Mahashweta Read online

  ‘Anupama, who taught you all this philosophy?’ Satya asked.

  ‘My experiences have taught me this. I have come to realize that courage and confidence are the real wealth in life. Education can improve your chances of success, but ultimately you have to face life all alone. I don’t depend on any guru nor do I read any philosophy. My conscience is my guru and it guides me well.’

  Satya picked up courage and asked, ‘Anupama, I will ask you a personal question. If you do not want to answer, I will not mind. But I am curious—do you think of Anand often?’

  ‘I do sometimes, but I want to forget him. It is better to concentrate on things that give me confidence and happiness. I like history, literature and drama. I am extremely fond of my students as they are of me. I believe that when students love the teacher, they learn to love the subject, too. A teacher is forever young at heart. History has taught me a great lesson. People who built forts and won many kingdoms are not remembered today. I don’t do my work so that somebody should remember me; I do it because it gives me satisfaction and contentment.’

  ‘Anupama, do you consider yourself unfortunate?’

  ‘No, Satya. Of the thousands of flowers that blossom on a tree only a few will bear fruit. And out of those few fruits, insects and squirrels will eat some. The tree does not keep anything for itself. Does that mean that the life of the tree is wasted? I have great friends and good students, and I am economically independent. I neither worry about the past, nor brood over the future. I accept life as it comes and I don’t have any regrets.’

  EIGHT

  The morning breeze was pleasant but there was a nip in the air. Anand wrapped a scarf around his neck, afraid that the weather would give him a cold, and then a cough.

  In life, every decision has a side-effect, too, he mused, and we should always calculate the pros and cons of a particular course of action before taking a decision. But somehow. . .Anand sighed. His mind stubbornly continued to recall the things he wished to forget, made a conscious effort to forget. He tried to rationalize his decisions, but his mind was in constant turmoil.

  Normally, he took his morning walk in his garden, which was spread over an acre of land. There were so many fruit trees and flower-beds that the combined fragrance would waft in the breeze and make the entire house smell sweet. When Girija came from Bangalore with her baby daughter for a visit, the gardener plucked the flowers from various plants and strung them for her to wear in her hair. Radhakka was no longer interested in all those things; she had grown old, and arthritis had crippled her body.

  And what of Anupama? Anand’s thoughts stopped as he reached the parijata tree. The ground below it was covered with its beautiful and delicate flowers. Radhakka always said, ‘This is the flower brought by Lord Krishna to please his queen, Rukmini.’ As far as Anand was concerned, the parijata always reminded him of Anupama.

  When he had left for England, his heart had been in India. Anand was very ambitious by nature. In an attempt to discourage him from going, Anupama had said, ‘We just got married. Why do you have to go to England now? We already have everything we could possibly need. Besides, Mother is growing old; we should stay near her.’ Anand had told her, ‘Anu, you don’t understand life. If you go to England and get a degree, then the people here respect you. And, after all, it is just for three years.’ His mother’s wishes and his wife’s entreaties had not dissuaded him in the least.

  In England, Anand had met Nalini Pathak. She was a doctor from Bombay, who believed that, with her fair skin, green eyes, and auburn hair, she was very beautiful. Anand, however, thought she was not a patch on Anupama. Nalini was hurt when he made no attempts to be friendly with her. She had approached him one evening and said, ‘Anand, don’t you have any time at all to talk to your colleagues?’

  ‘No, I hardly get any free time.’

  ‘This is the best period of our lives. We are young and we don’t have any responsibilities; we should enjoy ourselves now.’

  ‘That is true, Nalini. But this is also the time for us to study and build our careers.’ Anand cut her short and went away.

  He was eagerly waiting for Anupama to arrive. Then, Nalini would understand the meaning of real beauty. He would feel happy for days after speaking to Anupama or receiving a letter from her. He could have brought her with him, but his mother had put her foot down. ‘Anand, I have accepted the girl you have chosen, and she should accept my condition. She can go only after the Lakshmi puja is completed successfully. Don’t hurt me by saying no.’

  Anand could not refuse his mother’s plea. She had not only consented to the alliance without a fuss but had also borne the expenditure of the entire wedding. Had it not been for her, he would never have been able to marry his dream girl. It was a question of two months. He would bide his time and somehow get through the separation. Anand had no way of anticipating the tornado that would sweep through his life.

  It had begun with the fateful letter he received from Radhakka. Though it contained only a few lines, it broke his heart.

  Your wife Anupama has a white patch on her foot, which she had concealed from everyone. It seems she has been taking treatment secretly from before the marriage. Girija had also suspected it. Now she has gone to her father’s place. I have spoken to the doctor and he says it might take a long time to cure her. She must complete the treatment before coming back. The presence of a woman with a white patch is not acceptable during auspicious occasions such as Lakshmi puja; I will not risk the purity of the household. That is my faith and belief.

  Anand was aghast. He read the letter several times, unable to imagine Anupama disfigured with white patches. Anupama’s letter reached him the next day. He opened it reluctantly—it contained her version of the story.

  Anand had always had a weakness for beauty. It inspired him to always choose the best of everything. The financial status of his family had only served to encourage his predilection. His friends had often joked, ‘Hey Anand, considering you take so long to choose your clothes, how will you find someone to marry? You will probably be old by the time you get married. We may not have the opportunity to see your bride at all.’

  But Anand had married before any of his friends, and his bride had been the most beautiful girl in the neighbourhood. His friends had even been a bit jealous of his good fortune. ‘Congratulations, Anand. She fulfils all your criteria,’ they had said. Anand had felt then that he was the luckiest man on earth. Anupama was not just his wife, she was the index of his pride.

  When Anand had first found out that she had leukoderma, he was filled with revulsion. As a doctor he knew that it was not always curable. If it did not respond to treatment, it would spread to her face, to her red lips, her beautiful fingers. . .everywhere. He did not wish to imagine how she would look. There was nothing he could do, and the more he thought about her, the uglier she became in his imagination. What would his friends say? ‘Oh! Look at poor Anand. He takes so much time to choose a simple shirt, and if the shirt starts to fade, he discards it. What will he do with his wife?’ Some would say, ‘Serves him right for being such a perfectionist.’

  Anand had never experienced failure in his life till then. Life had always been a bed of roses for him. Some people thought it was luck, but his mother belived that it was the result of her prayers. Facing disappointment for the first time in his life, he found that he was unable to cope with it. Unlike his mother, Anand knew for sure that there had been no white patch on Anupama’s foot before their marriage. I wish Anupama had had this condition before we got married. Things would have been so different then.

  He met Nalini Pathak on his way back from college a few days later. She said, ‘Oh Anand, have you already started preparing for the exams?’

  Anand did not reply. He was lost in thought about life’s exams, which were far more difficult. Once you fail, it is the end. This is the only life we have—who knows for sure if one is reborn? We can enjoy or destroy our life. Everything is in our own hands, mused A