Our Favourite Indian Stories (47 page)

Away from the lawn, some distance near the hedges, in the dark, strains of singing could still be heard. The impetuosity in Amman's nature made her intolerant of this sort of interference in her domain. She thought of going out and giving them a piece of her mind. What foulness they were mouthing! Don't you have mothers and daughters at home, you bastards? Kalo's eyes were getting heavy with sleep. The shadows in the shack, dancing to the tune of the moving candle light looked very frightening. Bapu lying unconscious was like a ghost and Amman a sorceress incarnate. How deep are the wrinkles on her face! The upper two front teeth are missing! Was she the grand-daughter of this sorceress? Kalo broke into a cold sweat. She hastened to hide herself in the quilt.

Amman was too annoyed to get any sleep. The indecent voices of the drunkards outside were coming closer, "
Mali! Mali!
" inflamed by anger, Amman picked up the lamp and came out. The drunkards, rolling on the grass sat up holding their breath when they saw the light coming in their direction. Amman was confused with rage. Even in the light of the lamp she could not see anything. Suddenly, she stumbled upon a brick at the edge of the flower bed. The tin lamp flew out of her hand. Everything was drowned in darkness. She could not even hold herself up. The hands of darkness seemed to catch her in their grip. A hand gagged her mouth tight. She could neither shriek nor cry. In the darkness, different voices whispered the same sentence, one after another, 'How she warbles, like a
Koel
!' Then the darkness and stillness thickened. Amman dipped into the well of unconsciousness, down and down, to the bottom!

Next morning when Pheenu emerged from sleep, he rubbed his eyes for sometime. His insides seemed to be on fire. He gulped some water to calm himself. Picking up a broom he made a move towards the park. He was surprised to notice that the water in the canal had come down to knee level. The canal was muddy. In the lawn lay some torn clothes, empty bottles and tins strewn around. Seeing a naked woman lying in their midst, he mouthed a terribly foul invective. Coming closer and seeing the clothes in shreds, he remembered the contractor. I wonder whom they had brought here to commit sin! Was this a park or a whorehouse? If the police came to know, he would be the first to be harassed.
Chh
... he covered his eyes with his arm and spat.

Getting still closer, he was struck speechless. He felt as if a big hole had sprung in the earth under his feet. Underneath, was a bottomless ocean. In the ocean were waves dragging him into dark caves full of algae. He did not know how to get out of the hole.

Moving up, he saw Amman's body. It had turned stiff like a log of wood: it bore marks of injury at different places. A dog was going around her body. Nose to ground, it was sniffing at the parts of her body covered with blood. Pheenu clenched his teeth and threw a stone at the dog. It ran away. The stone had hit the tin lamp lying near the dislodged brick. All of a sudden, Pheenu seemed to catch the thread of all that had passed before he had become unconscious and all that must have happened thereafter.

But these threads were unconnected, without any link. To link them and come to some conclusion was beyond him. After the sweets and rounds of glasses full of liquor, he wondered what had been said.

The pieces of sweets he had kept in his pocket last night, were still there. What should he do? He was at his wit's end. Can a brick that breaks be put together again? What should he do with the brick of his house which was now broken? Without it the entire roof would come down!. A straw structure with weak foundations would not be able to withstand a single shower of rain. What would become of Kalo? He put his hands on his head and squatted on the ground.

It was daylight. At the temple of Hanuman, bells were ringing. He gathered the corpse, put it on his shoulders and took it inside the hut. Kalo was fast asleep. Pheenu's wail startled her and she sat up. Then she fixed her eyes on her father. He was wailing. 'Amman, don't leave me, Don't go. You should have at least thought of your Kalo.' Kalo got up and went to the corpse. She lifted the sheet of cloth to see her face and pulled back in fright. 'So, they have killed the crow?' She murmured. She felt that Amman was actually a sorceress. How dreadful she looked! Pheenu kept striking his head against Amman's chest, crying all the while 'Hai Amman. Hai Amman.' Kalo looked on, petrified.

It appeared to be noisier outside than inside. Had something worse happened outside? She got up and came out. She heard shouts outside the gate of the park—

Vota da kun haqdar?
(Who deserves to get the vote?)

Duloram Thekedarl
(Duloram the Contractor!)

Jittega bhai jittega
(He will win, surely he will win!)

Ghode ala jittega!
(The one whose symbol is the horse will win!)

 

She saw that the boys were dancing a
bhangra
on the stone slab where Amman used to sit. She flared up, picked up a broom and ran towards them. Before she could get to the slab, the boys had jumped into the water.

'Kalo, we hear that a vampire has chewed up your Amman?'

'Outside the park, there is also a crow lying dead.'

'Your Amman's soul has found release?'

She picked up some clods and began throwing them at the boys who swam across to the bank on the other side.

She kept looking at them with burning eyes. Then, as she moved to retreat, one of them said, 'Wonder if the old woman's soul has entered Kalo now?'

Kalo had covered some distance when her eyes fell on a dislodged brick. This reminded her of Amman. How much care she used to take of these flowerbeds! She glanced towards the slab where the canopy of leaves was swaying in the wind. It was absolutely empty. It was a scene of complete desolation. Even though the sun shone, raindrops kept falling. Across the canal, on the other bank, the boys were rejoicing. 'Hey! ah!
buddhi da by ah..'

(See, see, the old woman's wedding!)

Eyes full of tears, Kalo dug at the ground to put back the brick. Bapu's wailing became loud and relentless.

Translated by
Shivnath

Chandrakant Keni

Sunday

It was five in the evening and raining heavily. One look at the looming black sky told me it wasn't going to stop soon. It was already getting dark. I was driving home quite slowly when I saw this girl thumbing a lift. She had no umbrella or raincoat and was completely soaked. I stopped my car and invited her in.

'Thank you,' she said.

'Where are you going?'

'Anywhere under a shelter.'

I took her home with me. My wife was astonished to see me with this hippie girl.

She was wet and shivering. I told my wife to take her inside and give her a change of clothes.

Half an hour later she emerged in a sari, her hair tied in a bun. She had put
kumkum
on her forehead. She came into the sitting room and posed before me.

'How do I look?'

Sexy, was the word that came to my mind, but since my wife was standing behind me, I only murmured:

'You look like the typical Indian woman.'

She laughed and settled comfortably in a chair. We chatted for a while, sipping hot tea and eating the savouries my wife had fried for us.

Her name was Cinderella. She came from France. She had been in India for the last six months. Before that she had studied science at a college in France. She was twenty years old but looked nearly thirty. She lived in Colva along with several other hippies.

'What made you go out in this rain without even a raincoat or an umbrella?'

'I don't buy such things. That's the only way to know the joys of getting wet in the rain. Have you ever tried doing that?'

'Very romantic, I'm sure, but frankly, getting wet is not my idea of tun.'

'How can you sit here cooped up inside this prison while all Nature is dancing at your doorsteps? If you want to know what true happiness really means get out of the four walls of this room.'

I appreciated her point of view, but I knew it wouldn't have suited me at all.

'Why do you wander about like this? Why have you abandoned your home and your education?'

'For a new wisdom, for a new way of life, here in the lap of Mother Nature!'

'But how did your parents allow you to go?'

Cinderella laughed. For a while neither of us spoke. Then she said: 'Do this — come and spend a few days with us.'

I accepted the invitation without batting an eyelid, and asked her, 'But won't your people make me feel out of place among you?'

'We don't usually like strangers poking and prying around us, but you're different. You're an intelligent, responsible person. Having you for a few days isn't going to hurt us.'

'Suppose I find your way of life so enticing that I desert my family for you?'

'I'll consider that an achievement on my part!'

Cinderella had dinner with us that evening. After that my wife and I dropped her at Colva. She had put on her own clothes before leaving, but she hadn't wiped off the
kumkum
.

 

Sunday

I ran into Cinderella again when I visited Colva today. It wasn't pouring this time. She was on her way to the beach. Alone. She asked me to join her. We went and sat on the wet sand. Her loose, long hair billowed in the sea breeze. She wore a flimsy shirt that fluttered over her chest. The top two buttons of her shirt weren't fastened and every now and then my eyes strayed there.

'Cinderella, tell me. Why do people wear clothes?'

My question made her a little self-conscious and she put on one of the buttons.

She said, 'To cover one's body, I suppose...'

'From whom?'

'Not from the view of others. But from the cold, the rain, the sun.'

'So that's your sartorial philosophy, is it?'

'What's yours?'

'Human beings can't live outside society; so they should behave decently if only for the sake of others. Birds and animals don't dress but humans do. If they do, they should do it properly.'

'What about your
sadhus
and
sanyasis
?'

'They have renounced the world.'

'So have we!'

'But there is no vice in their world; I'm not sure about yours.'

'I know what you're trying to suggest about us hippies, and you're wrong! By your line of thinking all our males should be rapists, considering the number of naked women they see every day. The truth is quite the opposite, if anything.'

'You must be accustomed to this. But what about our boys and girls who are not?'

'We don't intrude into their world; they shouldn't in ours.'

'How can we avoid that? You wander about on the beach, in the city...'

'In what way are we indecent?'

'When our adolescent boys see young women with not a stitch on, they might get the wrong ideas about sex.'

'What you're saying is you repress Nature in the name of Morality. Let your boys and girls live in freedom. Then they won't have any trouble with immoral thoughts.'

'That's only half-true. Total freedom will only lead them to lust after one another's bodies.'