Sahityasetu

A woman of forty-five was restlessly looking around. Today she pinned a Mogra flower band into her hair. Her hand often went there to keep it well. Her face shone as if she did facial recently. Little make up on cheeks made them pink. She brought out a looking glass from her purse and saw into it. Even at this age the unfed glow on her face made her happy and she smiled. Her husband’s words ‘You possess fine beauty like my grandmother. You’re to remain young forever’ came to her mind. This made her happier. She wore a dark bordered silver threaded sari. Now took a seat in the bus. She saw herself from bosom to bottom and as if she had no satisfaction she wiped her face a bit. So that somebody see her beauty, she looked around. The bus halted at the Nehrunagar stop. To avoid a passenger beside her, she pushed herself. She knew Veena picks up the bus from the next stop and yet raised head to find out things. As the bus moved she eased herself. Again she pushed herself on the seat. Now she stopped looking around and fixed eyes on the entrance. No sooner the bus halts, I’ll lift Veeena, she muttered. As the bus stopped with a jolt, she stood up. As Veena came, she spoke, ‘You took so much time, eh! Your wait ached my neck.’
‘O Swatiben, it’s you who brought the bus late. Mine is the fixed stop.’
‘Ye, ye... don’t you forget? Often Ashwinbhai drops you and you take the bus from the Umiyavijay stop. Not so?’
‘Eh, so much fortunate, am I? When he’s late in his getting ready, no servant to help at home, chores to complete, and on my many request he unwillingly comes to drop me. For his friends always ready to serve.’
When Swati looked at Veena’s sari she warmed up, ‘Why cotton sari today?’
‘Well forget it. See, we haven’t forgotten your marriage anniversary Swati. You see what we do at the lunch, and how grand welcome you’ll have. You know ‘he’ likes cotton saris always. And it’s not my anniversary that I need pomp. But you look gorgeous. A maid of sixteen.’ Veena in a breath said so.
Swati was elevated. She wiped her face and began, ‘Those sixteen years passed by since long Veena. Another thirty two years passed too. Though this was my twenty second anniversary, none remembered it. Can understand that my mother-in-law forgets. She’s woman of old times and so for her such a celebration is a show. She looked at my heavy sari and said, ‘Are you to attend any marriage function? By the office time ends, you’ll look shabby. Better you take the sari with you and change after office ends. Full day such a sari? Sure to spoil it.’ I was to retort but better not to speak on such a good day. Came out silently. I underlined the date so that my doctor hubby notices it. I did a light line below the date and with a pencil circled it. No use of pen. If I did it with a pen he would say, ‘Who spoilt such a beautiful calendar?’ Though I did all this he didn’t notice at all. Finally I had to go to him and wished him with a kiss. Then he knew. No sooner he offered an apology and said, ‘Sorry dear Swatu. It’s honourary duty in the General Hospital, four times to and fro to private hospital, a long list for personal visits, smell of disinfectant, injections and sorrowful faces of the patients. All this bedimmed you and the whole family. My fault. I forgot you too. But isn’t this all the part of service? No doubt at your cost, but no way out. This is life, Swatu. You also have your share in them. You also serve the society indirectly.’ Then he kissed deeply, saw my Mogra band and began to recite lines of a poem, ‘O sweetheart, I offer a white Mogara flower for your hair.’ Then said, ‘It won’t be repeated again. We will have dinner in the evening. It’s pakka. Oh, no. Today’s an IMA conference. Next day sure. Dear Sawti, sorry. I am to reach at eight o’clock at the V S Hospital. Happy marriage anniversary dear. Sorry dear, I forgot to bring a card for you. In Prachi’s card read my name too.’ Ended his long speech and left for the work. I remember their small things and do care. Make variety of foods favourite to them. For the daughter fresh snack if she has morning class. And for the Old – the mother in law- hot tea and breakfast. And she too insists fresh, fried besan items. Do such things weaken us? I do all these things because I care. A sparrow strives hard and feeds its young one, while we have everything and we care for our children. But when we sacrifice ourselves for them, don’t we at least expect their warmth? They consider us a robot that does according to the order. As things are over, their concern too is over. At night no talking. Even if he talks there’s no heart. Mind wanders somewhere. Talks of only career and friends. Yes, I am a toy. Play with it as much as you want to.
Now the Sabarmati Circle passed by. The ladies in the bus sang loudly in a chorus, ‘Jay Jagdish hare’. A passenger at the back didn’t like it. He said, ‘O sister, now remaining part of the invocation you finish at your office.’ On listening to this Veena and Swati realised their presence in the bus. When the bus stopped at the Secretariat building a flow of employees began to spread in all the directions. For a while both stood silently. They had no heart to depart. Finally, as if there was no way, they parted promising each other to meet at twelve in the canteen.
Because of the Viasakh hot noon, the canteen was crowded. To escape from scorching heat the employees poured into the canteen. Many groups around the occupied tables waited like a prey bird for their turn. A bearer as if escorting to a woman in a corner said, ‘Please be seated. Wait for a while. That lady from the R & B Department is coming. Let her come. As she arrives you are free.’ As the bearer saw Swati and Veena, he said, ’Enjoy your time here. But how long you kept me waited! I spared a table for you and for that my master sulked.’
‘Sorry, sorry Mohanbhai. Thank you. Thank you.’ Both of them spoke together. ‘See, he’s a small man but respects a lot. And tell me how are we to serve him? Maximum ten to twenty rupees at the Diwali time. This time gave him a steel bowl. At home plenty of load we bear and get nothing.’ Veena burst out. She brought out a bouquet draped in the sari end. ‘Couldn’t control till the lunch. Sometimes I get late for the lunch and by the time it may be weathered. A woman who is ever fresh needs to be offered a fresh one. Many many happy returns of the day. And also let me tell you about the lunch. A brought a sweet Chamcham for you. You have Chamcham and in the evening offer your sweet Chamcham kiss to your doctor hubby.’
They finished tea. Swati looked into the wristwatch. ‘Today I’ve to update Movement Card and Branch diary. Tomorrow we have Pandya saheb’s inspection. Lunch time nearing. Well we meet soon.’ Again both of them walked to their offices.
At lunch Swati arrived early. She sat down on their fixed table. Kept open lunch box. Had no mood for preparing lunch so she had filled her lunch box with spicy namkeen and the sweets that had been distributed by the neighbour for their new car. If Veena wants to have, will order hot snacks and Rajarani cups of Havmor Ice-cream. She was lost into thoughts.
‘Many many happy....’ said Veena and put a Chamcham piece into Swati’s mouth and began ‘A war. Almost a war started. Recently I marked changes in ‘him’. After-shave, spray, dark colour shirts. And makes me a fool. Said to me, ‘O dear, you like it, no? Colour my hair this Sunday.’ During the day continues to dance, becomes amorous, enters into the kitchen and teases me. Spread out half a dozen cotton saris on the sofa and said, ‘You like them. Cotton saris. Put on them. In summer they are relaxing. More over you’re lanky, a thin straw. If you put on one at least you would be seen.’ I only understood all this antic when I found the grocery bill. Two oil tins- thirty kilogram oil. Wheat, dal, and spices. I was stunned. We always buy everything in the seasons. No need then to buy during the year. As he was stripped off, he lost the tongue. Explained to me, ‘There’s a woman in the school. Recently appointed. Shouldn’t we help her?’ ‘Does it mean we pay all her bills?’ I asked. ‘Then you must have purchased saris too.’ He gave a cunning smile and said, ‘Every single penny will be recovered. She can’t have money on hand right now. But what makes you so much jealous?’ O Swatiben, I won’t tell you any lie. Did I hide anything from you? Till now he always put anything to me. Even a smallest thing he asked. I managed everything. But since the last month everything changed.’
Till today I kept everything at the bottom of my heart. But couldn’t stop myself today. Let me tell you, the truth. I’ve no heart to go home. My heart says to stay here. Not to go. Not to go even he may plead a thousand times. I have come to age now and at that time instead of supporting me he runs away from me. You know now its irregular period. Once I get headache, it will persist for fifteen days. I feel as if somebody hammering me all the time.
‘At home, have three daughters. I am worried about them too. Sleep has gone away. They have their beauty concepts, group meetings, friend birthdays. I hear from them ‘We had the Rose Day in our college today. Manisha got a yellow rose, Pinki got a white, and me a pink.’ You know how young they are and yet they have such plays. Whole year they have the Valentine Day, Traditional Day, Chocolate Day, Vegetable Day. And add to them they have exams and issues of career. If we ask them they say, ’Career’s priority Mom. If it’s not, sure to be ruined. A woman has to be independent. The world’s changed’. Yes we are to prepare roti and rice and food all the time and they are talking of change. There’s no servant now. I have to wash dishes. They are three but none would do any extra work than the given ones. One washes, the other wipes with a cloth, and the third arranges. But their mother’s thing is the same to wash the dishes. They have nails grown. Washing spoils them. While mopping the floor they fight like India and Pakistan. Stick to their allotted area. Not an inch more than that. How to bring up such a lot? It’s enough that after all this the family’s not broken. After supper I have creased newspaper and then TV. And if the children have their favourite programme, I’ll be out. Me and my swing. He would from his tuition classes return at eleven. Without delay he would go to sleep. And in the morning the same things begin again. Hardly have we time for us!’
The canteen was almost vacant. Everybody had gone. Mohan stood beside the table. As they halted he asked, “Mam, want to have another tea?’
‘No, no. It’s 3:30. The Section Officer would burst upon me.’ They stood up quickly. Packed the lunchboxes and began to walk.
She couldn’t absorb into the work. Till long the issues surged up at home, hovered her mind. She wanted to talk more but couldn’t. At 4 o’clock tea, she would tell her. She began to remember what to say. As it was the weekend day many had left the office before the time. And the canteen too looked almost a desolate place. The servants were busy cleaning the things. The counter clerk counted money and made a bundle. Bearers sat under the fans on the corner chairs with their shirts half open. Swati and Veena were late for tea as the office work took some more time. Seeing them coming Mohan almost ran and said, ‘Mam, I think no milk. Let me check. If little milk, bring tea for you.’ They sat silently. Took tea mechanically. None spoke a sword. Only few sentences related to office work came out. A canteen boy arranged other chairs and was waiting for them to get up. ‘Well we meet then in the bus. Did you wish to say anything more? I wished to...’ said Veena and got up.
For the untold matters an hour in the bus was sufficient but it was the Navratri days and again there was chorus invocation to the Goddess Amba. Loudly each one sang. Prasad was distributed. Thirty minutes gone. The back-side group today was in a high spirit. For some time, they played cards and then sang romantic songs. It was difficult to talk and yet they talked. Veena put, ‘The father in law scolded him yesterday. I hope things would be settled.’ Swati also said, ‘I am determined to wage a war against him. And if anything goes wrong we are here to support each other. How surprising it is that within two or three months we could be bosom friends! They decided to get off at the Polytechnic stop. Let it be late for the home they thought and stood there facing each other. They couldn’t decide anything. Slight fear gripped them. Then Swati proposed, ‘My hubby to attend a conference. Children will have their ways. Come, I give you a party at the Inder Residency. After dinner will go the Advance and watch ‘The Despair’ movie. Will walk on the Nehru Bridge. If we have will, then will go to Manek Chauk. Will have Delhi Chats. And then somewhere... far, far away... Will have a lot of fun and frolic.
Veena had a strong wish to go but she stopped. Held Swati’s hand and then let it go gently down. ‘Swati, your company’s absolutely pleasing but you know after much efforts Vineet has returned to me. Let me serve him today his favourite mango pulp and puri. Your party at another time. We are to always stay together.’ Veena said so and put her purse on the
Swati found her mixed up into the distant crowd and traffic. She took a long breath and said to herself, ‘O dear soul of mine, let’s go then.’ And with the slow steps she began to cross the road.