of
his mouth.
“He
has not asked me to stay, even for formality’s sake. I have become such an
enemy to my own brother,” so wept Durga. She began to
make preparations for their journey.
The
next morning, Mahalaxmi reminded her husband that his
sister was leaving that day. Virabhadram looked as if
startled, and for the first time, he was somewhat confused. He picked up the
daily paper, but could not concentrate on it. But the past incident and the
humiliation he suffered in those days, came back before his mind, and stirred
afresh his anger.
Mohanarao came to him
saying, “We are leaving today. Please try to come to Calcutta once.”
“I
shall try,” mumble Virabhadram.
All
sat down for meals. Durga could not eat anything. The
parents too had a half-hearted meal. Virabhadram was
absent-minded.
Soon
after the meals were over, Mohanarao, brought a jutka. The ‘jutkawala’ was
putting the ‘samans’ inside the jutka.
Virabhadram was watching
from within. Mohanarao called out to him from the
street: “Good-bye. We are going. Please be writing letters often.”
Virabhadram went
into his room and sat in the chair. Durga came in to
take leave of her brother. She bent down and touched his feet. Two drops of hot
tears fell on his feet. Virabhadram was startled. Durga went out. But he sat rooted to his spot. As he was
thinking, with his head bent forward, two drops of tears fell on his fingers.
They were from his own eyes! He was surprised at himself. He wiped away the
tears. While doing so, he noticed, the small scar on the fore-finger of his
right hand. Suddenly something stirred in his memory. Long ago, in his
childhood, when he was only twelve, and Durga was
seven, they were playing together, when Durga
suddenly threw a toy-train at him. It struck his finger and soon blood came
out. Seeing the blood, Durga was alarmed. “Oh! you
are hurt! Please do not tell mother, Annayya! I shall
dress up the wound.” So saying, she brought a wet piece of cloth and bandaged
his finger. Their mother saw the bandage, and learning that Durga
was the culprit, wanted to beat her. But Virabhadram
stopped her. Later, when it was difficult for him even to take food, Durga mixed the food for him and put it in his mouth with
her tiny fingers. And what pranks did she play then! She was such a naughty and
mischievous girl. How fond he himself was of her!
A
small crack formed in the dam, that wounded pride built, through which the
swift current of past reminiscences oozed out, and soon it developed into a
wide breach, and then the overpowering flood was everywhere.
“O
son! Durga is going away,” his father shouted to him.
Virabhadram jumped up and ran into the street. Durga just then got up into the jutka.
“Stop! Durga! Don’t go now. You must not go now. I
shall send away the jutkawala,” so saying Virabhadram made them get down, and paid something to the jutkawala and sent him away.