Gently Falls the Bakula Read online

  Prabha was a friendly, open, person. Though Shrimati and she were different in nature they were very good friends. Prabha did not take life seriously. She did not think too deeply about anything either. Whenever Harish went on tour, she would go to Agra. She had a big friends’ circle even in Bombay. All of them would often go out for lunch or shopping.

  ‘Prabha, why don’t you have another child? Amol will also have company.’

  ‘Are you mad, Shrimati! I had a lot of problems during pregnancy and I do not want to go through it again. ‘

  The conversation was interrupted by Meher Engineer.

  ‘Hi, Shrimati! You are looking so beautiful. How do you manage to stay so slim? Do you go to Figurette at Bandra? It seems all film stars go there. I wish I were in Bandra,’ Mrs Engineer said wistfully, looking down at her obese body. Mr Engineer was a well-known builder.

  They were joined by Prema Malhotra, wife of an advertising executive. ‘Shrimati! How nice to see you again. What are your plans for the weekend? It seems there is a diamond jewellery exhibition on at Tribhuvandas Zaveri. All of us have decided to go. Why don’t you come with us?’ she said.

  ‘Sorry, I may not be able to come. Shri might be at home.’

  ‘Oh c’mon Shrimati! You behave like a perfect housewife. When our men don’t bother about us and travel all the time for their work, we also should spend our time the way we want.’ That was the advice given by the elderly, in fact seniormost lady, Indumathi Sukhtankar.

  Shrimati was feeling sick. Sarees, jewellery always brought her bad memories. They would remind her of Gangakka’s taunts. Gangakka wanted her daughter-in-law to be simple but her daughter could wear the best of sarees and loads of gold ornaments. If Shrimati bought an expensive saree, Gangakka would shout at her for wasting Shrikant’s money.

  Rama had an indirect way of mocking her, ‘Shrimati, for your complexion, pearl jewellery might be better than gold!’ suggesting that Shrimati was darker than Shrikant. But there is no use thinking of all that now, thought Shrimati, and went back to the guests.

  Shrikant had noticed that his wife was not her normal self that day and on the pretext of taking his wallet from her, he went up to Shrimati and softly but firmly told her in Kannada, ‘Shrimati, what’s wrong with you? You have not spoken to Jacob! Go and talk to him and his wife immediately.’

  The chief guests for the evening, Jacob and Dolly Lynes, had arrived a few minutes earlier. Dolly had an artificial smile on her lips. She was a party person. She attended and hosted a hundred such parties throughout the year.

  Shrimati went up to them and with a smile, greeted them. After some small talk, Dolly said to Shrimati, ‘It seems you are very knowledgeable in history? You must have got your doctorate in America. ‘

  Shrimati replied curtly, ‘No, I am just an MA from my hometown.’

  ‘Oh, is that so? Then how did you manage to acquire so much knowledge and sophistication?’

  Shrimati did not bother to answer that question.

  For Dolly, the answer was not important. She was just making conversation.

  ‘Well, Shrimati, then you must study the ancient and splendid history of America.’

  ‘Excuse me, Dolly. Your history is neither ancient nor splendid. The success of America is the result of technical progress and implementation of the innovative ideas that were born in some other country. Your country’s history is the youngest in the world.’

  ‘I don’t understand . . .’

  ‘Take the example of SAP software. It was innovated in Germany but implemented in the US and today the whole world thinks it is an American invention . . .’

  Shrikant’s sharp ears caught Shrimati’s cold and harsh remarks.

  What was Shrimati talking about? This was not the kind of thing to say at a party. Dolly was the power behind Jacob. Why argue with such a person?

  Here he was trying to please everyone, and there was Shrimati being so blunt. Shrikant was worried that she might spoil things for him and ruin his business dealings. A man of great common sense, he knew that if someone’s clothes were stuck on a thorn bush, it was better to gently free the garment than pull it off.

  Shrikant joined the conversation.

  ‘Hello, Dolly! You look wonderful! How was your trip to Jaipur?’

  This was an indication for Shrimati to stop being blunt. But she deliberately ignored it.

  ‘Oh, Shrikant, it was lovely. I can see so much Western influence in India. Look at the name of this room for instance. It is such a beautiful French name.’

  Neither Dolly nor Shrikant knew what La Giaconda meant.

  Shrimati could not resist. ‘It is not a mere French name. It is the name of the world-famous painting of Leonardo da Vinci, the Mona Lisa, the lady with the enigmatic smile. It is her the room is named after. If one goes to Paris and one has the time and the inclination to visit the Louvre, one can see the Mona Lisa there.’

  Shrikant was taken aback. He felt that this was an insult to Dolly. Shrimati was not behaving like a charming hostess. On the contrary, she was being rude to his guest!

  How did it matter if it was La Giaconda or Mona Lisa. Getting business was Shrikant’s ultimate intention.

  The party went on as usual. Shrikant did not disturb Shrimati again.

  TWENTY-THREE

  While returning from the party, Shrikant was not his placid self. He was fuming. He wanted to talk to Shrimati. He could not wait till they reached home so he started the conversation in Kannada. Even in that situation he took care that Maruthi, his driver, should not understand the contents of the conversation.

  ‘Shrimati, what is the matter with you? Why did you insult Dolly? Who wanted your knowledge of history?’

  ‘Shri, I did not go there to exhibit my knowledge. For that matter, I did not even want to go. Even if I had wanted to show off, there was no one there who would have understood it. Look at Dolly! Look at her arrogance! The way she looks down upon India—she believes that we have to learn everything from their country. Look at Professor Collins or Dorothy. They are so knowledgeable and yet humble. Education should bring simplicity and modesty.’

  ‘Enough of your lecture, Shrimati. Don’t talk about your worthless subject. The world of business is so different from yours. History cannot feed you. Don’t behave like a historian at such parties. You should remember that you represent our company and must be loyal to it. After all, what is there in India’s history to boast so much about?’ Shrikant paused.

  Shrimati was tremendously hurt. She did not answer. Whatever language they had spoken in, Maruthi would know that husband and wife were quarrelling. When they reached home, Shrikant changed into his night-dress and picked up the Economic Times. He usually glanced at the headlines in the morning as there wasn’t enough time to read in detail. But at night he read it carefully. That day, he was so upset by the incident that though he was holding the paper, he was unable to read.

  Shrimati was more upset than him. Her mind was seething. For the first time in ten years of marriage, Shrikant had attacked her individual freedom. What had he said? Shrimati recalled his words. Don’t talk about your worthless history. The world of business is so different from yours. History cannot feed you. Don’t behave like a historian at such parties. You should remember that you represent our company . . . After all, what is there in India’s history to boast so much about?

  She too could have said many things to him, ‘Shri, do not forget that you are not only the director of a company. You are also the husband of Shrimati who is sensitive and sentimental about Indian history. Do not measure everything in terms of profit and loss.’ But she had not said that. She had never talked ill of anybody, or deliberately hurt Shrikant. But today his sharp words had chopped the tender tree of their relationship.

  Shrimati snatched the paper that Shrikant was trying to read.

  ‘Shri, tell me what was your intention in saying all that in the car? I have not done anything to bring down your prestige.’ The norma