Inscrutable Heart

The Kokila & Raghu story ends today. I get the feeling that our man Raghu, so shy at 16 has developed into a bit of a sly flirt! And I came away with the thought - are the hearts of men inscrutable or simply prone to self-deception?

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A girl called Kokila had once loved me. Fate had led us to each other twice but we had parted on each occasion and life had continued. In the years that followed, the ups and downs of life kept me occupied and though I did think of her now and then, I paid little thought to the idea of meeting Koki again.

By the eighties, life had settled down to an even routine of sorts. My children were grown, the vagaries of my career had led me to be an educator, a job which gave me satisfaction. Around 1985 I took a course and one of the students was from Chidabaram. I casually asked him whether he knew Kokila Teacher. His enthusiasm was immediate. Everyone in Chidambaram knows Kokila Teacher, he exclaimed! From him I gathered that Koki had retired on a handsome pension on account of her service to the school since its inception. She had been much awarded and she was in committees connected with primary education. And she had an adopted son. This piqued my curiosity but our state of non-communication remained.

Then in 1990, I went to Pondicherry. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind, why not go and meet Koki?

Koki was in the same rooms I had previously visited. To me she retained the freshness and grace of my memories. Even the few white hairs added to her charm. She was pleased that I had come to see her.

“Koki! You are still the same old Koki I met when we were in our teens”.

(with her bewitching smile) “Raghu, what change did you expect?”

(blushing a little) “I expected you to be unchanged. I heard you had retired. How is retirement?”

“I am still busy but have the freedom to work on text books as I had always wanted. What about you? I hope there are enough grand children to fill your retired life!"

“There are but I am still busy with my work. It's a coincidence that I started teaching when you left off, only I teach adults.”

(an odd smile on her face) “At least we are one in our old age!”

Curiously this time she enquired about my family. In turn I asked her about her adopted son. She told me the boy’s father was a cook in a village temple. When the boy finished his primary education, his father had refused to educate him further as he could not afford it. The boy took the only course left to him and ran away from home. Koki met him near her school, begging for food. She then adopted him, a small repayment of the debt she herself owed to the couple who took her in as a runaway.

Koki then called the boy. Once introduced, he did the requisite prostration. I asked him his name. Raghu, he replied. Then added, that is what Amma calls me but my real name is Tiruvengadam. I looked at Koki but she didn't betray any emotion. She briefly explained that she felt his name was too long and she had picked a short name at random, really any name would have done. Her explanation did not convince me but I left it at that.

A strange relationship exists between us. I had never thought of Koki as my love. Her own passions appeared to have cooled with the years. And yet she had a son called Raghu. I could not help feeling that I was still in her heart. But this I would never know for sure.

For a woman's heart is inscrutable.