Raghu

Next instalment. My grandfather’ story was written in a linear, episodic manner. The reason I shifted the chronology was because I wanted to imply that the two characters central to the entire tale may or may not be connected. Yesterday’s post for example ended with a hint that something had happened in the narrator’s past. Today’s post, set in the late 30s/early 40s may shed some light on it or may refer to two completely different people. By breaking up the time cycle, I wanted to leave it open to interpretation as to whether the posts are related or are merely disconnected fragmentary episodes.

In today’s “episode”, we learn that boldness is a state of mind most at home in adolescent girls and that  Ramakrishna and Vivekanand may have ruined many an Indian romance :-)

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My sister had a mischievous smile. “Raghu, don't think Koki comes thrice everyday to see me. She comes to see you.” I was shocked. Blasphemous for a married girl to have romantic dreams. A tinge of self-pity crept in that I was the victim of these dreams.

I was sixteen. My father regularly taunted me on my rapid maturation and that I looked like a man of twenty. I knew it was not a compliment and it left a feeling of abnormality in me. My father was stationed at a taluka headquarters, which was more a village than a town. After passing my SSC, I was whiling away my time. Meanwhile I had secured admission in a college at a town 50 miles away. But on the day when father and I were getting ready to go the station, he suddenly hesitated. I reacted by saying that I did not want my parents to make sacrifices for me and left the house and returned late in the evening. Thus ended my dream of studying law and become a criminal lawyer. Yet the bitterness was there. My father, who had a decent government job, was always in need and our neighbours looked down on us. I was suffering from an anxious inertia at the time, as I could not do anything to improve our lot. I read a lot of Ramakrishna's gospels and Vivekananda's writings. Ramakrishna repeatedly said desire for land, women and money were the root causes for evil; at the same time he kept womanhood on a pedestal and called them devis. Looking back, I was a confused person and a drifter.

My sister was with us at that time for an extended stay. A pregnancy alarm had got her home, though this turned out to be a false alarm she stayed on for nine months. During her stay the new postmaster, an Ayyangar Brahmin, arrived. So did his daughter Kokila, all of 15 and enrolled in VI form. The boys were enthusiastic when she arrived but the enthusiasm waned when it was known she was married. My friend Seenu, who nicknamed all the girls in our area, refused to nickname her on the grounds of her good looks.

The post office was three houses away from my house and the rear portion was used as the residence of the postmaster. On the very day when the postmaster and his family arrived, Kokila made friends with my sister whom she called Akka. She started visiting us frequently. She was like a lark, she was a mimic, she poked fun at everybody. Even my father was not spared. My parents liked her, whenever she came there was laughter in the house.

I asked my sister, “How do you know?”

“She talks about you and whenever we go out, she finds a way to meet us.”

Then she brushed me aside and said - it is a woman's intuition and you will not understand.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Be careful, do not get entangled.”

And added, we need not worry on that score as you are neither adventurous nor romantic.

Two months later my sister left for her husband's village and Koki's visits became less frequent. One day I was alone at home reading a book by Vivekananda. Koki dropped in. Without raising my head I said nobody was at home.

“I know. I've come to talk to you.”

“What is there to talk about?”

(smilingly) “A young girl like me has only one subject to talk about with a young man like you.”

(furiously) “Aren't you married? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

(calmly) “Yes, but I still want you.”

In this vein we continued, I shouting accusations of sin, requesting her to find some other man for this sin, she professing her undying love. All the time I was filled with fear and sweating. Then she said, “I know my future is with a man I do not love but why lose this moment with you, my first love?” At this I stood up. My legs were trembling, I cried, “This is impossible. Leave now”.

She was silent for a few minutes, then quietly called me a coward and left.

After this incident she stopped coming to our house and looked the other way whenever we crossed each other on the street.