The anniversary rituals had just got over at noon and the day was blazing hot. In the Iyer’s house, the third year death anniversary conducted by the grandmother, Laxmi Ammal had just got over, and Nithya, who had gone to read under the mango tree, could see banana leaves being laid for lunch in the hall; cousin Sridhar murmuring to Nithya’s mother; now the noon light heating parts of the hall through the windows; and Sridhar’s brother Narayan’s long drawn face listening to the priest’s advice.
It was cool under the shade of the mango tree and the shadow of leaves on top made an aesthetic painting on the ground. There was stillness in the colony that comes with a hot summer; and it was the dreaded hot June. One lay indoors and hoped for some blessed cool air to blow now and then and longed to drink iced lemonade or just eat those ice cubes straight from the freezer of a rare and expensive fridge that only a rich household in the colony had; and where even an air conditioner was uncommon to have. It was always sweating and in the landlocked Trichy, the burning heat was at its peak.
Nithya had completed her eighteenth birthday three months back. Narayan had indicated that he liked her and wished to marry her (when they are both grown-up); she liked him as a friend but consented to it nevertheless. His parents had died in an accident, and she didn’t have the heart to say no. At that sprightly age when her spirits never drooped, she still studied badly, couldn’t concentrate on anything and slept badly too. It was five months after he had proposed. She sat withdrawn under the tree watching them sit on the floor and eat the three-course lunch served by the Brahmin cooks who were given charge of the kitchen for that day.
Someone looked at her through the window, it was Sridhar; he came out and stood on the shady verandah. He had just completed his engineering degree, heard his brother talk about the proposal, and came rushing home. Years ago, his mother had been talking of a possible match between Nithya and Sridhar; and he had carried her in his heart from then on. It was easy for South Indian families to marry their cousins and the whole process of matchmaking and marriage was easier. A man could marry his paternal aunt’s daughter and a woman, her maternal uncle’s son. But a marriage between a man to his paternal uncle’s daughter (father’s brother’s daughter) would be a taboo as they are considered brother and sister. Nithya’s mother was the sister of the dead father of Sridhar and Narayan. Sridhar had got a job in Delhi and was eager to propose, however, his brother, Narayan bagged her first.
Sridhar was wearing a well-ironed shirt and a white veshti. He was bony, fair and had deep set eyes but all the same, handsome with a well-defined chin and shapely nose. Seeing Nithya sitting with a book on her lap, he went up to her.
“Why don’t you come in; it’s so hot,” He said.
“Oh, I’m alright. Besides, I can look at Narayan from her,” she said.
Sridhar’s face fell. Nithya noticed it. There was an awkward pause. “I’m sorry about your parents,” she said wondering if that was the reason Sridhar fell silent.
“No, that’s ok,” he replied. There was silence again.
To break it, she asked, “So, when are you having lunch?” “After they leave,” he said, pointing out to the priests who were tucking into the large spread.
There was silence again. This time, she could not bear it. Curiosity got the better of her. She had to take it out of her chest.
“I had observed you feeling so sad from the time you came home. Is there any problem?” She asked.
“Well, not exactly,” he said. There was a pause. It was not a decisive reply. The idea was to provoke further questioning. Nithya was a curious person and never kept any secret to herself; and it was not very difficult to provoke her.
“Hmm. So, did you hear about Narayan proposing to me?” She asked. That was the hot topic; relatives of her age were talking about it. Of course, it had not gotten to her parents or aunts or uncles yet.
Sridhar was mum. He just nodded. That provoked her again. “So, what do you think?” She asked.
The proposal was a newfound interest in Nithya—not that she was madly in love or infatuated. It was interesting to be proposed to; interesting to feel engaged; and interesting to feel that she had a man interested in her.
Sridhar didn’t react like her other relatives—happy. He didn’t say anything; in fact, his eyes had a glazed expression. Unable to understand—Nithya was slow even otherwise too—she asked again.
“Well, what can I say?” He replied without saying anything complete.
“So, you are not happy about it?” She asked.
“Not greatly happy,” he said.
“And, why is that?”
“I cannot really say it.” He said.
Nithya was shocked. She had never hit a roadblock earlier in her life—for that matter, her life had been all of eighteen years till now. His reply made her think.
“Are you guys not hungry?” Nithya’s mother called from inside the house.
“Has everyone eaten?” Nithya asked.
“Narayan ate along with the priests. He is the eldest son and had to do the rituals. Grandma is old and cannot bear hunger. Now, it’s you, me and Sridhar.” Nithya’s mother said, “Come on, don’t waste time.”
Grandma was talking loudly with the priests but lowered her voice while talking of the accident. Till they get the compensation, they’re depending on my meager pension for everything, she said, sounding important. Her daughter, Nithya’s mother had come to stay there to cook and take care of the two sons as well as watch over Nithya, whom she admitted at a nearby college to do BA (music) and stay at the hostel. A servant cleared the banana leaves, wiped the floor and set new, washed leaves on the floor for the next batch. There were only three leaves. All the remaining food in dishes was pushed towards them to let them serve themselves. Grandma could not bend and serve, Narayan, the man was not expected to serve, and the servant worked only with the cleaning part.
“Eat well,” grandma said to Sridhar. “All that hostel food had been taking a toll on you. See how thin you are,” she said. She didn’t speak to Nithya and would not beseech her. Female members of the family were not pampered or appreciated. They were only supposed to do housework and reproduce. Working outside was rare and provoked jealousy from other women; and if they worked outside, it was in addition to the housework and reproduction. If a girl managed to get a job, she’d be badmouthed so much in an attempt to malign her character. Ineffectual housewives find a weapon in such talks. It works both ways—torment her if she works and enjoy if she leaves.
Nithya didn’t mind. The treatment had seeped into her blood that she never even thought about it. At her sprightly age, such traditional treatment didn’t affect her.
“Sridhar, you have not even had a second helping of the rice,” grandma observed. He just continued eating and didn’t look up at her.
The death anniversary lunch included special dishes made of sesame seeds, a favorite of Lord Shani—the God of Death. Nithya’s mother and grandma began conversing on the dishes. Sridhar and Nithya ate in silence.
After lunch and a siesta, Nithya’s mother made coffee. Nithya was urged to sing songs to regale grandma. Narayan sat and listened silently. He had completed his degree four years back in commerce and was apprenticing at a local chartered accountant firm but had no definite income yet. He was pursuing the CA exam and written thrice or four times and not passed “inter” yet; even one of the exams.
At six in the evening, Narayan went out to meet his friends. The women cleared the rooms, brought back from outside clothes left to dry, folded them, combed their long hair into braids, and washed their faces, while Sridhar kept drinking more coffee. He went out alone saying they need not expect him for dinner. After dinner, Nithya and her mother went into a room they shared and slept off.
At midnight, Nithya woke up hearing Sridhar come into the house. She lost her sleep and sat up. Her mind went on wondering what had made Sridhar sad. Ever since, Narayan had proposed to her, Nithya kept thinking the same thoughts: Was I wrong in accepting? Are we suited to each other? Now, a new thought was added: Why was Sridhar sad? The thoughts were persistent. Sometimes, when she was not worried, she would replay the moment Narayan proposed to her, how she was accepted him slowly, how she had learnt to be contended with this not-so-capable man, and so on. She never worried about future; and it was far, far away. She had three or five more years to go; and some miracle would happen and everything will be alright. At that sprightly age, Nithya was new to worrying. And, even if she worried a bit, she didn’t know she was actually worrying.
Through the open window, she saw the leaves of the mango tree fluttering in a rare, mild breeze. It was so hot in the summer months that the windows were always kept open. Men would sleep on the terrace in the open air.
“Why suddenly is my mind letting in thoughts about Sridhar?”
Perhaps everything was happening too fast. It was too early to get tied to someone. Or was it Sridhar’s unspoken thought. Why couldn’t she get Sridhar out of her head? Why?
The day broke. It was five-thirty in the morning. Grandma woke up. “Wake up.” Nithya’s mother shook her hard.
“I didn’t sleep at all last night. Please let me sleep.” Nithya said.
“Don’t make excuses. Just get up.” She didn’t stop shaking her hard.
Nithya’s mother felt she was a model mother who knew how to raise a daughter well. She took pride in showing off her daughter’s singing skills but privately treated her hard. It was not that she didn’t like her daughter. It was just that she felt she was following the tradition of upbringing a daughter by being hard on her. If daughters are pampered, they would not be able to adjust to their in-laws—a crucial ingredient to a successful marriage. To top it, Nithya looked like her father’s sister on whom Nithya’s mother had taken a strong dislike from day one.
“Go, you sleepy eyes; clean the porch and draw the kolam,” she said.
After lunch, grandma and the mother took a nap. Nithya was in the kitchen making coffee for Sridhar. It was an unusual habit to take coffee after lunch. It was probably a western habit; and engineers wanted to live the western lifestyle. In an earlier visit, when Nithya was just ten, she remembered her late aunt ask Sridhar to clean the toilet. Village toilets were just a tiny room where one defecated and cleaned oneself. There was no flushing. Once a day or two, somebody would clean the whole thing. Probably repeated rural habits makes one want to escape, adopt and hold on stubbornly to western ways, thought Nithya.
“So, what are your future plans?” He asked.
“What plans?” Nithya asked.
“When do you plan to get married and where do you want to settle down?”
“I don’t know.” Nithya handed him the hot coffee tumbler.
“Don’t you think of any of these things?” He asked. “Or would you complete your music degree and sing for your supper?” He mocked. “At least tell me when you are planning to tell your mother.” He said.
“I have not thought about these.” She said. “Narayan will say,” she added.
“Probably when Narayan has a job, a steady job at that, you will tell your mother,” he said.
“Marriage is too far away for me to think about it,” she said.
But, Sridhar was happy he was able to sow the seeds of a strong criteria for marriage—a job, his strength—into her mind.
“Now that your life is linked with his or at least in both your minds, you’ll probably end up here all your life, which is contrary to the Chennai dream you were having.” He continued, “You were winning music competitions always including the Madras Music Academy’s; and you wanted to make a music career at Chennai.” He said. “Go to Chennai, become that musician, and then plan for marriage,” he said in a turn of friendly advice.
In the evening, Narayan came back from office where he was apprenticing. Nithya went out alone in a cycle saying she needed to buy some gifts for her friends. Narayan joined her at a hotel. Nithya’s mother didn’t allow her to sit in Narayan’s bike as only husband and wife were allowed to do that. They could not do a tete-a-tete at home too. They would be looked at suspiciously if they even talked to each other with everyone around.
She was back at six thirty—the maximum time allowed for any outing of hers. They all had dinner and went to bed. Nithya had got her bag ready to leave early the next day morning to college.
Narayan visited her at the college and took her out. Nithya continued enquiring about Sridhar.
“Yeah, he is getting thinner, doesn’t eat much,” Narayan told with a brotherly concern. Sometimes, he would feel irritated about her frequent enquiry over Sridhar. He was the apple of his mother’s eye till Sridhar was born. Although his mother had retained her affection for him, Sridhar’s stellar performances in studies made it difficult for her to ignore Sridhar. Probably Sridhar wanted all the affection and knew that the only way to get it was by reaching such heights that others could never think of. He always stood first in class. His excellent high school scores got him a seat at a top engineering college. He was someone the whole family was proud of. In contrast, Narayan began fading out. To get back at him, Narayan blamed Sridhar for the accident which had taken the lives of both his parents. He had not directly or openly blamed him but Sridhar’s eyes understood and feared Narayan’s. That was three years ago.
Sridhar was leaving for Delhi in August. Nithya’s exams kept her busy. Sridhar visited her on a Sunday before her last exam. Looking dapper in blue jeans and a casual white shirt, he removed his dark glasses and greeted her.
“I am leaving next week,” he said.
“So, you like this job of yours?” She asked.
“It’s ok. Nothing great.” He said. Nithya observed how casual he was about his job.
“You have still not told me why you are sad,” asked Nithya, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Maybe it’s time.” He said and paused.
“I don’t know if you remembered that the elders in the family would talk about marrying you and me when we grew up.” He said.
“Oh, so that was what this is all about, ha?”
“Well, I just assumed that that was what was going to happen.” He said.
Nithya fell silent. It was true and now she did recall those comments by Sridhar’s mother. As a child of ten, she had felt happy at her name being linked to his. Sridhar was good to look at, even as a kid. If she had known that he had harbored her in his heart still, she would have definitely accepted his proposal. She knew it.
Seated at a café, she saw his light hair falling on his forehead. Yes, she would miss this handsome man; she would miss his charm; and she would miss the opportunity of having him all her life.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. She knew she was starting to miss marrying the successful man in the family and she was tied to the brother. Suddenly, Narayan looked like the poorer of the two, uglier of the two, and luckless of the two.
“Well, anyway, I got to go,” Sridhar said. The evening sun fell on his face lighting his fair skin. As he left, darkness fell.
That night, she woke up again. The missed opportunity tormented her. Why had she not been smart? Why had she rushed into saying yes? Why didn’t she use her head? Sridhar was already there for the taking; and all she did was miss it.
The thought of spending the rest of her life in some old, dilapidated rented house with Narayan making no foray into a job frightened her. Who is this Narayan guy? She had never once looked at him even as a kid. She was only attracted to Sridhar. Why did he suddenly propose? And, in a moment of weakness, she had accepted. In fact, she had tried to argue before accepting that she had never believed in marrying cousins. She wanted only to be friends with them. She had better schooling and was exposed to places outside Tamilnadu. But, her cousins were living locally in a town and had no idea of lifestyles other than the local ones. Despite all that, she caved in.
Her mind went back to the day Narayan proposed. When Narayan asked her why he should not marry her, she was speechless. After a pause, Nithya had replied that she didn’t know if she would marry and if she did, she would probably consider him—which he actually took as a yes. Her reply was actually non-committal. But, Nithya made the mistake of thinking that Narayan understood it exactly as she said. In the end, he went about thinking that both of them were engaged. He spread the word to his brother, cousins, and friends and even began matchmaking for his brother, the next step, according to him. Not knowing what to do and confused at that time, she simply went along with it. So, what finally prevailed was what Narayan wanted.
Nithya felt angry towards Narayan. Somehow, he butted in between Sridhar and her. She began wondering if Narayan had ever known about the general understanding of all the relatives regarding Sridhar and her. Was he so ignorant? Or was he pretending?
Why would Sridhar not tell Narayan? Probably, he would have wanted to find out how she felt first.
She woke up the next day. After writing the last exam, she stayed back. All her friends went to their homes. Nithya mailed an application and an audio cassette of her music to an institution in Chennai. Then, she packed her bags and went home. She would tell Sridhar that she too had been wishing to marry him from childhood. Then, he would tell Narayan and break off their “engagement”. It would be too delicate a task for her to handle, she thought.
It was a ten day vacation and Nithya planned to make the most of it. Narayan was pleased to see her. She arrived in the evening and went straight to her room and left the bags. She didn’t smile at Narayan. Sridhar was having his coffee as usual. Grandma was watching a boring programme on the national television.
Nithya went into the kitchen and took a sip of water. She had to make it quick as she will not be able to have a private audience with Sridhar, at least not at that time. “I thought over what you said. I too had thought the same way from childhood. And, yes, I’d like to get together with you,” she said.
Sridhar smiled. Narayan entered the kitchen and noticed her smiling at Sridhar. His face was jealous when he asked if everything was ok. Nithya nodded and left.
He turned towards Sridhar and looked at him questioningly. “Don’t ask me; I don’t know anything,” Sridhar said. Nithya was taken aback when she overheard it.
Not knowing what happened, Narayan invited Nithya for the usual evening outing. Nithya agreed thinking she would break the news to him. Sometimes, courage can be a double-edged sword. It can make one take too many risks—some unnecessary and insensible. Sridhar let her face the music. She realized Sridhar was too laidback to initiate anything; he would even wash his underwear only once in two days (revealed when Nithya’s mother jokingly asked him when he was going to take bath why he was not washing it; Nithya just happened to be present there and heard it.).
At the coffee shop, Narayan ordered her favorite cake. Nithya was mum until then. Whatever he spoke was not responded in kind.
“There is something I have to tell you,” Nithya broke her silence.
“What?”
“Had you not heard about Sridhar and me being talked about as possible bride and groom by the elders?”
“No,” lied Narayan with a vague expression. Nithya felt pity for him. She felt bad that she was trying to cheat an innocent person.
“Well, Sridhar has feelings for me. And, please don’t get angry with him; I too have feelings for him,” she said. She thought she had to defend Sridhar by laying out the fact that she too was at fault.
“Well, you are free to do whatever you wish,” said Narayan.
That was easy, she thought. He was gracious enough to give in and that too, right away. She wished him well and said she would look out for a good girl for him.
The next few days were tumultuous. It was not a graceful Narayan she saw. Influenced by envy and rivalry, Narayan had not missed any opportunity to take Sridhar out to a drinking bar and curse him. He also did not let Nithya and Sridhar meet or even talk to each other. He called Nithya names. For his part, Sridhar kept off Nithya. Narayan took him out to bars and coffee shops and brainwashed him talking of things that tarnished Nithya’s reputation. He forced Sridhar to keep off Nithya, which was now easy after Narayan had tarnished her name. Spineless Sridhar who couldn’t dare to even stand up for his love, now packed his bags and left home to Delhi. Sridhar told Narayan that Nithya was dead to him, and he would never have anything to do with her anymore in his life. Narayan promised to get Sridhar married to a good girl.
After Sridhar left, Nithya was back to where she had begun. Narayan had pushed away Sridhar; and now the only one left to her was Narayan. It was then that the letter from Chennai arrived.
Godsend.
The school had approved her singing and was willing to pay her a stipend to
learn music at Chennai. She finally realized—in her late teens—that whether she
could depend on a wily Narayan or spineless Sridhar, she could always rely on
her own music to help her stand on her feet.