THE WOUNDED GODDESS

(Short Story)

V. V. SUBBAIAH

(Translated from the original in Telugu)

The people who learnt where the car was going to were shocked. The car disappeared into the dust, which was chasing it like a flame. It got down the valley, whined a while crossing the sandy river and at last started running chased by dust.

The people who learnt where the car was coming from were more shocked.

Narasa Reddy, who was talking with Gopalacharlu in the hall, came to the portico in a great hurry, all in smiles.

Yerram Reddy, getting down from the car, with fringes of “dhoti” in his left hand, raised his right hand in greeting, with dignity and said, “Namaste.” “Oh God, what does that mean? You are older, if not greater! You shouldn’t……”

“Namaste,” said Chandrasekhara Reddy.

“This is my son, Chandram, if fortunate, your son-in-law”...

“Fortunate! to whom?”

Yerram Reddy laughed bellyfully at the joke of Narasa Reddy. The chicken who were pecking at ‘Ragi’ ran away for their lives, frightened by Yerram Reddy’s laughter.

All of them went into the hall. Gopalacharlu got up and welcomed them with a smile.

“Your decision to patch up your old rivalries with a wedlock is a good augury–not only to you, but also to our region,” he said.

“Swamiji, that is past history. Our rivalries are killed and buried. Let the past bury its dead. In order to forget it completely, I am sending my daughter to his house,” said Narasa Reddy, looking at Yerram Reddy.

“Shall I send my son to your house for a change?” Yerram Reddy bellowed another peal of laughter. Gopalacharlu joined him but only to be drowned by Yerram Reddy’s laughter.

“Seetakalyanam will be performed in the temple tonight. It is a pleasant coincidence that you are here. Kindly attend the function,” Gopalacharlu invited Yerram Reddy.

“Tell it to the host, Swamiji. It is his responsibility as the host and trustee to take us to the temple.” “Agreed I shall get him to the temple. So permit him to take leave of you. He came here only to invite you.” Narasa Reddy gestured to Gopalacharlu to go in. He caught the sign and went in.

“See, Mr. Narasa Reddy, let us do away with that formality of an interview. My son says that he has seen your daughter at the university. I guess she may have seen him by now through some door-crack. Making a girl sit before the boy, and he looking at her with X-ray eyes, is really horrible. It may be a game to the boy, but to the girl, my God, it is an agony,” Yerram Reddy said.

Narasa Reddy nodded with a smile.

“…So he hasn’t passed his M. A.”, Laxmidevamma said surprised.

“No, but what if he hasn’t when our girl has. He was not well at the time of his examinations...He will do it next year,” said Gopalacharlu.

Gopalacharlu was not satisfied with his answer. Neither was Lakshmidevamma with it. But neither said anything for a while.

“But how about the generations of hatred between the two families? Is it possible to forget all that and be united?” Lakshmidevamma asked.

“Yes, it is, when it is the will of God.” Gopalacharlu’s face showed slight disgust at the conversation being continued.

The sun was on the decline. The afternoon was like an old-man’s bad temper.

Gopalacharlu got up wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Don’t have imaginary fears, Lakshmidevamma. All is well and it ends well. Janaki is a Goddess. She will never be wounded. I take leave……” he went out.

But the thorn in the mind of Lakshmidevamma remained unplucked–

“Who the hell that said eating in your house breaks the alliance? I do it tonight. Let me see how inauspicious it is!” Yarram Reddy was saying taking his tea in the hall.

“It doesn’t,” said Narasa Reddy.

“Two hoots for the superstition. I will have dinner only in your house and get bark to my village only tomorrow morning.”

“After breakfast,” added Narasa Reddy.

“Yes, only after breakfast,” laughed Yerram Reddy. The hall echoed with his laughter.

Janaki, who was looking at the dancing shadow of sunlight on the ruddy cheek of Chandram, through the crack of a window pane, was startled. “Oh! I will have to learn to bear with this laughter,” she said to herself.

The soft notes of ‘Shehanai’ were wafting over the hot wind. The shallow shadows were turning into lumps of darkness. The atmosphere was still, hot and hard enough to breathe. The trees stood motionless, afraid of darkness.

Janaki was looking at the invisible trees and the darkness that made them invisible. Suddenly she heard the sound of a bottle broken in her father’s room and was startled.

“My God, it has already started,” she said to herself.

The darkness in the coconut palms in the backyard hooted like an owl. ‘Eh, Naga” shouted Narasa Reddy, coming into the verandah.

Janaki heard the hurried footsteps of Naganna, the family servant.

“Bring the dinner up, again shouted Narasa Reddy. Already his voice was heavy and his words slow.

Janaki’s stomach turned. A ten-year old incident stood up in her memory….Naganna’s sister, Munemma, was telling mother about the behaviour of father, tears rolling down her ebony cheeks. Janaki was coming down the stairs.

“When?” mother was asking, panic-stricken. “At mid-night, madam, Reddy was fully drunk. What is our life worth for? The life of a dog at your doorstep.” Munemma could not continue. Her voice choked with emotion. She was looking down with anger. Janaki was amazed. But mother was not. Mother flared into a rage, when she saw her. Her eyes glowed, like red-hot coals.

“Janaki, you get back to your room” she shouted....

The next day Janaki saw, though unexpectedly, how father stood before mother, like a sinner before God. From that day she started hating drunkards and time has increased it…

Naganna was taking up food to Narasa Reddy’s room.

“Janakamma”, he called.

“What?” Janaki, coming back to reality, asked.

“Acharlu has come. He wants to see you.”

“Tell father also.”

Naganna was gone. Janaki came downstairs.

Gopalacharlu’s brow was suddenly knotted when he looked at Janaki.

“Why are you like that, Janaki?” he asked.

“Nothing. I have not taken my dinner. I want to eat only after I return from the temple,” Janaki said with a warm smile.

Gopalacharlu’s brow-knot slowly untied itself and his face showed relief.

“They are also coming, aren’t they?” Gopalacharlu asked.

“They say they are busy and can’t come?” Naganna said.

“Oh, the big Reddys are busy, perhaps, with a big thing,” said Gopalacharlu and added looking at the women. “Could you at least come?” His voice bristled with irony. Janaki and her mother looked at each other, amazed.

The marriage platform was like a heap of youthful dreams, sandal perfumes and mango leaves. Goddess Sita was like a real bride with flowers in hair, diamond ear-rings and a tiny beauty-spot on her right cheek. Janaki was thrilled looking at the idol of Sita. She thought that Sita was trying to look into the eyes of Sri Rama, lifting up her heavy eyelids, but couldn’t.……

Janaki blushed.

“Why do you blush like that?” Lakshmidevamma asked.

“Nothing”, said Janaki more blushed.

“Foolish girl,” the mother said to herself...Gopalacharlu was performing the divine marriage...

“He will perform my marriage also in the same way,” thought Janaki...

By the time they returned home from the temple, it was past ten. Janaki went to her room after dinner, humming the song she had heard at the temple.

The owl in the backyard and Yerram Reddy in Narasa Reddy’s room were laughing their habitual laughters.

Janaki saw Goddess Sita in the mirror when she wanted to look at herself.

“How shy she was! Her eyes twinkled more than her diamond earrings,” thought Janaki.

It suddenly struck to Janaki that she bears the name of Goddess Sita. Janaki laughed to herself delighted.

“Chandrappa...Chandrappa,” Naganna was knocking at the door of the room which was occupied by Sri Rama...err...Chandram.

Janaki went to the door, opened a small crack and looked through it hoping to catch a glimpse of Chandram. Chandram opened the door and asked “What, Naganna?”

Naggana unwrapped something from his dirty towel and handed it over to Chandram. It was a brandy bottle!

“Mr. Narasa Reddy wanted me to give it to you,” he said. Chandram took it with a murky smile.

A big, noisy cracker exploded at the temple. Janaki thought that it exploded in her heart.

“A brandy bottle! So father has sent a brandy bottle to his future son-in-law,” Janaki thought with pain. Anger and revulsion welled up in her heart. While going downstairs, Naganna saw her and was startled.

“Naga, come here”, Janaki called. Naganna came in.

“What did you give him?”

“The usual thing, Janakamma”, Naganna said after some hesitation.

“Who asked you to…..?

“Your father,”

“Where is his father?”

“I don’t know.”

Hesitating for a moment, Naganna slipped out. Janaki came absentmindedly to the cot and sat down. She looked at the open door and was frightened. She ran up to the door, closing it, returned to the cot. She tried her best to keep herself calm, in vain.

The clock struck eleven. Janaki was startled. She looked at the old photograph of her grandfather, hanging below the enormous wall clock. She thought that her grandfather was laughing at her–laughing at the life of his grand-daughter floating down the flood. The wetness of the pillow made her realize that she was weeping.

“Why should I cry?” she asked herself. “Chandram has not completed his M. A. But I have. And why for? They don’t want any dowry from us. Why so much of kindness? Who cares to know? If I agree to this marriage, a thousand families will get peace. Sacrifice! Why should I sacrifice my happiness? Perhaps I will be sacrificed, if I don’t. This is not a marriage

–but a sacrifice–a human sacrifice.”

There used to be murders between the two families. With my marriage, perhaps they end and human sacrifices begin. Grandpa laughed at the dagger planted in his heart by Madi Reddy, Yerram Reddy’s brother. He is laughing at the dagger going down the heart of his grand-daughter. He is laughing at the efficiency of his son, spending twenty-five thousand rupees for sending his father’s murderer to jail. Laugh on grandpa...Laugh on….Laugh on…..Tired of thinking, Janaki escaped into troubled sleep from the reality of life…..

…The marriage is over. All of them went to Yerram Reddy’s village. Janaki looked up and saw Madi Reddy, the murderer, standing at the head of the staircase, whip in hand.

“Look brother. I did what you asked me to do,” Yerram Reddy said pointing to Janaki.

“Well done, good brother, well done. You move aside. I will tear this bitch into pieces and be revenged,” shouted Madi Reddy, with fire in his eyes and cobras in his breath.

Janaki struggled like a caged bird and looked piteously at Chandram, her husband. He too laughed, It was like the rasping of a sword on a stone.

“Why trouble to you, uncle. I will make her drink her own blood.”

Madi Reddy laughed again….Janaki woke up. She was dazed and struggling for breath.

“Is it a dream or a reality? Or a dream which forebodes a reality. Oh, What a fool am I? It is all imagination, imagination run riot! Chandram is not what I misunderstand him to be. He will treat me as he does a flower. He does not allow my smile to wane. But...He has vices. He is a drunkard. How do I know? May be it is one of the many misunderstandings of father. It may be or may not be. I must have confidence in me. I can tickle a rock and make a sword blossom.” Janaki laughed at her own thoughts. She came out into the verandah, opening the door.

The procession has started from the temple. A beautiful multicoloured firework tore the darkness into shreads ...

“Yea...keep it a secret till the marriage is over,” Yerram Reddy was saying with a heavy drunken drone, in her father’s room.

“What is that secret?” thought Janaki.

“Now-a-days girls behave peculiarly–especially the educated ones...But here the fault is mine. I came to know of it only recently. I thought it was wiser to tell you personally rather

than…..”

Janaki went near the window in spite of herself.

“That is all right. Leave it to me. Let us come to the main point.” Narasa Reddy’s voice showed drunken impatience.

“Don’t bring it up once again. What I said is final,” Yerram Reddy said.

“Then the marriage is out of question. You are undermining the membership of the assembly. It is a state-level post. You will have chances of rubbing your shoulders with very big people. What is this Samiti presidentship worth for? A dirty post!” Yerram Reddy thundered one more of his laughters, which reverberated through the verandah. “I want only that dirty post,” Narasa Reddy said indignantly. “If we refuse to change our attitude, what has been happening will continue to happen in future also. If we run the elections, it is sure as anything, that both of us lose and somebody pins us to the wall. It is high time for us to unite. If we don’t, we have no future politically,” Yerram Reddy said appeasingly.

Narasa Reddy was trying to think it over….Chandram came out of his room. Janaki’s heart missed a beat. She pressed herself into the deeper shadows of the verandah. Chandram hurled an empty bottle into the backyard and went in.

“What is that?” Yarram Reddy asked.

“Nothing”, answered Narasa Reddy.

“I heard the sound of a bottle breaking.”

“Some sound in the cow-shed”, Narasa Reddy was fumbling with words. There was silence for a while.

Once again Janaki came near the window.

“You have not answered my question,” Yerram Reddy said again. Your proposal is not acceptable to me. You leave the Samiti presidentship to me. My daughter is a first class post-graduate. You don’t know what great a sacrifice I am making,” Narasa Reddy said.

Janaki felt as though the earth under her feet were giving away. “So this is the root of everything. I am just a pawn in this political game of chess, a sacrificial lamb in the worship of Goddess Power”, she thought helplessly. “You are refusing to understand my point. As a matter of fact nobody likes this marriage in our village,” Yerram Reddy exploded.

“The same story here also. Here everybody thinks that you are tricking me into something,” Narasa Reddy snorted.

Janaki stood there, pressed to the shadow on the wall, horrified, hearig to her heartbeat.

There was a long pause of silence. At last it was broken by the thunderous laughter of Yerram Reddy.

“Agreed. You have won. It is a deal.”

The laughter of Yarram Reddy appeared like a sacrificial cry to Janaki. “What should I do? Shall I go in and say that I don’t like this alliance or shall I allow myself to be sacrificed by them,” Janaki was thinking.

Suddenly she heard someone coming up the stairs. Hurriedly she went to her room. Naganna was coming up.

“Naganna,” called Janaki.

“You have not slept, Janakamma?” Naganna asked surprised.

“I am not able to sleep.”

“The procession is at the end of the street. Your mother wants me to wake up all of you.”

“I am also coming. Let us go,” Narasa Reddy said coming out of his room. Janaki did not look at her father.

All of them came into the street. By then the procession had come and stopped in front of Reddy’s house. Lakshmidevamma came forward to give the Puja offerings to Gopalacharlu. He warded her aside with a smile and said, “Janaki, you give them.” Janaki came forward and handed over the silver plate, absentmindedly to Gopalacharlu.

Gopalacharlu was chanting hymns and doing Harati. Janaki looked at Sita. She could not find the bliss of marriage in her face. Sita’s face was dark and gloomy, thinking perhaps of the future exile in the forests.

“Goddess Sita is like my image in the mirror,” thought Janaki.

“May God bless you Janaki,” Gopalacharlu said, giving the Puja plate back. Janaki sighed silently. All went in.

“Janaki,” called Narasa Reddy going up the stairs. Janaki looked up and saw her father’s brandy-lit face.

“Your mother told me that this alliance is agreeable to you. I am glad. I have fixed up everything,” he said knitting his brow to control his fleecy thoughts.

“If you don’t misunderstand me...” Narasa Reddy looked questioningly into his daughter.

“I don’t like this alliance,” Janaki suddenly became bold.

Naganna, closing the door and Lakshmidevamma, going into the Puja room, were horrified and stood aghast.

“Why?” Narasa Reddy spat.

“I don’t like it. That is all.”

“Shut up. I don’t care for your likes and dislikes.”

A general shout, a hundred people shouting in unison, was heard from the street.

“It is my marriage. Naturally it ought to depend on my will alone. Doesn’t it? For your political gains you can’t….”

Janaki received a violent slap on her face and lost her balance. Before she could understand what is happening, she was rolling down the staircase. Naganna and Lakshmidevamma came running and helped Janaki to her feet.

Janaki stood there hurt–her blood singing with rage and shame and too angry to speak.

Gopalacharlu entered like a whirlwind, pushing the doors ajar, his cheeks wet with tears.

“Oh! Horrible, horrible, the most horrible thing has happened,” his voice was broken with grief.

“What happened?” Narasa Reddy asked.

“The palanquin is dropped by the bearers. The idols are thrown down.”

“Why?”

“The bearers are drunk,” Gopalacharlu said wiping his tears.

“Really?”

“Yes. The face of mother Sita is broken.”

There was silence for a few moments. Gopalacharlu looked at Janaki.

“Why Janaki, why are you like that? Why is there blood on your face!” he asked amazed.

“I fell down and was wounded,” Janaki’s tone was bland and even.

A strange comparison flashed through the mind of Gopalacharlu.

“So, you are also wounded,” he said.

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