Married Woman (32 page)

Anuradha ran inside, scowling. ‘I had to phone Papa, you weren’t here, he said to wait till you came home, you would
know what to do, you know the teachers, but what’s the use? I have been saying I need tuition. No one listens to me.’

Astha walked in wearily. In the face of Ami’s maths her own feelings seemed an indulgence rather than a necessity. They would have to wait, wait in the wings, wait on a more permanent basis.

After dinner Astha watched her daughter sit in her favourite chair and read unconcernedly. The lamp shone on her hair, highlighting its copper shades. Her socks lay untidily on the carpet, she was wiggling her toes in front of the heater, the light catching the lurid colours of her nail polish. Her troubles were over, her friend’s tutor had been phoned, he was going to start from next week.

Astha sighed and took another sip of her tea. On the sofa next to her, Himanshu laboured over his homework, his notebook getting more and more smudged as he continually rubbed out what he had written, shredding bits of the page.

Her thoughts wandered, to the series she had imagined on mosques and temples in Ayodhya, Kashi and Mathura. Pipee had thought it was a brilliant idea, but there was no space in her head to execute any idea, be it ever so brilliant.

November 26th

Pip called. I want you to come with me for three weeks. Will you?

Where?

The Ekta Yatra, from December 10 to January 26. It starts from Kanyakumari and ends in Kashmir.

I thought of the Rath Yatra canvas I had painted for the Manch. Here was another journey, taken by another Leader.

What’s this Yatra all about I ask her.

The usual. This Leader says he wants to unify the country.

They all say that.

Well, he is going to spread his message from north to south, east to west. I know it’s a political stunt, yatras like this create nothing but trouble, but it’s an excuse to be together. Will you come?

Of course.

(My heart is beating, my hands begin to sweat, of course I will come as though it is the easiest thing in the world, of course, as though I can get up and go anywhere I like, anytime I like, of course, because I love you, and at times love makes life simple because it demands you worship at its altar, dragged though you may be kicking and screaming.)

Good. Talk to you later. I have to work on this, her voice breaks in on my thoughts.

I put the phone down. Three weeks with her. My mind is whirring, how will I manage it, what will I say, but I have to go, I have to. She has never asked me to do anything so directly. Is this a test, I wonder?

Next day

With P. Why a Yatra? I ask. It’s not like Ayodhya. You are not taking Ujjala helpers to sensitise them to communal issues.

I thought of this as a way to be together. Then she hesitated. I am learning the language of her voice, she was about to say something she thought might hurt me.

And?

She was silent.

Come on, Pip, tell me, though actually I don’t want to hear. I want to stay with the pleasure of proof that she wants to be with me, but I force myself to ask because shadows between us are ten times worse.

She started talking of communal issues as an area of research, something that now interests her. (Due to Aijaz’s death, I imagine.) With an interpreter she could get some field work done.

So she thought I might be upset because she is still thinking of her wretched higher studies.

Nice, I said enthusiastically, what a good idea.

She looked pleased, and then told me how she was arranging it. I waited for Neeraj’s name to appear, which it did. I am sure Neeraj is pushing her towards this Ph.D. I hate Neeraj, though we met only once. She is fake arty, has a deep voice, smokes endless cigarettes, and of course has a marriage where her husband is deeply involved in all she does. He is a lawyer, and helps her when necessary, and in Ujjala it is always necessary. She looks upon Pipee as her protégé. Pip says she gets on her nerves sometimes, but she has been so kind to her, she can never say anything. I personally think she is insensitive and power hungry. I wonder if Pip has told her about us.

Neeraj’s cousin is a journalist, she is arranging that we go in the accompanying bus. Pip has to produce articles for her newspaper (I am sure Neeraj thinks it will help her CV). The cousin herself is going to make an initial brief appearance. After a week or so we go to Bangalore, then to Shiksha Kendra.

Shiksha Kendra, her school, her past, her mother. I want to absorb everything to do with her, because it is her.

Next day

Dreading talk with H. Yet why should I be nervous, hasn’t he travelled, it is my turn, but even as I think this, I know it is the wrong argument to use. I shouldn’t seem to want justice, it will create endless arguments, I must seem to want his compassion, his magnanimity. He is doing me a favour, but I must also be firm, he is not going to be compassionate and magnanimous if he has a choice.

Yesterday. Pip, why can’t the two of us go on a holiday for the weekend, why the Ekta Yatra?

I want more time with you. After this we will go on a holiday if you wish.

Night

Hemant could not believe his ears. What, go where? Do what?

Go on the Ekta Yatra, cover it for the Manch. (Since he has never taken much interest in the Manch, he doesn’t know this is not the kind of thing they would do.)

Then he started. And went on and on. I was running off on a wild goose chase, neglecting my family and burdening his poor mother with my responsibilities. I had no sense of what was fitting for a woman, I hadn’t bothered to ask him whether it was appropriate or convenient. Ever since Aijaz had died, and I had started being exploited by the Manch, and gone to Ayodhya, and met Pipeelika Khan, I had no sense of home, duty, wifehood or motherhood.

I said nothing. What should I reply to? The text or the subtext? How calm my relationship with Pipee has made me! There was a time when had he said half so much I would have started crying. Now all I said was I am leaving on December 8th, and will call my mother to help with the children, I didn’t want to bother his mother, or even him.

This made him even angrier. ‘Why stop at this yatra?’ he
practically shouted. ‘The Dalits have called a Nyaya Yatra, they want justice, some mill workers have called a Roti Yatra, they want employment, the Indian Save the Cow Federation has called a Cow Yatra, to prevent cow slaughter, every Tom, Dick and Harry is going to march up and down India demanding something. Join them all.’

Again I said nothing.

‘Who will protect you? Suppose you get raped?’

He doesn’t care how low he hits. ‘Why would I get raped?’ I asked after a moment.

‘Anything can happen. All these yatras have goondas attached to them. You think everybody who is going is so moved by the desire to unite our country? Our country is better united by you staying at home, so that there is one less incident to cope with.’

Every day the papers are full of crimes against women. Yet I have to learn to not be so afraid. There are other women in this world. They live.

November 27th

When I told P. about the rape she got quite angry. Tell that sod to stuff his fantasies of rape up his ass. What does he mean by scaring you like this? It is his way of keeping you at home.

She takes what I feel, clothes it into words, and there it is, for us to look at, and for me to feel better.

Have to phone my mother tomorrow. Another session of blackmail and guilt.

November 29th

Finally phoned. She was all against my going, of course. Little does Hemant realise how much her thinking matches his.

She started out by blessings – from both God and the swami, swiftly moving to blame. ‘I have been expecting your call. It has been a long time since I heard from you, but then I know how busy you always are.’

‘I’m sorry, Ma.’

‘Give my love to Himanshu and Anuradha, give my regards to Hemant‚’ she went on, messages too important to be left to the end.

‘I’m going—’ I started.

‘With the family?’ Sharp as a knife, when it comes to protecting their interests.

‘Is that the only reason you can think of for going somewhere?’

‘Then why are you going?’

‘For an assignment.’

‘With who?’

‘By myself. Please come and stay here.’

‘How long?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘Three weeks! Why are you leaving your family for three weeks?’

‘It’s an assignment, I told you. Assignments don’t adjust themselves for my convenience.’

‘Then don’t take such assignments.’

‘Ma, will you come or not?’

‘I’ll see. What does Hemant think?’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’

Let them both see together.

November 30th

Taking large supply of headache medicines, couldn’t bear to have a headache even one day. Just imagine in two weeks, I will be away from pollution, stress, tension, strain, I will be rolling along in a bus, staring out of the window, sitting next to her, our bodies touching.

December 1st

Pip talks about nothing else but the Yatra, I thought education of slum children was her speciality, but it seems she is diversifying. She is full of this as a political ploy, the Hindu vote bank under the pseudo secular banner of national unity,
the Rath Yatra last year, the increase in communal tension, the rise in violent incidents, the number of towns under curfew. And incidentally, one Leader trying to replace another by doing his own journey.

Maybe I can do another canvas on this Yatra – it will be fun seeing first-hand what it is all about.

P. has visited Neeraj’s cousin twice. You also come.

No, you go. I shall see her on the trip.

When I am with her and others I feel marginal and excluded. It’s stupid, I know, but what we have is so intense I can’t bear for it to be diluted, I can’t bear for her not to give me her full attention. This is not
good,
I know. Maybe if we were together all the time, it would be different.

But we are not because of me, not her, then I am the one who complains.

How do people have affairs? They seem very complicated businesses.

Next day

Told H. my ticket has come, hoping to involve him in my going. He demanded to see it. ‘Why do you want to see it?’ I asked suspiciously. ‘I don’t have it.’

‘Why don’t you have it?’ he asked suspiciously in his turn. (The perfect marriage.)

‘The Manch has it.’

‘I want to check if it is all right‚’ he said.

‘Don’t worry, it is all right. But thank you for your concern. I know you want me to develop myself and stand on my own two feet.’

‘Since my wife understands her duties so well, why should I worry?’

Ha, ha. Why don’t we get divorced.

I hope my children aren’t tainted by his idea of my duty. I don’t want them to think I am abandoning them. What if they are taught that while I am away?

‘In this day and age no child can think anything if their mother travels once in a blue moon‚’ said Pip.

I wonder.

December 3rd

As the time comes to go I am tense and anxious. I have never left the children for so long. I told them this evening I was going for three weeks, and I’ll phone you every day – I promise.

‘I don’t care‚’ said Anu flicking her hair around. ‘You can go. It doesn’t matter.’

I wanted to slap her. It is so difficult to reach her in her adult mode.

Himu said, ‘Go, Mama, we should learn to be without you.’ (!) Sometimes he sounds so grown up.

I wish things didn’t seem so muddled and confused. Nothing is sure except that I might be raped. I walked to the church nearby where it is usually peaceful.

‘Teach me how to live, God‚’ I prayed, casting an uneasy eye at the Christ hanging bloodily before me. His own life had been short and violent, but presumably successful. ‘I am not asking for happiness, but I would welcome some stability, so I need not run all over the place looking for love and confirmation. Give me substance, God, give me a life that has not been lived for nothing. And protect my children‚’ I added as I got up to leave.

I thought of Pip on the way home. She has her future plans, her study, Ujjala, Neeraj. Is there really a place for me in her life? Though even as I write this, I can hear her saying you have your painting, your children, your home. If there is neediness in love, is it more or less genuine? If you need, you want, you search, you cling. You reward the person you have found with all your feelings.

December 5th

My mother has come radiating disapproval. She considers
the whole trip unnecessary. She who has turned to God, while her daughter is running after human love, how can I reassure her?

December 6th

Yesterday Pip asked, ‘Does Hemant think you are having an affair? Why else would he be so suspicious about your ticket?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t care.’

‘Maybe he indulges himself when he travels.’

I felt a tightness in my chest, and then annoyance. Why does she keep bringing this up? ‘I don’t know what he does. It could be, I suppose.’

‘Most men do.’

‘Do they?’

‘Don’t be such a child.’

I thought of all the late nights at the factory, the trips out of town, the extended trips to South East Asia, the condom, the many opportunities there must have been, but I said nothing.

‘Sometimes one doesn’t want to know. It’s painful or inconvenient. But now you are not so dependent on him, now it is all right to see.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Does he suspect you are having an affair?’

‘It’s not the same thing.’

‘Why not?’

‘You’re a woman.’

‘And that makes you a faithful wife?’

‘No. But it is different, surely.’

‘What you mean is you don’t feel guilty.’

What could I say to this? This love of mine would have not been possible had she been a man, and yes, I don’t feel guilty.

‘Would you mind if Hemant was having an affair?’ she went on, probing.

‘Of course not. He can do what he likes.’

‘After all you do, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes‚ I do.’

Took the children and my mother to a restaurant in the evening. A last outing before I left. They wanted dosas so we went to Sagar. Hemant was working late as usual.

It was not a nice meal. I was not giving the children my full attention; they felt it and began to fight. My mother fingered everything unhappily. No doubt she was calculating the owner’s profits, seeing how the place was jammed with customers. But because she is so spiritually oriented she was forced to remain silent. I couldn’t wait to get home.

December 7th

Ma keeps saying in a puzzled way, why doesn’t the Manch send a man, it’s not safe for a woman, what kind of place is this, should I talk to them and explain the situation, you have a family, maybe they don’t have families, why isn’t Reshana going, why is she so keen to send you? Finally I lost my temper, and had to shout are men the only ones who can do things, nothing is going to happen to me, will you stop talking like this, you are making everything worse.