Kanak looked at her wristwatch and got up, ‘I’ll go now, the tongawallah must be wondering what’s happened to me. Bahin, you must sit for the exams. Give namaste to Puriji from me, and my father’s message that we haven’t seen him for some time.’
Pandit Girdharilal gave Kanak twenty rupees and Kanchan fifteen every month as pocket money. Kanchan thought it unfair, but her father would affectionately wave aside her complaint, ‘But beta, you’re three years younger than Kanak.’ Kanchan often borrowed small amounts from Kanak, and her father had to make up for that too. Panditji never said no to his daughters if they wanted to buy clothes. Kanchan still liked to save up her money and buy something special for herself.
The sisters had got their pocket money for April ten days before. Kanak had few places to go to now, with the growing unrest in the city, and had seventeen rupees in her purse. Her sister Kanta had come the evening before and had left Kanak fifteen rupees to buy fine lace borders for Kanta’s white voile saris. Thirty-two rupees still did not amount to much. Kanak pondered over the problem until the following afternoon, and, with some trepidation, went to see her father. His assistant Vidhichand was also in the office. She quietly asked her father to come to the living room.
When Panditji came in, Kanak told him with a grim expression of regret, ‘Zubeida gave me seventy rupees for safekeeping. They had received the amount as donations for the peace committee. I seem to have lost the money when I went out.’
‘Oh! How did that happen, beta! You shouldn’t have accepted it for safekeeping, and if you did, you should have been more careful. You must realize your responsibility. When did it happen?’
‘The other day when I went out with her.’
Panditji searched his memory for the day, and said, ‘That was a while ago, why didn’t you tell me before? How do you know you lost it outside? Are you sure?’
‘I wasn’t carrying my purse that day.’ Kanak said, and pointed to the neckline of her blouse, ‘Just kept it here. Never lost anything before.’
‘That’s bad, it’s really bad.’ Panditji said regretfully. ‘When Zubeida comes next time, ask me for the money to give to her. And take care in future. You should learn to look after money.’
Kanak said looking at her hands, ‘I bumped into Zubeida yesterday on my way to Shanti Bhasin’s place. I promised to give her the money today. She also wants to talk to me.’
‘Achcha, I’ll give it to you now.’ Panditji returned to his office, withdrew a key from his desk drawer, and asked Vidhichand to take out seventy rupees from a safe. He handed the money to Kanak repeating his lecture about handling money carefully. He said, ‘Let me know after you’ve paid Zubeida back. All right, beta!’
Tara had told Kanak that Puri had been called to the party office on Tuesday at 3 o’clock. It was difficult to guess how long he would stay there. Kanak left home at 2.30 in the intense April sun on the pretext of meeting Zubeida. The bazaars were deserted in the heat of the afternoon sun. The owners dozed off behind the partly closed doors of their shops. Driven by the burning rays of the sun, the shadows too had sought refuge under the shop awnings and in foot-wide strips at the base of walls. The cries of street vendors hawking sugar cane pieces, watermelon slices and iced sherbet drinks had been quieted by the scorching glare. The tarred surface of the roads had softened. Kanak walked along leaving the imprints of her sandals on that softened surface, hoping to catch Puri on his way to the party office.
The office of the Communist Party was near the intersection of McLeod Road and Nisbet Road. Anyone coming towards the office from the direction of Shahalami would come along Nisbet Road. Kanak had set her mind on meeting Puri. She wanted to pour out her heart to him.
She walked through Gwal Mandi to the square in front of the Medical College. It was twenty-five to three; she was in two minds about what to do next. She decided to hire a tonga and go along Nisbet Road to McLeod Road. If she did not see Puri on the way, she would then go towards Shahalami. Kanak was about to hail a tonga when she saw him coming towards the square.
Puri seemed lost in thought. Kanak called out when he came closer, ‘Namaste. Where’re you going? Trying not to see me?’
Puri was startled by her call, ‘Oh, it’s you! Namaste! Why wouldn’t I want to see you? I was going to the party office.’
Puri knew about Kanak visiting his home. He had asked Tara minutely about where Kanak had sat, what she had seen and what she had talked about. He felt naked and exposed now that the truth of his situation had been disclosed.
He said again, ‘I’ve to be at a meeting soon.’
‘Come with me first.’ Kanak insisted.
‘Where?’
‘I want to talk to you.’
‘Very well. Let’s walk together and talk.’ Puri agreed.
‘No, let’s not walk. Look at the sun! Let’s take a tonga.’
‘The sun is hot…’ Puri began awkwardly. He felt in the pockets of his wrinkled trousers, ‘I just walked out. Seem to have forgotten my wallet at home.’
‘How can you say that?’ Kanak asked with a loving reproach. ‘What’s this!’ She showed him the purse in her hand.
‘All right.’ He acknowledged timidly. ‘But I have to be at the meeting. It was me who had asked for the meeting to be called.’
‘Whatever. But come with me for a bit. I’ve been waiting here for you.’
Puri could not say no. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere you want. How about the Standard?’
Puri again averted his eyes in embarrassment, ‘I told you, I don’t have…’
‘What’s the matter with you? This purse is yours.’ Kanak said tenderly.
Puri was defeated. He called a tonga and they both climbed into it. The tonga went towards Mall Road.
Puri said to the tonga driver, ‘Go towards McLeod Road.’ He looked at Kanak, ‘We’ll go to the Venus on McLeod Road. It’s nearer to the party office.’
Kanak nodded her head. ‘What’s happened to you?’ She again asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why are you so formal with me? Wait till we reach the restaurant, then I’ll explain.’ She grabbed the arm support on her side of the tonga to control herself. Puri, holding on to the post on his side, was thinking about a plausible justification of his behaviour.
They sat in a booth at the Venus restaurant. Kanak said, as they sat down, ‘Order some tea.’ Puri told the waiter to bring tea.
‘What’s happening to you?’ She repeated her question.
‘Why?’
‘Did you think I was dead? Is this what you meant when you held my hand and promised never to break your promise to me? Why have you been avoiding me for a whole month and half?’ Her tears fell on the tabletop.
Puri did not know what to do. The waiter could come back at any moment. He said nervously, ‘Kanni, take a grip on yourself. Think of the waiter.’
Kanak took out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.
‘Kanni, consider the situation from my position, my point of view.’ He tried to reason with her.
‘Consider what? Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t think I was worth anything, worthy of your trust!’
‘Please, first wipe your eyes.’ Puri said. Kanak had left nothing for him to say.
There was the sound of the waiter approaching and the tinkle of cups on the tea tray. Kanak opened her purse and began searching for something to hide her tears.
The waiter placed the tea and a pastry stand on the table and went out.
Tears were still rolling down Kanak’s cheeks. Puri choked back his own, and said, ‘You thought I was ignoring you? You don’t know about my suffering, about the agony of being away from you. Think of my position. The ladder I had begun to build to reach you has been knocked down. In the eyes of the world, I’m just another person without a job, now an object of derision because I’m striving to scrape together a living.’
Kanak interrupted him, ‘Why do you say that? Who doesn’t know the truth? You left your job for the sake of truth and justice. Everyone respects you for that.’
Puri said stirring his tea, ‘Whether I left my job or I was made to leave doesn’t matter. If some woman drowns herself in a well to escape being raped, will that be considered as an escape? The result of being unemployed is just the same, irrespective of my principles. It is also true that, maybe, I can earn more now, but by remaining anonymous. Is that any less painful?’
‘To make sacrifices for your ideals is no light matter.’
‘What ideals? I’d been working all this time for my ideal of communal harmony, and last week I had to fight off a mob to defend myself, and defend
the people of my gali. My hair stands on end when I think of it. I also know that my own gali people were at fault.’
‘But you weren’t thinking of yourself when you gave up your job.’
‘That’s my weakness, my disadvantage. You have to be self-seeking to earn respect from people and keep a position in society.’
‘What are you saying? Everyone is all the more respectful of you because of your self-sacrifice. I consider it an honour to be the dust under your feet.’
‘You’re just saying that out of the goodness of your heart. I want to be worthy of such praise.’
‘Don’t make fun of me. I’m begging at your feet. You gave me a place in your heart, and you can’t throw me out now. You may kill me, but you won’t be able to get rid of me.’
‘I didn’t feel worthy of you. That’s why I was staying away from you. I’m just trying again to be deserving of your affection. I don’t want you to get hurt because of your feelings for me.’
‘What nonsense is that!’ Kanak was upset. ‘Would you have left me if we were married and you had lost your job?’
Puri felt good on hearing that, but continued, ‘First, I want to be worthy of marrying you.’
‘Don’t say any such thing.’ She said with hurt in her voice, and looked into his eyes, ‘You still haven’t made up your mind about me? What do you mean?’ Her tears began to flow again.
‘Wipe away your tears.’ Puri said softly.
‘I won’t. I won’t. What do you care?’ She bit her lips. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks.
Puri had to get up and go to her. He held her head in his hands and wiped off her tears with his shirtsleeve. Kanak did not stop him. His blood was racing. He bent and kissed her eyes. She shivered slightly, and put her head on his shoulder. He could not help but kiss her lips.
She put her arm around his waist and said with a pout, ‘Why did you tell me all that rubbish? If you do it again, I’ll cry myself to death. You took my hand in yours; that’s
panigrahan
, the sacred marriage rite. Whether I was worthy of you or not, you should have thought before performing panigrahan. Now you can’t go back on it.’ A smile came to her tear-stained face, like the rays of the rising sun on a cluster of dew-laden flowers.
‘I did make a vow by holding your hand, but have you spoken to your father?’ Puri asked.
‘What’s there to tell him? Had you mentioned something to him, I would have responded. Pitaji didn’t ask me any questions. I want my intentions to be known. Pitaji probably wants me to finish the MA course first.’
‘You’d better go through with your MA. I won’t be able to think of marriage for a while.’
‘The same talk again!’ Kanak scolded him lovingly. ‘It’d be better if my family knew about it. I can’t go on like this, acting like a criminal.’
‘Why, what’s the problem?’
‘Trying to hide it from everyone. My family will suspect something; why wouldn’t they?’
‘Why? What have they said?’
‘They said that it wasn’t just regard for my guru that I felt for you, but something more serious.’ She looked into his eyes and smiled.
‘Who said that? Your brother-in-law?’
‘He did, and others will too, eventually. Why wouldn’t they!’
‘What did you tell them?’
‘I was about to say, yes, there’s something more, but I hadn’t consulted you, so I had to shut up. I just said, don’t talk nonsense. But this can’t go on. I can’t just go on pretending. That day I couldn’t even ask you, why you were leaving so soon, and when would I see you again? There should be something firm, as there was with my elder sister. I wouldn’t mind waiting, if it was like that.’
Puri gave it some thought before saying, ‘Not just at the moment. Wait a while. I’ll get things under control soon.’
‘But will we meet? Will you come to my place? Why don’t you speak with Pitaji? You gave him the manuscript of your collection of short stories.’
‘What should I talk to him about? Tell him that I’m an unworthy suitor of his daughter, not even able to support himself?’
‘What d’you mean by unworthy?’ Kanak protested. She suggested, ‘Come for a visit as before, as you used to. You must.’
‘I don’t feel like it in my present situation.’
‘Do you want me to work for the peace committees? That’d give us a chance to meet once or twice a week.’
‘You can, if you want to, but I’m not too hopeful about their efforts. Will people listen to the leaders of the Congress, the League and others, or to
us? I’ve been thinking of going to Delhi, if nothing works out here.’
‘You’ll go to Delhi? That far? Will you write to me?’
‘What could I write in a letter?’
‘That you’re well, a couple of sentences to comfort me. I’ve been waiting for your letter these past days too. Write to me if you can’t come.’
‘Achcha.’ Puri looked at the wall-clock over the booth, then at his wrist watch, ‘It’s nearly four o’clock. They must be cursing me. I’d asked them to call the meeting.’ He pressed the bell to summon the waiter.
‘To me, this meeting is like a
saut
, your other wife.’ Kanak complained smilingly. She said, ‘Honoured Sir, I don’t mind you having another wife. Just leave me a place at your feet.’ She took out several ten and five-rupee notes from her purse and offered the cash to Puri.
‘What’s all this for? Give me just two rupees.’ Puri said, ‘The bill won’t come to more than one or one-and-a-quarter rupees.’
‘Keep it. You might need it.’
Puri’s face took on a grim expression. The waiter had arrived with the bill on a tray. Puri placed a note on the tray, and said, ‘Bring the change.’ He said to Kanak after the waiter had left, ‘No, I don’t need it.’