(A
short story)
RAVOORI
BHARADWAJA
Translated
from the original in Telugu by K. VISWANADHAM
Reader
in English,
It
was past midnight. Darkness like inky rain was dropping noiselessly. There was
thick mist too in addition. The street lights were dozing as it were and
spraying like dying light. It was the neighbourhood
of the market. So, rotten vegetables, and leaves submerged the surroundings in
foul stink. There was a narrow lane to the right of the market. All day it wore
a deserted appearance; in the night nowhere else was there such rush. Those who
pass off as gentlemen in the day make their appearance in the nights in those
streets. In their view there was no difference between morality and clothes;
when needed, they are put on; otherwise they are hung on a rail. Through the
shutters were flowing out low music and laughter and scents. The foot falls of
persons walking, with heads bent and veiled, were not audible at a distance.
Men of all creeds, of all castes, were among the people. Neither religious wars
nor caste conflicts would be there. From such a street came to the front of the
market a person at that time of night. There were none
there; thick mist was raining. His body was tense with cold; for warmth he
rubbed his palms hastily; with those palms he warmed his eyes. But the cold
didn’t abate. He gathered the rubbish nearby and lighted it with a match. The
rubbish, wet with mist, whined ineffectiveness. He tried another time but it
was of no avail. Be cursed the mist, the rubbish and himself; even then the
rubbish didn’t pity him; it was obstinate in refusing to burn. Just then there
was the sound of movement on the sitting platform in front. He narrowed his
eyes to slits and looked in that direction. Some one was coming
his side. The first one felt about his waist; the knife with the hilt was, in
its place. With courage he was awaiting him. After he neared him, the first one
laughed loudly.
The
first one addressed the second one: “Are! It is you, idiot?
Seeing you, I was a bit afraid. Mistaking you for a policeman I became timid,
brother.” The second one said: “Do you know that neither the police, nor God
Brahma can come here in the night. If anyone’s Kharma
smoulders and he comes here, he goes phut with one stroke.” Both of them laughed,
snapping their fingers. Both of them together tried to make a fire. The rubbish
yielded helplessly to them. It began to burn sizzling and syringing smoke. The
air was not playing. So the smoke coiled itself there. Their eyes, irritated by
the smoke were closing. Both of them blew on the fire and made it bigger. The
fire began gradually to become bigger like profit in business. The light of the
fire pushing the darkness in front was creeping weakly on the wet road. In the
light of the red fire their faces were appearing fearsome. Light and darkness,
like waves, were playing on their faces.
The
second one looking at the first one said, “Why are you so, brother? Is
it that today nowhere did it profit you? You have made your face droop.”
“I
do not know whose face I saw, nothing avails, brother. If not, don’t you know
if we will be like this or not?”
The
second one said: “Chus! Don’t say so.
If you say so, I will never agree to it even on pain of death. What is finding
an opportunity, you cranky fool! For you, who will sleep with the doors open?
Before they sleep, they look to all things carefully, then
doze. Do you think, brother, that committing a theft is an easy game,” throwing
some rubbish on the fire.
“Shut
up your mouth, you womanfaced bastard!
Today
it is the same luck .in your house or mine: I have been thinking of asking
you…”
“Slicing gourds of lies (bluffing), child, slicing!
“By my mother! Brother, will I lie
for the widowed trifle of a beedi? One of your
type...You stole one-fourth of a century and denied a four anna
when requested by me for coffee. If it were I, I would have twirled it round
and round and flung it in your face. Do you know it?”
“Even
up to today you have not given to Suranna the
fourteen you have to give. This fellow will twirl it round and round and fling
it in the face! What is it you will fling on your soul?”
Has
that hollow-faced bitch’s son complained and grieved over it to you? He is
indebted to me by four deals. Let him give me mine and take away his. Who wants
his filthy fourteen?”
“Of
course there is this disease among you gamblers. Not much love lost between one
and another. Always dues! Your….come with me, brother.
You will better yourself. What is that? Look at that, brother! Who is that
coming?” The first one said this, pointing his finger in the direction of the
market. Both of them anxiously looked in that direction. Within one-fourth of a
minute another individual came there swaying.
“It
is you, old fellow! Come, come, old fellow, come. For a time warm yourself,” said the second one.
The
old fellow came near the fire saying: “I am coming, babu,
for that very purpose. The cold…is biting. Sleep does not come….a burning
sensation in the stomach! Hareram! Hareram!”
He kept his two hands over the fire and was warming himself.
“Which
is your village, grandpa?” asked the thief.
“Babu, ours is far away! Unable to live there, I have come
to this country,” said the old fellow shaking with cold.
“Is
it going on well with you, grandpa, here,” asked the thief.
“What
can I say, babu! If I wander in that manner crying, Hareram! Hareram, it
is difficult to obtain a mouthful of food by lunch time. Yesterday and today–I
do not know, babu, whose face I have seen–no mother
who said ‘Here, old fellow.’ How can I express my anguish?....Sir,
Babus, throw towards me a bit of tobacco if you have.
You will have punyam (merit). Since
morning I have not chewed, babu, even a small bit of
tobacco,” said the beggar turning his face towards them both.
The
thief said: “Old sir, I haven’t smoked a beedi since
a while ago, (and pointing his hand towards the second one) Nil even
with him. If available with him, I would have persuaded him to give one to
you.”
“Let
it be so, babu! Rama does not have pity on me. But
what do you do for your livelihood?” spoke the old fellow blowing at
the fading flame. The thief looked into the beggar’s face a minute
and lowered his face. He felt ashamed of telling him that he lived by thieving.
The thief knew that there was no danger to him by telling him so. But still? In
some corner his inner soul was telling him that his action was heinous. The
thief did not speak. The gambler offered an explanation for the beggar’s
question.
“It
is the same thing you do, old man! As for you, you beg for a
quarter anna, a pie or food. My brother,”
spoke the gambler with a knowing laugh, “my brother–without asking for them, he
in the nights decamps with hundreds and thousands. That is all, old man!”
“Babu, is
it thieving?” the beggar spoke. And after listening to the word the beggar
crawled back a bit.
The
thief’s face fell. If the gambler did not say what he was, he thought it would
have been better. But even now nothing had gone beyond one’s security. He could
not possibly do anything.
The
beggar, saluting God with his folded hands, remarked: “Thieving is sinful, Babu! I say, swearing, though it may anger you. After death
in Yama’s world all this sin has to be suffered for.”
The
gambler, thrusting some more rubbish into the fire, said: “What you say is
truth, old man! When all are sleeping happily, to steal what they earned by
toil is deceipt. This widowed baggage of a fellow
does not listen to my words. You at least speak to him, old man!” With this
observation, the thief’s anger broke bounds. His anger was smouldering
since a while against the gambler. He was looking forward to an opportunity.
The gambler’s designation of thieving was availed of as a protest. “Shut up,
you widow. It is only in gambling if it comes to that, that all deceipt is.” The thief turning towards the beggar asked,
“Is not gambling deceipt, grandpa?”
“It
is deceipt, babayya, deceipt,” said the beggar fearing that
the house would collapse if he said no.
“No,”
said the gambler loudly, “we play royally, win if luck favours:
lose if unlucky. We are not blind-folding anybody’s eyes. If so, how can it be deceipt?”
“All
these things are bad, babus, we have to toil hard.
There is nothing in this world to equal toil,” spoke the beggar.
The
gambler, not approving of, in the least, the beggar’s argument, said “What have
you laid by through toil, old man? These are not the
days for a worker. If it comes to that, is not gambling toil, grandpa? Why
don’t you speak? Is it not toil?”
“To
sit in the shade and play comfortably–is it toil? To describe toil I should
mention my profession. One has to leap over walls, make holes, see that no one
is in the house, be on the look out if some scamp is spying or not. After all
this is done, there is not even a silver plate in somebody’s house. In outward
show they are very striking. By the side of my strain what is yours?” enquired
the thief of the old man, shaking him by a grip on the shoulder. The beggar was
discomposed by that shake. He had to say something. There was no chance of
keeping quiet without saying something. On whose behalf to speak? The beggar
was torn by this indecision. Luckily a woman approached the fire, dragging her
legs, at that time. The face of the woman was a bit depressed. She had a white saree. Some flowers drooped to a side of the head. The
beggar saw her and spat with a loud expectoration. The beggar went nearer the
fire and said: “You have come even here, you common wife! If one sees your
face, one is seized by the five great sins, Hareram, Hareram.”
The
gambler enquired, “Why have you come this side? Was there no bargain struck?”
“No,
brother-in-law” spoke the woman approaching his back, “Having up to now waited
and waited, I am coming here.”
The
beggar looked at the woman disgusted and said: “Have you no sense of shame? Go
away from this place. Avaunt! Why don’t you go?” He
lifted up his stick.
The
woman said: “Brother-in-law, why did you permit this old man to come here? This
fellow’s wife left him and eloped with another. From that time the very word
‘woman’ angers him. All right…..see, my brother-in-law, lend me a rupee. We
shall seek privacy.”
The
thief laughed loud and having laughed, spoke: “How many brothers-in-law have
you, girl? Instead of debasing yourself to every chance-met fellow, why don’t
you seek the support of some one and remain faithful to him?” The devil of
jealousy in him groaned that way.’
The
gambler said, “I gave the same advice, brother. This daughter of a servant did
not pay heed to me.”
“That
is it. What you said is very fine, babu! Even God
will appreciate such a turn,” chimed in the beggar. He never liked the life the
woman led. Daily her way of life was open to him. He knew that in a single
night she had by turns even four or five men. He heard that even his wife,
after abandoning him, followed the same profession. The beggar was directing
that ill will against this woman.
“In
sooth all men are ass’s sons. If that Suryanarayana
were with me, I would not have yielded to another male. As long as he had a
job, he was with me. After that he left even
without informing me.
What can I do? How can food slip into the stomach? Tell me that,” said the
woman and sat near the fire.
The
fire was burning slowly. In the meanwhile the thief made a heap of rags, bits
of papers, dry plantain leaf bits and rubbish.
“Hareram, Hareram. Rama
served you right. It is well deserved. Hareram,
Hareram.”
“Senior
brother-in-law! What is the mutter of the old fool? Expel him. He whines like a
dog always….All right….You at least lend me a rupee….no food for tomorrow. I
shall return in two days the amount. Ho, brother-in-law.”
The
gambler said, “To purchase a bit of a beedi this diem
I do not have money.”
“We
are all alike. We are doing prohibited things. Still our stomachs are empty.
Fie! Fie! In sooth our lives are miserable lives. Our birth is a cursed birth”
observed the woman.
“That
is it. Because we do prohibited things, Ramachandra
has condemned us to this lot. This is the result of sin in some past life. We
are experiencing it now–Hareram, Hareram.”
The
fire died down completely. None had any intention of coaxing it. Mist was still
dropping. The four were looking at the extinguished heap with their arms on
their bent knees. None spoke. A slight breeze faintly animated the ashy heap.
In the distance the sound of the policeman’s shoes–thak–thak–was
heard. Somewhere a dog’s bark, a train’s whistle. The atmosphere was
impressive.
As
if breaching that impressiveness the sound of footfalls was gradually
approaching. The four looked in that direction. An individual was walking in
their very direction. The thief put some rubbish and made fire.
“Babu, babu. You will gain merit.
Give me a bit of tobacco for chewing, babu.” The
beggar requested of the new comer.
The
thief was scrutinizing his bearing carefully. He was examining his pocket. The
woman–as was her custom–was trying to attract him. As for him, he was looking
at them closely: They were a bit discomposed by his behaviour.
They suspected him to be some officer. They were thinking it would be better to
get out of his way. Just then, “Why do you look at me so?” spoke the young man,
“I am a human like you! Give me too some space; I shall warm myself.”
The
beggar remarked: “If so, do you steal or do you gamble?”
The
young man laughed softly.
Having
laughed, “Old man! I do not do any such thing. But all such people are my
friends,” said he.!
“If
so, do you employ gumastahs (clerks) to
do things, babu? Hareram,
Hareram. Today what sort of men have I stumbled
across! said the beggar.
The
young man said, “Here! Listen to me, old man! Thieving, gambling, fraud–are not
really lapses. All those, who do these, do not do them willingly. Their
circumstances shape them like that; When their condition becomes better, they
live more morally than several of the others!”
All
the others, with the exception of the beggar, looked at each other.
The
beggar said: “Babu, I am not sure. Living on the
proceeds of the sale of the body–in our life it doesn’t get rectified.” He
spat in the direction of the woman.
“Old
man, you are mistaken,” said the young man laughing, “if you better any thing,
there is nothing unimprovable in the world. Many are
not aware of this secret. Why go so far? Till recently I was sceptical myself. But after cogitation what I thought in
the beginning was proved to be wrong. Into our society we have admitted many
such. We gave free food, house and clothing to them. We taught them
handicrafts. Now they live decently. We performed the marriages of some. They
are leading a life of good domesticity. Why go so far? Tell me about you.
You–what do you do here, old man?”
“I
beg, babu,” returned the beggar.
“Suppose
you have food, a house and clothing. Do you still beg?
“Fie!….Why
do I carryon this wretched vocation? It is because of the lack of those
necessaries, there are these difficulties for me.”
“You
won’t do! Similarly thieves, whores, drunkards, gamblers….why mention a few?
People of these sorts slipped into these vocations because of some lack. If
these wants are set right, why do they still carry such indecent practices?
Hear! I have come on this mission to this village. I stay for two days more
here. Old man, let me know all such people among your acquaintances. I shall
receive them into the society,” spoke the young man looking at all of them.
The
thief enquired, “If the thieves have wife and children, are they too shown some
work?”
The
young man laughed.
“Yes….To
them too we show some support. That is the very work of our society.”
The
gambler enquired, “What do you gain from this?”
“We
don’t want any other gain. A human living like a human–is
all that we seek.”
The
beggar salaamed the young man and said: “Tell us where you stay, babu! I shall prostrate myself at your feet. I can’t in future
go on begging, babu. Today since morning I haven’t
eaten a morsel babu.”
“Old
man, there is nothing like a place of stay for me. If needed I shall stay away
with you tonight. Look, old man! who are these gentlemen?” he enquired looking
at the others.
The
thief and the gambler wondered at the respectable words of address he used.
They poured out the history of their lives to him. They said that they disliked
their vocations. They did these because of the absence of any other opening.
They said they would live decently if there was some support. Their manliness
hidden in some corner in them felt shy when he pulled them up and showed the
business in their lives. They repented of what they did. He assured them of the
freedom from fear.
“Who
is this?” he asked meaning the woman.
The
thief spoke, “Babu, hers is a wretched life. She
lives by yielding her body to everyone. See! She is not past 20. She is in
pieces already. Babu, admit her too into your
society.”
“Pity,”
sighed the young man.
From
a distance the stroke of three a.m. was heard floating in the air.
“I
am very happy for having met you. Unless persons like you completely
co-operate with us, our organization cannot prosper. Intimate this further to
others. Make them join the organization. See! I wish to hear the story of this
person. So tonight I shall remain with her,” spoke the young man pointing to
the woman. In the morning you meet me here. You can go. Namaskar.”
“Be
it so. Be it so!” said the others.
They
two started.
On
the way–
“Where
do you live?” enquired the young man.
She
covered her face with her hands and cried bitterly.
“Don’t
cry. Nothing is achieved by crying. Don’t disturb your mind by thinking of
bygones. To speak justly, what mistake did you commit? Poverty has forced you
into that life. You didn’t deceive any one. You sold yourself in helplessness.
This is no mistake. If any one among the thousands, who blame you, stood by
you, you would not have resorted to this…In this you are not to blame...Don’t
regret...See! Don’t cry like that. I shall find a solution,” spoke the young
man. “Where do you live?”
She
swallowed her weeping and said, “Come. Let us go.”
Both
stepped into the by-lane. From inside the houses were being heard laughter and
song still. Some veiling themselves were walking out briskly. Some were
bargaining standing in the street. Everything was proceeding noiselessly. None
noticed these two. Having gone on and on, they entered at the end of the street
a lane. The woman opened with a key an upstair room
in a storied house in the corner; it was a small-sized cave. There was only one
cot. Under the cot were pots and earthen trays. In a niche were a bottle of
oil, comb, mirror, etc. The walls were full of streaks of expectoration of
betel juice.
“I
have to pay a rent of Rs. 11 for this room. Whether I
have anything to eat or not, this is inescapable. If this is delayed by a day,
the marwadi will not tolerate. In the town no
accommodation is shown to people of my sort,” said the woman.
“What
terrible life you lead ?” he spoke, as if weighed down.
There
was silence between the two. Outside, the sound of footfalls came as far as the
door and stopped. He alerted his ears.
There
was a tap on the door. Immediately, an enquiry, if she was unengaged. She went
to the window and said, “No.”
“What
is that ?” enquired he, not knowing this.
“Let
it go...why do you make me talk further by my very mouth? He came because of
old habit,” said she ashamed. “Even if I am prepared for this, I cannot feed my
stomach. Today I fasted.”
His
face changed grotesquely. He collapsed like one disappointed. Beads of
perspiration stood on him. He was thoughtful for quarter of a minute. Then he
got up quickly.
Having
got up–
“Stay...
I shall come again,” he was about to step into his shoes.
“Where
to?”
“I
shall bring something for you to eat. Let me go….if you are without food like
this, do you want me to see and keep quiet? Now...in a quarter of an hour I
shall be back. I have money.”
“At
this time of night no shops are open. I am accustomed to fasting like this. I
fasted not because of lack of money. I too have money,” she said removing the
lid of the tin in the niche, “Here! Look! There are ten rupees
here.”
“Then
why didn’t you take your food?”
“Tomorrow
the rent has to be paid. If not, the room has to be vacated.
Out of Rs. 11, I have collected Rs.
10. If I spend out of this for food, how can I Pay the rent?”
she said flinging the tin into the niche.
“What
difficulties are you enduring?” said he resting leisurely his back on the cot.
“All your miseries are at an end by tomorrow. This is your last night in this
dirty room, in the midst of these circumstances. Tomorrow by this time you
shall be in a room of our organization. Later we shall marry you to a good
fellow selected by us. Your life will change into comfort.”
“I
shall not marry again!. My gorge rises against marriage. Like this I shall labour and live;” said she looking at the moths alighting
on the bed-light mirror.
“What?”
spoke he, raising himself on one arm and sitting apart on the cot.”
“I
don’t want it. Having done it once, what have I enjoyed for you to ask me to do
it a second time?”
“Let
it go….A very good fellow….Suppose I say that I will marry you for instance.
Will you say ‘no’ to me?” asked he looking at her scrutinizingly.
She
too looked at him a moment blankly, “I am not suitable for great ones like you.
I don’t come up to the value of the dust of your shoes. Please, don’t talk of
me like that,” saying this she bent down to touch his feet. He raised her by
her shoulders.
“Don’t
say so. There is virtue in raising the unprotected like you. God also will
bless. If you have no objection–as soon as we get back to our organization–we
shall get married. There is nothing surprising in saluting the good. Greatness
is in raising the bad to a finer level. What do you say? You like it?” asked he
touching her cheek.
She
looked into his face a moment and lowered her head. He drew her to him and
kissed her….That night she could not sleep well. She floated on sweet thoughts.
Was this real? Or a dream? She writhed with that doubt. As soon as she was
awake she feared that the sweet dream might crack. She made the fluttering
flame brighter and looked at him. He was sleeping by her side free from care.
Drops of perspiration dotted his fine face; in the light of the lamp they were
glittering. The dishevelled hair slightly dropped on
the right eye. The shirt was unbuttoned. The chest was broad and swelling. She
developed limitless love for him. She thought that he was not just a man. She
thought of him as the giver of new life, as one who would raise her from the
abysm and send her to heaven. What is more desirable than this–though at this
hour?
She
adjusted the buttons. She brushed up the hair. She brought the lamp near his
face and looked at him concentratedly. Grief welled
like a wave. Fearing that he might be roused by her crying, she swallowed her
crying. She lowered the wick. Without pressing him too much, she kissed him
softly. She nudged herself beside him and closed her eyes. But she could not
sleep. Her self was afloat on the sea of bliss. The beautiful future expanding
and glistening with divine lights appeared as if inviting her with a thousand
hands. From tomorrow her path would be free from thorny by-paths, and
interlaced bushes. There won’t be ‘bitter’ taste in her life from tomorrow.
This night was the parting word (Bharatavakya)
to a life filled with stench and terrifying heinousness. Tonight would be the
prologue (naandi) to a sweet life blossoming
with newness and more newness. God himself would have come like this to raise
her and thousands of unfortunates like herself. She would marry him. After
marrying him she would raise the other fallen creatures, leading the most
heinous of lives, like her...
That
night sleep did not woo her. She was constricted and suffocated by the impact
of thoughts crowding on her like unceasing rain. Till very late–she could not
get even a slight nap. When she got up finally and looked around, it was bright
dawn bursting in. Slowly opening her eyelids weighed down by the sweet burden
of dreams, she looked for the donor on the bed, She massaged her eyes and rose
briskly. She looked into the four corners of the room. He was not to be seen.
Perhaps he went for coffee. Because she did not eat in the night, he might have
gone to bring something or he might have gone to meet the others? She could not
decide. Within a short time he would return. By that time she would prepare
some tiffin and be ready. For that purpose she went to the niche. The tin in
which she kept the ten rupees in the night was empty and stared back at her
blankly.
“O
God!” she exclaimed and collapsed standing. But God did not awake even by that
time.