Title: Undying
Original story: ‘Ahata’ from the collection of short stories ‘Tavare detu’, published by Ananya Prakashana, 2014.
Translation by: Preethi Narasimhan
Closing the glass door behind him quietly, Sandeep entered my cabin. I looked up with raised eyebrows to which he promptly responded, “Madam, Prashanth’s mother is here, shall I send her in?” My eyebrows dropped slowly without my knowledge; an unpleasant memory emerged from deep down my throat and I felt my jaws tighten. I didn’t say a word. Not sure what he must have gathered from my silence and unrest, but he waited a few minutes before he called out, “Madam…” again.
“Sandeep, let her wait for ten minutes”.
He went out nodding politely and the door started closing behind him. Somehow, I couldn’t get back to my work again. There was an unsettling lull to the air. Soon it was unbearable. The air conditioned cabin with its door tightly shut was completely sound proof. No sound or smell could penetrate her sealed chamber. Her heart that stood like a vaulted safe within that room and her mind, like the sanctum sanctorum, had many sounds and scents buried in them. Heavy puffs of air had slowly started to push their way out as she battled with her tears.
“Awware, I need to go, I’m late for class”
“Just a little longer. What good is your going to school to anybody? Just take care of the baby until I have my bath.”
“Awware, the school bell just rang, shall I go?”
“Ayyo, just stay until I finish my pooja. Wonder why you are so restless… your school won’t run away if you’re late.”
“Awware, Prashantha just pooped again”
“Why are you telling me? Go on clean him up. There’s hot water in the barrel. His nappies are somewhere there too, wash him up and wrap a new one.”
“Awware, shall I go now?
“Oh my good god, alright go on! You’re already an hour late. It’s for the free meal that you go to school anyway, not for the lessons. How does it matter when you go?”……………….
Sandeep came back into my chamber, “Madam, they asked me if they could come inside now?”
“No, not yet Sandeep. Let them wait fifteen more minutes. Tell them I’m busy.” I knew that those old days would never return. Yet, the past was making a re-appearance in its own way.
Darkness was slowly falling upon the foggy evening. With an old aluminium mug which once was round gripped from its rim in one hand, like many other village women who waited for the night, I too went into the lush green fields of flat beans – fragrant from the autumn mist. Squatting down with my skirt lifted up until my waist, just an arm’s reach from the ready to be harvested bean branches, I grabbed as many beans as I could and shoved them into the bowl of my skirt. The tiny pleats made it very roomy to hold ample beans in it as I moved from one plant to the other. It was easy to deceive any suspicious onlookers since you generally had to hop from place to place completing this daily ritual. Slowly getting up before it felt too heavy to carry, I let the back of my skirt down, poured the water over the nearest bush and made my way through the dull street lamps and dark alleys to or humble thatch roofed hut. That night, at our single-room hut, under the small lantern, the beans were peeled, boiled with salt in a pot and relished to heart’s content with my mother, father, and grandma; without a single word being said between us… drinking the cool canal water from the earthen pot… peacefully saving ourselves from hunger… calling it a day looking at the roof… once in a blue moon when she’d call “Oo Parvathi, go get your bowl, I have some left over rice. I’ll give you some pickle with it and all of you can eat it” and I’d run to get my bowl calling out “I’ll be right back, Awware…” holding my bowl out on her front porch… in that moment of her blatant pride for her charity of leftovers rather than throwing it in the trash, I felt lucky to have something to eat and to quench another days hunger…
“Madam, they’re creating a racket there, pestering me to let them in” came Sandeep’s voice. “Not yet Sandeep” I said rolling my head back to the chair, closing my eyes…
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself you filthy little bitch? Your kind dont think twice before shitting in your own plate do you? How long has this been going on??”
“No Awware, this is the first time ever. I love flat beans and I had a craving for it. I was too afraid to ask… plucked just a few without telling you”
“Ah such lies! You dirty little liar! Who sent you to pluck them? Was it your dad? No,it must be that bastard mother of yours that sent you…”
“No Awware, it was me…I came on my own to pick them, it wasn’t father or mother”
“Shut up now, I know what you’re capable of! You’ve been looting our bean farm all these days with the pretext of shitting.”
“No Awware”
“Really? Let’s see what’s true and what’s not, let’s go and check your house right now!”
“No eh?? What’s all these? Did you say just a few and only today?” The heaps of peel, some completely charred and dry, some half brown, some pale yellow and some fresh green, unfortunately had a different story to say and stood as evidence against my blatant lie and put us all to shame.
She made sure my deeds were advertised everywhere, and a wedge was drawn between our family and the village.
“May your hands go limp! I buy you clothes every year, send ragi to your house, give you money for festivals and occasions, how could you steal from me? You are the people who steal from the people who feed you!”
I wanted to plead “No Awware, the few kilos of ragi you give us is hardly enough for the four of us for a month let alone a year”, but my lips stayed pursed in humiliation.
Returning the only saree I stole from her house… the saree I stole to cover my mother, “I’m sorry Awware, it’s been a terrible mistake. I’ll never ever do such a thing again” I collapsed on my knees, sobbing at her feet…
“Ok stop it now. I’ve seen enough of your drama and I’m tired of it. I don’t want that saree back. Who knows whether that was lying in your hut or if your mother was wearing it already? And you need not come here anymore. I don’t want Prashantha to be tainted with a thief’s touch”
“Awware, just let me hold the baby once, please. One last time.” She slammed the door behind me.
“let’s not stay here any longer child, let’s move to a city. We start tomorrow, early in the morning…” we packed our rags, old and shapeless vessels, tiny things and lots and lots of memories and left to a city.
Sandeep peeped inside yet again calling out “Madam”
“Not until I call them Sandeep” I snapped.
Among the many applications that came for the vacancy of an accountant in my company, I saw Prashanth’s name. Prashanth. M. S. ‘M.S.’- Marigondanahalli Sadashivayya’s son. I had to be sure… I checked his tenth standard marks card and the mother’s name was Annapoornamma. Annapoornamma… it was the same Prashantha… He was just three when I last saw him. Sitting across the table on his interview, I looked at his face. There was not an ounce of resemblance. However I felt a pang from the memory of holding him when he was a baby, of feeding him, cleaning him, bathing him, combing his hair, playing with him and cuddling him.
“Where are you from?” I asked, just to hear the name ‘Marigondanahalli’ once again.
“Any experience?”
“Have worked with a private company for three years.”
“Reason for leaving them?”
There might have been a slight twitch on his face when he said “Things didn’t work out” or not…
“I’ll let you know shortly, you may go now” Sandeep told me the next morning, “Madam, he was let go from the previous company for misappropriation of funds. Better to avoid him.” Yet…
“I’m very pleased to offer you the post of the Accountant in our company and you are expected to report next month, contract details have been addressed separately in the attachments”
“Parvathi, I ran into Patel’s daughter today from the village. Aiinoru is no more, it’s been four years apparently. Prashantha has sold all their property, left the village and settled in the city. And Awwaru is in a poor state it seems…”
“Madam, I’d warned you right in the beginning. He is a big thief. It’s not a small mischief he has pulled off this time. Its thirty five thousand rupees. He has forged your signatures, madam! You have a very simple signature, it’s too easy to copy. Still, it disgusts me to even take his name. You know what he said, ‘damn, looks like I’ve been made out this time. She’s been such a fool for so long, she signs her entire name as signature!’”
“Prashantha, you still haven’t figured out who I am” I thought, it’s better that way anyway.
I heard the door open, “Sandeep, type out his suspension order.”
This time it wasn’t Sandeep who barged in without looking up at me, it was Annapoornamma who fell straight at my feet and started sobbing.
“What are you doing Awware?!” the words fell out of my mouth without my awareness.
As she heard me say ‘Awware’ she looked up in shock, took a deep look at me and suddenly got back up on her feet. With her body still shivering, she said “it’s you! Thank goodness!” and heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t even wait for me before she slumped into the chair across the table and made herself comfortable.
“Look Parvathi, I understand that he made a mistake. But it’s not something that nobody has ever done. Besides, theft is not something new to you, you too have…”
I could feel my nails digging into my hands as my temper began to rise.
“That’s enough, Awware. Who do you think you are talking to?” I said. Succumbing to the powerlessness I felt in not addressing her as ‘Awware’.
“Oh come now! Who knows how much you have stolen from my house- sarees, clothes, oil, ragi, soap and what not. Imagine what would have happened if I had handed you over to the police back then.” She said with her unaverred arrogance.
I could not stay mum any longer.
“Awware… I, mother and father, despite us all working for you, were not paid enough to feed ourselves. It was then that I was stealing. Stealing to cover ourselves and feed ourselves. Perhaps there is redemption for that theft. What Prashantha has done today is not to beat hunger or out of desperation. I need to ask you something, remember you had asked me if it was my father or mother that taught me to steal? What if I asked him the same thing today?” My voice had started to shake by the time is said this much, with a lump forming in my throat.
“che! what nonsense is that, you wouldn’t find a trace of such corruption in all our family tree! It must be you, your dirty hands that touched him for three years that must have rubbed off on him” Annapoornamma’s voice was firm, eyes wide open and glaring at me.
I felt a sharp pain as the lump in my throat choked me. “I have lived my life with more integrity and dignity than any of you. I stole out of despair, not out of greed like you” I wanted to cry out from my heart. I wanted to stand up for the humiliation of a desperate little girl, but the words stayed buried in my throat. There are people who will always know how to evade justice and never know remorse. A skill I guess they are born with. No education, job, position or life experience ever taught me such cunning. Never. Such people, their arrogance, conviction, and power, none of it will ever fade. Life may bring them to their knees, but their insolence manages to keep its nose held up in the air. This faint realisation that their audacity, their insolence is undying had started to squeeze my tender heart.