Mahashweta Read online

  Anand was born five years into her marriage—the result of many pilgrimages and prayers for a male child. He was the apple of her eye, a fountain of joy in her barren life. She would smile when he smiled; and when he wept, gloom would descend on her. Even though they had several servants at home, it was she who fed and looked after him. Anand grew up in a sheltered environment. He was good at studies and extremely obedient to his mother. He always felt she was the person responsible for all his progress. Anand inherited his mother’s looks and his father’s intelligence.

  His sister Girija was born five years after him. She had been brought up like a princess. Good-looking and extremely arrogant, Girija behaved harshly with everybody, and nobody had the courage to remonstrate with her. Radhakka would always find excuses for her conduct, ‘Oh, she is only a child, after all,’ she would say. Girija was not good at studies, but no one bothered about it.

  Their house was named Lakshmi Nivas. It was aptly named in every way—it was a big mansion in a large plot of land. Every Deepavali, Radhakka would organize a big puja for the goddess Lakshmi, and the entire town would be invited for the celebration.

  Radhakka was extremely orthodox and narrow-minded. When her husband died, the thought that she was a widow made her feel very uncomfortable although she had no financial worries. With the death of her husband, she felt she could no longer celebrate the puja of the goddess, given the attitudes and conventions prevailing in the small town where she lived. She believed that only Anand’s wife could now perform the Lakshmi puja, and she was waiting for him to get married. Although he had won a scholarship to go to England for higher studies, Radhakka would not let him go until after his marriage.

  The village schoolmaster, Shama Rao,—Shamanna, as he was called—was teaching mathematics in the verandah of his home to a group of students who were all from well-off families. In keeping with the usual custom in the village, no money was paid to the teacher, but the children brought him coconuts, vegetables or other produce from their fields.

  Shamanna’s mind was not on what he was teaching. He was impatiently waiting to hear the sound of the village postman’s cycle bell. Since the small village was located some distance from the district headquarters, the postman came once a week. He not only delivered the letters, but, if necessary, also read them out and wrote the replies as dictated to him. He would stay at the village master’s house and leave the following morning for the next village.

  Vasudha, Shamanna and Sabakka’s daughter, was helping her mother in the kitchen. Though Sabakka was busy chopping vegetables, she came out every five minutes to see if the postman had come.

  The postman, Papanna, brought a pile of letters when he arrived. There were two letters for Shamanna. He opened one and began reading. The children noticed that he was occupied and started whispering among themselves, the whispers quickly turning into a quarrel. The noise distracted Shamanna. He was already upset by the contents of the letter, and this unruly behaviour angered him further.

  ‘Children, go home now. For your homework, write out the multiplication tables from twenty-one to thirty, three times each, and show it to me tomorrow.’

  The children behaved as if the doors of a cage had been opened, and they disappeared within moments.

  The letter Shamanna was reading was from the father of a boy who had come with a marriage proposal. Anupama, though the eldest, had told her father very clearly that she did not want to marry just yet as she wished to pursue her studies, or start working. She had also requested her father to go ahead with Nanda’s marriage. As Nanda was not interested in studying and was ready to get married, he had tried to arrange her marriage, and she had been ‘seen’ by a prospective bridegroom and his family.

  It seems your eldest daughter Anupama is doing her MA in the city. Our son happened to see her in a play and liked her immensely. If you do not object to it, instead of your second daughter, we would prefer an alliance with your eldest daughter. We do not expect any dowry. Whatever you choose to give will be sufficient. We will be very happy if you accept this proposal. Please do not misunderstand us. After all, marriages are made in heaven. We are sure Nanda will get a better match.

  ‘Oh, is there a letter from the Patils? It’s been a while since they came to see Nanda,’ Sabakka asked excitedly when she came from the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, the letter is from them. But they have not approved of the match.’

  The colour drained from Sabakka’s face. ‘That day they spoke as if they wished to go ahead with the alliance. What made them change their mind?’

  ‘Well, they have changed their mind now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The same old story. This boy, too, wants to marry Anupama,’ Shamanna replied hesitantly, knowing what her reaction would be.

  Sabakka was furious. ‘When did that fellow see Anu? We never even mentioned her name! Did you say anything?’

  ‘No. It seems he saw her in a play.’

  Sabakka’s anger knew no bounds, ‘This apsara won’t get married herself and insists on destroying my girls’ lives!’

  The sound of Nanda’s sobbing fuelled Sabbaka’s animosity towards Anupama. She went in and tried to console her heartbroken child.

  Shamanna started reading the next letter. When he had read it, he was overcome with surprise. He re-read it to make sure he had understood the contents correctly. He could hardly contain his joy and excitement as he called out to Sabakka.

  ‘What is it? I am busy.’

  ‘Do you remember my old school friend, Dr Desai?’

  ‘Ah! That famous professor. . .Will you tell him to find a good bridegroom for our daughter?’ Sabakka was desperate to see her own daughters married. She said, ‘I have two daughters to be married, and looking out for suitable alliances is no joke. You need not worry about Anu. She will always have boys chasing after her.’

  ‘Stop talking rubbish about Anu. She would never look twice at any boy. If the boys chase after her, it is not her fault. Dr Desai has written about a boy. His name is Anand. He is also a doctor. His father was Gopala Rao, a very famous contractor.’

  ‘We will never be able to match their expectations. Tell the doctor to suggest someone within our reach.’

  ‘That is true. But, Anand has seen Anupama and. . .’

  ‘And what?’ Sabakka’s heart skipped a beat. She fervently prayed that such a rich boy would not choose Anupama.

  But God was deaf to her prayers.

  ‘Dr Desai has written that Anand likes Anupama and has asked me to send Anupama’s horoscope to Anand’s mother.’

  Sabakka was silent.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Anything I say will appear unkind. I am only her stepmother, after all. You are her father, so you decide.’

  Shamanna tried to reason with his wife. ‘You are her mother. Anu has always been respectful towards you. Why do you always find fault with her? If the boy likes her, it is not her doing. Tell me what you think.’

  ‘If you really want to know my opinion. . .don’t proceed with this match. There is no comparison between their financial status and ours. Marriage should always be among equals. What is wrong with my brother, Ranga? He might be a little dark but he has a diploma in engineering. So what if the age difference is ten years? He won’t ask for a paisa. Talk to Anupama, she will listen to you.’

  ‘No. He is not the right match for our Anu. As a mother, you should not suggest anything like that.’

  ‘I do not differentiate between Anu and Nanda. If Ranga agrees to marry Nanda, I will be all for it.’

  Inside, Nanda was gazing at the ceiling of the old house. There were cobwebs everywhere, and the sun was peeping in through the broken tiles. She told herself, Even if everyone agrees to this, I will not. . .She knew very well that Ranga would never approve of her dark skin and large nose.

  Shamanna did not talk until lunchtime. Sabakka took his silence as a positive sign. ‘Please think it over. Let us not proceed. We neither know w