‘Didi, please, don’t you have anything else to talk about?’
‘Won’t you ever get married?’
‘No, I won’t.’
‘You’ve grown up to be such an old maid without ever falling in love, or is it that you haven’t wanted to. Don’t you have a heart and body?’
‘When did I say that I don’t? Love is something else. Don’t I love you?’
‘What difference will that make? That Punjabi nursing sister Kanta says, “If a eunuch sleeps with another eunuch, nobody gets anything.”’
‘Please stop. Isn’t there anything else in the world besides sex?’
‘Don’t you need sex? Or are you not normal?’
‘You might say so. I don’t need all that.’
‘Then we must have you medically examined.’
‘Didi, should I get up and leave you?’
‘Hm.’
Mercy finished eating, drank some water and reaching for a plate of freshly cut mango, said in English, ‘Listen Tara, you’re in denial. You’re trying to fool yourself. A difference of two or three years in age is acceptable. In your heart you feel attracted to him. You’ve been silent since the day his letter arrived. You’re afraid to let yourself go.’
‘No, didi, it’s not really like that. You’ve misunderstood the whole thing,’ Tara said in a serious tone. ‘I didn’t tell you about her before, but I have a cousin. Her husband is tormenting her for no reason. She has a two-year-old baby boy. I’ve been worrying about her. What if that stupid husband of hers throws her out? She doesn’t even have enough education to stand on
her own two feet.’ Tara covered her eyes with her aanchal. Sheelo’s face had swum before her eyes.
Mercy ate in silence for a while. She said as she got up, ‘It’s a different matter if you want her to stay here for a couple of days. But as I’ve told you in the beginning, I can’t have more than one person here, and you know how children are.’
Tara had laid down to rest, but she dozed off. It was 5.30 when she woke up. She wanted to go to Shakti Nagar, but did not have the strength. Another time, she thought.
The thought of Sheelo was constantly on her mind. Tara decided not to take seriously what Narottam had said; she felt that she did not have to worry about him. But what would become of that poor Sheelo? If her husband was tormenting her, why did she not tell him, even swear if she had to, that the baby was his? What’s the harm in saying so, just to calm him down? Perhaps that stupid girl thinks that if she swore by putting her hand on his head, it might kill him. She couldn’t bear him to touch her, but was willing to go hungry unless he had eaten first. Who else but a Hindu woman could be so servile and completely ignorant! What if Mohanlal did throw her out? Should I look for a larger accommodation? I should be able to get something for sixty or eighty rupees per month. We’ll both live together. It’s my destiny that I end up always with abused women. First it was Banti, now Sheelo. A man can throw out a woman whenever he wants!
The thought passed her mind: Why not find Ratan and discuss the problem with him? Memories came back to her of her own girlhood. How Ratan used to tease her, and how she had quarrelled with him! She liked him, but his teasing put her off. And how disgusted she had felt when she saw him kissing Sheelo! She had been angry with him, but was envious of Sheelo. Then there had been Asad! And now this Narottam episode! Tara had no objection to falling in love, but was relieved that she had not got into trouble like Sheelo. Love created such problems! ‘Should I ask Ratan to take responsibility for Sheelo? But hadn’t he already asked Sheelo to elope with him! He’ll surely agree to take her in now. And who is there in this unfamiliar city to object? My past dislike of him was foolish. He’s not such a bad person. But I’ll have to ask Sheelo first. Maybe her husband will straighten himself out after a few days of complaining, but that idiot
Sheelo says that she can’t stand him. She’s as stubborn as a mule. I hope she doesn’t do anything foolish to herself.’
Mercy had a high-quality radio in her apartment, but neither of them ever listened to it. Some Punjabi refugees had moved into the apartment across the gali. Their radio played at full volume and was seldom switched off. Either the whole family was hard of hearing, or they wanted the whole gali to profit from their radio. On Monday morning Tara was having something to eat before going to the office when a classical song came over the radio in a female voice:
Aye ri aalee, pia bin
Mohe kala na parat, sakhi, ghari pala chhin
Aye ri aalee, pia bin
Jabse piya pardes gaban kino
Ratiyan katat monsaun taare gin gin…
Sister o’mine, without my darling
I know no peace every hour every minute every heartbeat
Sister o’mine,
Ever since he’s gone away
My nights are spent counting the stars…
Tara let her thoughts wander: The singer might be feeling some longing for her beloved at the moment, but she would only learn her lesson after she’s suffered at his hands. Banti and Sheelo and Mrs Agarwal, had all been treated badly by their husbands! Which woman in my gali in Lahore was not cowed into submission by her spouse! Mercy wants to be with her lover, but she too will only learn from experience. Poor Sheelo.
Tara was going downstairs on her way to the office on Thursday when the telephone rang. Mercy was at the clinic. The telephone rang mostly for Mercy; for Tara only once in a fortnight. If Mercy was out, Tara would take a message and leave it for her.
She went back up and answered the telephone. ‘Please get me Tara bahinji,’ said a young boy’s voice, in a Punjabi accent. ‘Ghullu’s mum, Sheelo chachi, has asked Tara to come to her immediately.’
Tara wanted to know who was calling, and what the matter was, but the caller hung up.
It struck Tara that Sheelo must be facing some drastic situation. What should she do? It was just after nine o’clock and, therefore, too early to call her office to report her absence; even the peons would not have arrived at that hour. But she had to respond to Sheelo’s call for help.
Tara took a taxi to Sheelo’s place. She was in such a hurry that she got out and went into the building without paying her fare. Suman was keeping an eye on Ghullu outside the room. Sheelo lay on the charpoy under a sheet. Tara called out to her as she sat on the charpoy, and pulled the sheet away from Sheelo’s face.
Sheelo’s sallow face was the same colour of the yellow crepe kameez she had on. Her hair was matted, her eyes dry and bloodshot. Without getting up she put her arms around Tara and her head in Tara’s lap. She neither said a word, nor shed a tear.
Tara kissed her, and then asked, ‘What’s happened?’
Tara had to ask several times before Sheelo replied in a faint voice, ‘Take Ghullu away with you.’
When Sheelo refused to answer any more questions, Tara said firmly, ‘I won’t do any such thing unless you tell me what happened. If you won’t speak, I’ll sit here in silence too.’
Sheelo finally said, ‘Just do what I’ve asked you, nothing else.’
‘Why should I take him away? I won’t unless you explain first.’
Sheelo said, ‘I finally owned up last night. I was fed up and had no strength left in me. I told my husband, “Yes, Ratan is Ghullu’s father. Now kill me and my baby if you want.” This morning he said that he didn’t want me here anymore. He took all my jewellery, then told me to go back to my parents. He said that he’d put me on a train when he returned from the office. I’ve nowhere to go. You just take Ghullu away.’
Tara fell quiet on hearing this. From Sheelo’s dull look she had guessed what was on her mind. There was no point in asking any more questions. She sat thinking, with her head in hands and Sheelo’s head in her lap.
The taxi driver peered in and asked, ‘Bibiji, you want the taxi to wait?’
Tara pulled herself together and answered, ‘I’m coming.’ To Sheelo she said, ‘I’ll be back in half an hour. Wait here for me.’
Tara got into the taxi and told the driver to take her to Karol Bagh. The address she had was incomplete; all it said was: House number 3, Naai
Wali Gali. She had never been to Karol Bagh before. She was not sure of finding Ratan at home. And how would she explain to his parents why she had to talk to him?
On reaching Karol Bagh the driver parked the taxi near some newly built houses as he inquired about the address.
Tara suddenly called out, ‘Ratan bhappa!’
Ratan heard the call, turned around and came over. He leaned into the window of the taxi and stared with blank astonishment.
‘Sheelo’s going to kill herself,’ Tara blurted out, ignoring his shocked expression.
Ratan’s lips opened to pronounce Tara’s name but instead he asked the question, ‘What? …What’s happened?’
‘When did you see her last?’
‘It’s been several days.’
‘Come with me. I’ll explain,’ she said moving aside to make space for him in the back seat. The taxi drove back towards Shakti Nagar.
Tara said bluntly, ‘Sheelo has told everything to Mohanlal and he’s asked her to leave his house. She’s all set to commit suicide. She called me to take Ghullu away.’
Ratan listened with a dazed expression, ‘What should I do, please tell me.’
‘I can keep her with me for a couple of days. Can’t you arrange anything?’
‘I’ll do something.’
‘What will your parents say?’ Tara gave him a worried look.
‘They’ve gone to Dehra Dun. My aunt has passed away. They’ll be back on Monday.’
‘Will she be able to stay with you?’
‘Why not! And yes, where have you been all this time?’
‘Never mind about me. I’ll tell you everything later. Think of Sheelo first of all.’
Outside Sheelo’s room Tara called Suman and took Ghullu up. Holding Sheelo by the arm, Tara led her out of the room and into the taxi. Then she padlocked the door, handed the key to Suman and said, ‘Give this to Mohanlal. Sheelo is going to her mother’s.’
Narottam telephoned Tara on Saturday evening and spoke as if nothing had happened, ‘Charlie Chaplin’s
Modern Times
is being screened on Sunday
morning. Invite Mercy and the three of us can go. I’ll come around 8.30 and have breakfast at your place. We’ll have lunch in Connaught Place. Will that suit you?’
A weight was lifted from Tara’s heart. She accepted.
When she left the apartment with Narottam and Mercy on Sunday morning, Tara saw Ratan waiting for her in the gali. She stepped aside so as to speak to him alone.
Ratan had rented a place in a lane off Pachkuian Road and had moved Sheelo and the baby there in the evening of Saturday before his parents’ return. He had come to take Tara to his new home. Seeing Tara’s dilemma, he said, ‘It’s all right. I’ll come back around three o’clock or sometime in the late afternoon to take you there.’
Tara took a careful note of Ratan’s new address, and told him that she would go there on her own from Connaught Place.
While she watched a very entertaining, insightful and topical film and had lunch at the Palace, Tara in her heart was eager to be with Sheelo.
Ratan had explained that near a tailor’s shop on Pachkuian Road and down an alley past three houses she would see, next to a flight of stairs, the name Ratan on the door of a garage.
She located the garage and was about to knock on the door when she heard the familiar sound of Ratan’s voice inside, ‘Aha ji! Aha!’
Tara pushed gently and the unlocked door opened a little to show Ratan, his back to the door, sitting cross-legged on a chatai on the floor. One of his arms was around Sheelo sitting on of one of his knees, and he was holding Ghullu on the other knee as he rocked the child, ‘Aha ji
sadda tabbar
! What a nice family we are!’
Tara was about to step back in embarrassment but the sound of the door opening made both Ratan and Sheelo turn around. Sheelo began to get up but Ratan, not caring about Tara’s presence, did not let go of her. Sheelo simply covered her face shyly. Ghullu was gurgling happily, ‘O! O!’
Ratan said, ‘Tara, just look at my family!’ Tara’s heart brimmed with affection as tears filled her eyes. She scolded Ratan affectionately, ‘What’re you doing, Ratan bhappa! Why’re you bothering this poor girl?’
His arm still around Sheelo, he said to Tara, ‘Why call me brother? Call me brother-in-law!’
‘Never,
chandrya
—you lunatic! Sheelo’s younger than I am. I’m going
to call you by your name. It’s you who should address me as bahinji.’ Tara sat on the chatai and took Ghullu in her arms.
A quick look showed her that this place was not much different from Sheelo’s one room dwelling in Shakti Nagar. A charpoy by the wall, clothes hung from pegs and slung over a line. A shelf built into the wall held two aluminium pots, a couple of thalis and some mangoes. However, Ratan and Sheelo looked happy and contended.
Since Tara found it inconvenient to carry the bulky office dossiers home to work on them, she stayed on in the office and seldom reached home before half past six. The winter days being short, it would be dark by then. Mercy had seemed rather preoccupied for the last few days and was mostly out of the house. Chaddha would usually come to her apartment quietly every few weeks or would send her a message for a secret rendezvous. Mercy had not heard from him for several weeks now. To ease her mind Mercy would go visit her friends and acquaintances to forget her worries in small talk. Or she would go to the cinema.
A light rain was falling that afternoon, and it had become quite cold. Tara returned from the office and called, ‘Chimmo aunty, I’m nearly frozen. Make me a hot cup of tea and bring it to my room.’
She hung up her rain-drenched coat and crawled under the quilt on her bed. Chimmo was serving tea with a plate of
chirwa
—flattened rice fried with peanuts—on her bedside table when the doorbell rang. Tara was a little annoyed. If it was Narottam or Mathur, she thought, she’d have to receive them in the living room. She was wrapping a shawl around her shoulders when a young woman stepped into the living room. Tara was a little surprised to see her; it was Sita.
Tara called from the bedroom, ‘Sita, come in. What brings you here today? Come on in, it’s cold. Your coat must be soaked, take it off. Here’s a shawl. Come, the tea’s hot.’ She was talking to Sita in Punjabi, but broke into Hindi to summon Chimmo, ‘Chimmo aunty, please bring another cup.’ Slipping back under the quilt, she moved to the far side of the bed to make room for Sita.