Tell A Thousand Lies (36 page)

“She took care of us when we needed her, even though she knew I’d rather be with you. I tried hard not to show my true feelings, but she knew,
Pulla
. She always knew. She stayed only because she had nowhere else to go. How can I throw her out now, when we don’t need her anymore?” He looked troubled.

“But it wasn’t my fault.” Tears slowly made their way down.

He cupped my face in his hands. “I know,
Pulla
, I know.”

I rested my head against his, letting the tears flow. “All these years,” I whispered. “The only thing that sustained me was the certainty of reuniting with you. And our son.”

He took my hand in his. “I’m so sorry,
Pulla
. Between my grandfather and I, we ruined your life.”

“No.” I covered his mouth with my hand. “Never compare yourself with your grandfather. That man wouldn’t know integrity if it punched him in the gut.”

He pulled me into his arms. Then he wept.

Chapter 44

Will I Raise My Son?

S
rikar sagged against the chair, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “God, what a mess.”

I inspected his face. Eight years ago Srikar had been a boyish twenty-two, scraggly beard sprouting; now I could see a stubble on his chin. He had filled out, become more muscular. His hair still fell endearingly over his forehead, though.

He was staring blankly at the jewel studded picture of Lord Krishna across the room. I ran my eyes over the room. My son was growing up with these chairs, these walls, this daybed. I felt an irrational jealously of these objects that had seen my son, touched him, held him.

Through the window I could see Aunty leaning against the gate, watching traffic go by. Conscious of the fact she was waiting to meet her son, I gathered up my courage and put a hand on Srikar’s arm.

He looked at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on me. “All these years,” he said hoarsely. “What a waste.”

“It is unbelievable how conniving that man is!” What a personification of evil. “I escaped from the home a few weeks after our son was born. I went to
Madhuban
Apartments. Two thugs were waiting to kill me.”

Srikar blanched. “My... my grandfather?”

“Who else?”

He fell back against the wall.

“What is our son’s name?”

“Pullaiyya.”

Stick boy.

><

“Will you let me raise
Pu
... Pullaiyya?”

“That would be the right thing to do. He was, after all, stolen from you.”

I had never doubted Srikar’s integrity. I touched the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

“But, Pullamma –” He cleared his throat. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Why? He is my child. I was denied the right to raise him.”

“I know that, and you know that, but...”

“But what?”

“Pullaiyya doesn’t.”

I drew in a sharp breath.

He pulled me into his arms again. “I want to make things right for you, I really do. What my grandfather did to you was terrible. But we have to find a way of doing this without hurting our child.”

“I’ve waited so long for him,” I sobbed into his shoulder. “Is it fair to expect me to wait longer?”

“He’s a child,
Pulla
. He doesn’t know about fairness. All he knows is that his world is safe right now.”

I moved away. “And it won’t be safe if I claim him.” I was bitter. “Can you at least tell me what he looks like? Who he resembles? Does he have friends? Is he happy?” It galled me that I had to ask.

“He takes a little time to warm up to people he doesn’t know. But once he does, he’s just another little boy. If I let him, he’d play all day. He can be, in turns, happy, sulky, irritable, lovable. Gets into a lot of mischief. Doesn’t much care for his studies. I wonder where he got that from?” Srikar smiled.

But I couldn’t get past my anguish. I shouldn’t have to find all this out second hand.

“He looks like me,” Srikar said.

“Do you have a picture?”

“Hmm. Let me see. I think there is a picture of him. That’s probably the latest one.” Srikar got up and rummaged through a pile on the corner table. “Here it is.”

I grabbed at it with eager hands. A solemn little boy in school uniform stared back. His hair was slicked back, probably for his school ID. Roundish face, big eyes. I ran a finger over the picture. I blinked back tears. “Can I keep it?”

He nodded, eyes wet.

“Is he close to Ammamma?”

Srikar had a look of regret on his face. “No, he’s never been to the village. My... uh... wife didn’t want to keep up that connection.”

Poor Ammamma. To be denied her great-grandson!

“As soon as you talk to him –”

“You’ll meet him, I promise. Now tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“This sounds like two friends catching up, not a reunion between husband and wife.” I felt bitterness well up within.

“I’m married to someone else,” Srikar mumbled, not meeting my eyes.

I looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “You remember we’d plan our future on our late night walks?”

Srikar nodded.

“I took your advice and studied.”

He nodded approvingly. “It shows,” he said. “You look more self-confident, more self-assured. What did you study?”

“I became a doctor.”

“A doctor?” His face split into a disbelieving smile. “My Pullamma, a doctor?” He gave a delighted laugh. “I can’t believe it.”

I smiled back. “What do you think of my looks?”

He gave my question serious consideration. “As long as the person within hasn’t changed, it really doesn’t matter.”

I was glad.

“It was your quiet dignity that drew me in the first place,” he reminded me with a faint smile.

I felt warmth spread in my chest. I felt more connected to the Pullamma of old, too. “Were you able to study?” I asked.

“I got my MBA. I run my own construction company now.”

“I’m glad for you,” I said quietly. My throat hurt. “To think you suffered so much because of me.”

He put an arm around me and pulled me close. “It wasn’t all bad,
Pulla
. I had our son. Without him, I don’t think I would have made it.”

For that at least, I was glad.

><

Now to administer Srikar his second shock of the day. “
Yemandi
?” It seemed wrong to be addressing him thus when he was married to another, but I didn’t know how else to. “What happened to your mother?”

“Why do you want to know?” Srikar sounded suspicious. “Why now?”

“Please, can you just tell me?”

“She abandoned me when I was two years old. She was a wicked woman. I neither have the knowledge of her whereabouts, nor do I have the desire to know.”

“Why was she wicked?”

“Because –” He stopped. “Why are you asking anyway?”

At the look on my face, he jumped up. “No! Don’t tell me my grandfather had something to do with her disappearance, as well.”

I tried to reach for his hand, but he pulled away in shock. “Where is she? How do you know about her?”

“When I thought I would lose my mind from missing you, she stepped in and took care of me and our baby-to-be. I have been living with her for eight years. I love her as much as I would my own mother.”

Srikar had a wild expression in his eyes. “That lady outside?”

I nodded at him with compassion.

“You can’t just walk into my life after so many years, turn it upside down, then turn around and tell me you have found my mother,” he shouted. “You showing up after so many years is shock enough. You can’t just spring something like this on a person.” He paced faster and faster till I thought my head would spin. Abruptly he fell on the daybed.

“She has lived with the pain of losing you for more than twenty-seven years,” I said softly. “Doesn’t she deserve a chance?”

Srikar dropped his head into his hands.

I stood up. “I will send her in.”

Outside, I took Aunty’s hand and led her to the door. Then it was my turn to step out and close the door behind me.

><

I walked around. The yard was hard packed mud, with lots of fruit trees bordered by bricks painted white. This was the home my husband shared with our son and another woman. I walked around the whitewashed walls, looking around at the detritus of childhood – a broken cricket bat, a couple punctured balls. A notebook lay carelessly to the side. My son’s? I picked it up and opened it. The front page had Pullaiyya scrawled all over. I flipped a page. Steeply
triangled
mountains through which the sun rose. The rays of the sun were rigidly placed. I smiled through my tears – an artist, my son wasn’t. The stick figures were exaggerated – really long hands curving around the tiny heads. I put the book to my cheek, trying to absorb the essence of my child. How could I convince Srikar to be a family with my son and me?

Aunty waved me over.
 

Srikar and Aunty stood with their arms around each other, their faces wearing deeply contented smiles. Aunty pulled me into a hug. She turned to Srikar, “There is probably a first for everything, but I love my daughter-in-law as much as I love my son!”

We all laughed.

Their reunion gave me deep pleasure. But it was tinged with deep sadness. My husband wasn’t my own, anymore. “What about Pullaiyya? When can we meet him?”

Srikar looked uncertain. “I don’t know how he will react,” he finally said.

“What about your wife?” My chest hurt to say that word.

Srikar opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

“Srikar?” Aunty prompted.

“That is going to be a problem,” he said heavily.

“I don’t want to disrupt
Pullaiyya’s
life,” I said. “I’m sure Aunty doesn’t, either. But we want him in our lives.”

“Give me some time. I’ll phone you. Please?”

Aunty and I nodded. It was the best we could do.

Chapter 45

My Husband’s Wife

J
anaki aunty and I waited till we got home before we talked about our reunion with Srikar; drivers and maids were notorious spreaders of gossip.

Aunty sighed. “To think one man is responsible for ruining so many lives.”

Srikar, married. That was one possibility that hadn’t occurred to me when I set out to find him. Despite what he said, I wasn’t able to give up on the hope that the three of us would be a family someday. Especially since I knew he still cared for me.

I’d thought I would return from my reunion with Srikar feeling happy; instead I felt more depressed than ever. My son was still out of reach. The only good thing to come out of this was I knew my child was healthy and well cared for.

From the look on her face I could tell Aunty wanted to add something. “Aunty,” I said softly. “I’ve never doubted your love for me. If you want to say something, please don’t hesitate.”

She smiled gratefully. “If you are expecting your son to bond with you instantly just because you gave birth to him…”

“I know,” I said painfully. “As far as he is concerned, he already has a mother.”

><

Now that I knew what my son looked like, my dreams of him became more vivid. I saw myself taking care of him, cooking for him, helping him with homework, bandaging his hurts. I wished Srikar would phone to tell me when I could meet him. Only the fear of traumatizing my child kept me away. Many times I was tempted to rush to their house and grab my son. Now that I knew where he lived, it was getting harder and harder to stay away.