Chapter 11

3 years ago

BrhannadaArmour

@BrhannadaArmour

Chapter Eleven

Farhad walked briskly up to the door, where Mandar stood with Amruta. Farhad kept looking at Mandar's sky-blue kurta, the cool colour inviting him to come closer, while Mandar's brown hands folded to greet him reminded Farhad of the warmth of those hands under his own. Mandar smiled at how Farhad in his red-orange kurta looked resplendent on this bright morning. The way Farhad walked lifted Mandar's spirits, so that his unease about how Raghav would react to Pallavi's decision was momentarily forgotten.

Amruta scowled at Farhad and went inside. Farhad was the man who had invited everyone to watch the spectacle of her hopeless attempt to destroy the hospital record of her abortion. Amruta didn't want Farhad in her house, but Vijay Kākā and Sharada Kākū had invited him because Pallavi was living with him.

Amruta felt very confused. She had hated Pallavi for taking Mandar Dādā's place in the family, and for ruining her dream of marrying Raghav, but now that Dādā was back, maybe Amruta could accept Pallavi as her Vahinī for his sake. Pallavi was ridiculously old-fashioned, but she did try to have fun, and she was kind.

Amruta thought, Pallavi was actually too good for that callous Raghav, who had laughed off his humiliation of Amruta, saying that a thousand whispers about her didn't bother him, but his mother and sister shouldn't have to hide their faces. After that long talk with Dad about how a culture of sexual harassment creates a lifetime of unequal opportunities for womankind, Amruta was ashamed that she had cheered for Mom to frame Jaya Aunty and Kirti for prostitution, and she felt sorry for allowing Mom to scapegoat Pallavi for the abortion. Of course, Kirti deserved to go to prison for leaving Mandar Dādā to die, and Raghav should suffer for lying about Pallavi. Amruta fantasized about taking revenge on Raghav somehow, ever since she had had to grovel at Raghav's feet after he ordered a beating for her that would render her face unrecognizable. It felt good to hate Raghav, because the memory of how Raghav had smiled at her and taken her by the hand at Manasi Tāī's saṃgīta still made her feel special, and it had meant nothing to him.

While Amruta was staring pointedly at Kirti inside the house, Mandar had dropped his hands to his sides and was smiling shyly at Farhad outside the door.

"Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps it was best that I wasn't there when you and your Āī-Bābā met my Ammī-Abbū last night," Farhad smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Mandar guessed that Farhad was referring to Āī, Bābā, and Pallavi finding out from his Ammī that Farhad was gay. Mandar shuddered at the thought of that conversation taking place with Farhad in the room. If Farhad had looked at him, all of Mandar's behaviour modification training by Dr. Ramya wouldn't have come to his aid. Sympathy and shame and guilt would have been plain to see on Mandar's face. And if Bābā had looked at Farhad with disgust, Mandar would have felt like a traitor, because Farhad didn't deserve to be hurt. Farhad had kept Mandar's secret. No one else knew what Farhad had overheard Mandar saying to Dr. Ramya.

"Your Ammī is a music teacher, I came to know. Do you like classical music too?" Mandar tried to find a safe topic.

"Yes, Mandar. I think Rāga Mūlatānī must sound magnificent in your voice, and Rāga Kedāra is also a favourite of mine. I play the violin. I'll try to have it with me for the next time you feel like singing." Farhad knew that Mandar hadn't outright accepted his offer of friendship yesterday, but with Mandar right in front of him, Farhad felt the urge to offer much more.

"I was looking at the photographs on your living room walls, trying to recognize you." Mandar spoke spontaneously, and hoped he didn't sound too interested. "Thank you for looking after Pallavi," he added, to be safe.

"The faces on the living room walls are Ammī's students. My photographs are all on my bedroom walls," Farhad answered honestly. Yes, you could visit again and look around my bedroom, his steady eyes communicated without any hint of coquetry. "There are too many photographs of me. Abbū decided that they all belonged inside because Ammī could never decide which ones to show off."

Mandar blushed. He was looking into Farhad's eyes and all over Farhad's face, and back into his eyes - he had no right to look, but he wanted to! Farhad was welcoming him in, and Mandar wanted to know him.

"My Ammī is very proud of me," Farhad prompted Mandar, and waited.

Mandar didn't know what to say. He tried to look down; he tried to look aside; he tried to blink; but he kept returning to Farhad's eyes, where he wasn't supposed to feel safe, but he did.

Farhad laughed softly. "When I told you, I'd like you to meet my family, this is what I meant. My Ammī and Abbū have strong opinions about what I should do, who my friends should be, where life should take me, and when I should reach there, but none of those opinions deny my sexual orientation. Ever since I was a child, my Ammī and Abbū accepted that this is how I respond to men, not women; this is the way I am; this is really who I am. Mandar, it's not too late for you. This comfort and this self-confidence - everything that makes it a joy to live my life is within your reach. Your family is very different from mine in terms of what we eat, the decoration of our houses, how we celebrate joyous occasions ... but not how we protect our loved ones. You have the right to be affirmed by your Āī-Bābā, your Kākā, and your brother and sisters. Give them a chance to know you and to do what is right for you. My Ammī and Abbū would be on your side if they knew, just as I am on your side."

Mandar heard Farhad's encouraging words, but how could he answer? How could he tell Farhad that when Abbū had expressed pride in Farhad, Bābā's reaction had been to leave abruptly? Mandar wanted Farhad to know his reasons for anticipating that Āī and Bābā would be disappointed if they found out; Mandar wanted to tell Farhad about Ved Pillai; but with the pūjā about to begin, anyone at any moment could come close enough to hear what they were saying.

Mandar silently gestured to Farhad to please come inside, and turned to greet Krishna's mother, who was approaching with her eyebrows raised as usual. Farhad slipped off his chappals, and stepped over the threshold into Mandar's house, his world.

"Anuradha Aunty! How are you?"

Anuradha's voice was as pretentious and her words were as passive-aggressive as Mandar remembered. "Now that I've seen you, Mandar, I am satisfied. Everyone else might say, mourning won't bring Mandar back to life, so what does it matter that this young woman was married to him? Let Pallavi wear colours like a young girl, they said; let her dance in the rain until everyone in the street sees her clothes clinging to her body; let her do what is unnatural for a woman, and remarry, as if Mandar was nobody. But I knew, and I said, this is not our culture, this is propaganda from outsiders who hate our morality and want to destroy our heritage. No one listened to me, but Veṅkaṭeśvara brought you back and proved that I was right. Now, see how your Amma-Nānna are stuck with no way backward or forward!"

Farhad stood just inside the door, listening to this self-righteous woman spewing bigotry against his beloved Pallavi Bhābhī. Of course, Farhad would control his temper and not make a scene, but Allāh Miyā, forgive me, he thought, if Raghav Anna were listening, he would give this biddy the earful of plainspoken words that she deserves.

Mandar was as furious as Farhad, but he chose his words carefully. "Pallavi took care of my Āī-Bābā when I wasn't able, for two-and-a-half years, Anuradha Aunty. They mourned for me when I wasn't dead, and they may never forget that pain, but the thought that Pallavi still had her life ahead of her, that she could be happy someday, helped my Āī-Bābā to recover. So, I think my Āī-Bābā made the right choice."

"Oh, Mandar, young people like you think that you know everything, but tell me, what good came of allowing Pallavi to pretend that she wasn't already married? Now she has two husbands - such a shame! What will she do? Such a nice young woman with good manners, but what people are saying about her is ..."

"The pūjā is about to begin, Anuradha Aunty. Please join us." Mandar knew a hopeless case without having to get a body bag from his ambulance.

As Mandar ushered Anuradha through the door, and was about to follow her inside, he noticed a young man running up the driveway. Mandar turned to face him, and folded his hands with a smile.

"Namaste, I'm Akash, Pallavi Dī's friend Rashmi's brother," the young man said.

"Namaste, I'm Mandar. Are you here for the pūjā, Akash? Come on in!"

Akash unlaced his shoes and set them aside neatly, then followed Mandar inside. He caught sight of Kirti, who was playing with Damayanti. Akash halted in mid-step and turned back.

"Sorry, I just remembered that I have some important work that can't wait. Please excuse me." Akash tried to make a hasty exit, but Mandar caught his arm.

"At least meet Pallavi before you go!" Mandar wondered why Akash had reacted to Kirti so strangely. "And one doesn't leave a Satya-Nārāyaṇa pūjā without taking prasāda."

"Look, Mandar, I'm sorry. I know Pallavi Dī has no one else from her Kolhapur days in Hyderabad. That's why Vijay Uncle invited me. But I can't be seen at the same event as Raghav Rao's sister. Please let me go." Even as Akash explained, he saw Raghav coming into the courtyard - Kirti's brother who wouldn't hesitate to punch his face in front of everyone.

As Raghav's eyes searched the courtyard for Mandar, brooding because he couldn't leave without having a talk with his enemy about Pallavi, he saw Akash right away, and an idea occurred to him. Seeing that Amma was getting up to intervene, Raghav showed the palm of his hand to her - patāka hasta with fingers and thumb pointing straight up in abhaya mudrā, just as Amma had trained him in Bharatanatyam to say, "Have no fear!" - and then, with both hands moving back and forth in kapittha hasta, Raghav signalled that he would pull Akash's strings.

Raghav called out, "Look, Kirti is over there! What's your name? Oh, right, Akash!"

"I ... I came by mistake. I thought Kirti wouldn't be here, because the news ..." And Akash thought he would surely lose his life today, for stupidly alluding to the hit-and-run for which Raghav Rao's sister was facing criminal charges.

"Does anyone come to a friend's house by mistake? Your friend Pallavi is on the terrace. Until you talk with her, you won't go out of this house." Raghav was standing right in front of Akash by now, and speaking quietly with a forced smile, to which the fresh pain of Pallavi's decision gave the semblance of a cruel smile.

"No, no, it's all right, I'll see Pallavi Dī some other time," Akash almost whimpered.

"You like to spend time with Kirti, don't you?" asked Raghav, who was long past the days when his voice sounded innocent.

"No. No?" Akash honestly could not remember the last time a meeting with Kirti hadn't been ruined by Raghav's threats of bodily harm.

"Kyā kahā? Do you think the right answer is that you don't like Raghav Rao's sister?" Raghav couldn't resist menacing Akash, just a little, to lighten his own rotten mood.

"Look, whatever you want, I'll do. Please, for Pallavi Dī's sake ..." Akash had perspired so much by now, he was shivering from cold as well as fear.

"Exactly," Raghav smiled. "I am asking you to stay for the pūjā, for Pallavi's sake. You will sit next to Kirti."

Raghav took Akash by the hand and walked over to his Celli. "Celli, you remember Akash? Introduce him to Damayanti while I have a talk with Mandar."

Raghav's movement towards Mandar was interrupted as Sulochana, having finished her makeup and hairstyle just in time for the pūjā, caught sight of him and seized her opportunity to make trouble.

"Dādā, Vahinī, are you sitting to perform the pūjā today? How can that be right?" Sulochana simpered, loving the fact that everyone was looking at her while her face and hair were at their best.

Milind hurriedly spoke up, "Sulochana, if it's our turn to sit for a pūjā, we can give it to Dādā and Vahinī, can't we? For Mandar's sake."

"Oh, I am not so selfish, don't you know me, Milind?" Sulochana said, fooling no one in the room who did in fact know her. "I am thinking of our Mandar only. He is today's utsava-mūrti, so the pūjā for Satya-Nārāyaṇa should be done by his hands. And let's not forget that we owe a Satya-Nārāyaṇa pūjā ever since we celebrated Mandar's wedding. How can Dādā and Vahinī perform another pūjā before the one pledged by Mandar and Pallavi? Where is your wife, Mandar?"

Sulochana threw a triumphant look at Raghav, who impulsively pointed his hand at her in a way that ardhapatāka hasta was never intended by Nandikeśvara, like a gun, and click-clicked his tongue. Don't push me today, Baḍā Bindī, he thought, I'm not in a forgiving mood.

"Raghav Rao!" Vijay almost shouted, he was so outraged. He had set aside his misgivings and actually invited this āyatyā biḷāvara nāgobā - cobra who takes over a readymade hollow from the animal that dug it - into his home for the first time, just for Pallavi's sake, and it was obviously a mistake. Vijay was kind to dogs on the street, but Raghav had brought one into his home without even asking his permission. And now, while the dog was quietly curled up to sleep, Raghav himself was defiling the auspicious occasion. "How dare you! You are visiting my home for a pūjā, have you forgotten? Jaya jī, forgive me, but did you teach your son that killing a family member is a joking matter?"

"O Buḍḍhe Rambo!" Raghav shouted back, stung by the reminder that his Nānna and his Tammi had died needlessly for his mistake. "Merā Amma ke ḳhilāpha eka śabda bhī..."

"Raghav!" Jaya had crossed the courtyard quickly, and she reached up to put her hand over her son's mouth. "Remember what is at risk!" Turning to Vijay, she said, "Vijay jī, I am deeply sorry, and I ask your pardon on Raghav's behalf. Raghav will sit quietly for the pūjā." Taking Raghav by the hand, Jaya tried to pull him in the direction of Kirti and Akash, who were quietly sitting beside Damayanti.

"Amma, there's nothing left," Raghav whispered, refusing to move and trying to hold back his tears. "Pallavi chose Mandar, of course. I just want to tell Mandar to treat her right, and then go home and get drunk. I'll send a driver for you and Celli and Damayanti."

"No, Raghav," Jaya wiped her tears and looked steadily into Raghav's eyes. "It is a terrible blow, but you haven't lost everything. Trust me. My life with your Nānna and Arjun came to an end suddenly, but they are always in my heart, and so every day that I go on living is a worthwhile day because I remember them. As long as Pallavi is in your heart, you will make good decisions and be a better person to live your life. We'll go home together after the pūjā. Remember why you adopted Damayanti - to prove to Satya-Nārāyaṇa that you are sincerely listening to Pallavi because you regard her as your wife. This is Satya-Nārāyaṇa's pūjā, which we failed to perform after you married Pallavi. Until you partake of the prasāda of this pūjā, you cannot expect Satya-Nārāyaṇa to restore what you have lost. So, promise me that you will sit quietly and without fussing, and not get up, no matter what happens, until the pūjā is complete."

"I promise, Amma," Raghav answered. He and Jaya sat down next to Kirti.

Meanwhile, Pallavi had come down from the terrace. Smiling at Anuradha and Akash, she said nothing because the pūjā was starting, as she took her place next to Mandar, behind Āī and Bābā. Sharada and Vijay were determined to perform the pūjā themselves to give thanks for their son's return, and Gurujī supported them by citing the example of Līlāvatī from the kathā, who had performed the pūjā herself to fulfil her husband's pledge regarding the birth and marriage of their daughter.

Farhad, after greeting Jaya, Kirti, Akash, and Raghav, left them and sat down behind Pallavi and Mandar. Raghav Anna looks miserable, Farhad thought, which is to be expected after I told him that Kirti must be involved in blackmailing him with that recording.

Damayanti woke up during the pūjā and got into Raghav's lap. She started to play-bite his wrist, and Raghav noticed that the kalāvā that he had tied last night was coming loose. He tried to push Damayanti's head to the side and retie the kalāvā, but Jaya shook her head, reminding him to sit still without fussing. Damayanti would not let him hide his wrist from her; she darted around to his back, and kept gnawing at the kalāvā.

"Amma, I tied this kalāvā for Pallavi's protection. I can't let it come loose. Please?" Raghav whispered.

"Raghav, your promise to sit still during the pūjā is more important. Trust Veṅkaṭeśvara to protect Pallavi no matter what," Jaya chided him.

So, Raghav tried not to think about Pallavi's vulnerability to the blackmail started by his own Celli, and he did not resist the teeth teasing playfully at his wrist. Before he knew it, the kalāvā was in Damayanti's mouth, and she had darted across the courtyard, straight to the pūjā area. Without knocking over anything, Damayanti dropped the kalāvā, woven out of white, red, yellow, and black threads, into Sharada's lap, and trotted proudly over to Pallavi, who gently lifted her into her lap. Vijay shot a disgusted look in Raghav's direction, but quickly returned his focus to the pūjā.

When the pūjā was complete and the prasāda was being distributed by Manasi, Nikhil, and Amruta, while everyone was thronging around Mandar to welcome him back, Sharada approached Pallavi. Raghav came close to them, wanting to retrieve his kalāvā and his dog.

"This kalāvā looks exactly like the one that I gave to you, Pallavi, doesn't it?" Sharada was saying.

"Yes, Āī, but I gave mine to a lady outside a hospital, long ago, in early March," Pallavi replied. "She needed money for cancer treatment, and I could only give a little. I hoped that if she tied the kalāvā with a prayer, other people would contribute until she could afford the treatment."

Raghav heard Pallavi's story, and as its meaning sank in, he got goosebumps. "Pallavi, which day did this happen?"

"I don't remember the exact date, but it was the evening of the day you kept me waiting in the cold for hours. I fell down and cut my forehead while running to stop the bulldozer that you had sent to my shop. So, I went to the hospital."

"Which hospital?" Raghav asked, his voice loud with excitement, trying not to think of his Pallavi shivering and stumbling and bleeding and terrified because he had been so cruel to her.

"S. K. Venkatesh Criticare Hospital," Pallavi informed him.

"And that's where you gave the kalāvā to the lady?" Raghav questioned, breathing heavily, and Pallavi nodded. "Pallavi, that lady gave the same kalāvā to me because I told her that Amma was in critical condition, at the same hospital. Then I went to Bābū Jamāla Kalandara Dargāha to pray for Amma, and your kalāvā is the reason that someone came forward to donate blood, and Amma is alive today."

Pallavi said nothing; this revelation surprised her, but she had always known that Amma was the patient whose life her blood donation saved that night. Pallavi's relationship with Raghav was so complicated that words often failed her.

"Don't worry about the lady," Raghav added. "She was able to get treatment for cancer, and she's in remission now."

"How do you know she's healthy?" Sharada asked, quietly but shrewdly.

"I saw her photograph in a newsletter. There's an old age home that one Mr. Ramaswami runs, and he sends me a newsletter every few months to convince me that donations are being used properly. So, I recognized the lady and asked Ramaswami if she was all right." Raghav really was a glib liar, but Pallavi, truthful though she was, could summon a perfect poker face when she wished to remain impassive, as she did now, knowing Ramaswami's truth quite well.

Sharada retied the kalāvā on Raghav's wrist. He bowed down and touched her feet - the first time he had ever done so. He wanted to be sure that her blessings were with him, because he was determined to protect Pallavi from the fallout of that blackmail recording, no matter what he might have to do.