Hey guys,
I was yearning to write something different, and there I found it in my disturbed slumber?it will be a SS. Hope you all enjoy it? ?Some people may not like it?but I have this view that sometimes you can't help it? ?even though you know it is morally wrong?but humans are weak mortals and fallible.
It is set in 17th -18th century, during East India Company Days in Bihar? ?
Soon, there will be a Bond flick from me?Beware!!!! Leap before that comes? ?
People please don't leave this forum; we all are still active and very much part of KS IF!!!!!
ENJOY!!!!
XXXX
Desire of the Soul?
Where Shadow Chases Light? ?
This is my delight,
thus to wait and watch at the wayside
where shadow chases light
and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.
Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies,
greet me and speed along the road.
My heart is glad within,
and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.
From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door,
and I know that of a sudden
the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.
In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone.
In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise? ?
{"Gitanjali" Rabindranath Tagore?}
{I}
A small mandap was arranged, with streamers of flowers wound around the pillars, banana shoots tied on all the four pillars?it was a small function, but it appeared grand, the house was small with people running around, hovering like busy bees?
Through the ceremonies and afterwards, during the long journey downriver to her new home, Bani had felt no apprehension. Sitting in the prow of the boat, with her wedding sari drawn over her, she had experienced a pleasurable thrill when the women sang behind her?
The music had accompanied her as she was carried, in a long boat, from the river bank to the threshold of her new home, veiled in her sari, she had seen nothing of the house as she went to the garlanded marital bed, her nostrils were filled with the smell of fresh thatch and wild jasmine. All the nervousness which she didn't feel all the way seemed to have returned back with such potency that her neck and shoulders tightened in anticipation of the grip that would push her prone on the bed?she remembered what her cunning old aunts and elder cousin sisters whispered into her ears as they dressed her?Make it hard for him the first time or he will give you no peace later; fight and scratch and don't let him touch your breasts? ?
Jai stood in a corner with utter disgust clearly written over his face, all his maternal buas, phuphas, phuphis, maasis, maasas? left no stone unturned to tease his half-brother, the groom? as his half-brother was ushered into the bedroom, his interiors were filled with utter abhorrence at the cheap things his buas, phuphas, phuphis, maasis, maasas?said and laughed?thumping his drowsy, swaying brother's back as if he was a valiant solider going on a war which he had to win? he felt as if they had all gone sadistic, deriving pleasure at the expense of something so shameful and heinous? ?
"Mard ban?" a raunchy middle-aged uncle advised him?
"Nahin maani toh zabardasti kar?" another dim-wit uncle whispered into his ear?jai felt sick?his stomach growled; he was sure he would vomit out the fewer morsels he ate for dinner?his favorite authentic delicacies which suddenly resembled rotten shit, like a witch's oils, burnt green, blue and white? ?
"Bistar tod mat dena?" shouted an ancient aunt, and they all began to giggle and nod in satisfaction?as they pushed his half-brother Hari Singh inside?jai mutter something inexplicable under his breath and stormed out towards the poppy fields? ?
Bani was sitting on the edge of the beautifully decorated bed full of white jasmines? reminiscing the first time she saw her would be husband through the hole of the wooden door in her house after she had been called to be presented before the boy, though a man senior to her but the groom was a boy, and to be closely inspected by her mother-in-law who looked pleased?
She was confused seeing the two prospective men, one was sitting without much movement while the other was standing behind, his face fixed with strange peskiness?but bani concluded that the man sitting was her husband to be, as his father was politely talking to him, the standing man must be his brother?she had not fallen in love at first sight, but she liked what she saw, though a bit old, but for a manglik like her, it was more than expected as every person in the village left no stone unturned to throw sniggering comments and hurtful taunts at her parents for bearing a girl and that too manglik?But finally she was getting married, a bit late than her cousins who already bore children, but still?
Through the unhindered hole she could see the lazy, laid-back personality of her husband, who just nodded his head from time to time?his half-closed, half-opened eyes were mysterious, he seemed to be in his own different world, happy and content?pleased she had twirled around her dingy room?almost tripping over her sari?
When the door opened and closed, bani sat coiled on the bed, her heart racing and galloping like the horses of a chariot?she was preparing herself for an assault but her husband surprised her when he didn't touch her?instead he said in a low slurred voice?
"Sun?idhar dekh?" he commanded in a sheepish voice?bani slowly pulled her ghungta she looked at his lousy self, he was holding a wooden box to his chest?
Getting up he stumbled to the small broken chest, revealing a log of bamboo?he took out a velvety substance from the box, sniffing it he inhaled through the pipe releasing a cloud of drugging smoke?bani stared at her unconscious husband with utter disbelief ?the faint smell of the smoke trickled her nostrils?she could recognize the smell, the sedative smell? it was of the opium?Afeem? ?
She heard a loud thud as her husband dropped on the bed, his face buried in the pillow?her whole world crashed?
So, her husband was an afeemkhor, a drug addict?what more could a manglik ask for?saline tears fell from her eyes?this was her life?summed into one?
A gulp formed in her throat, thinking of the piece of land her beloved father had mortgaged to do her wedding ceremony and arrange her dowry? ?she masked her face with her red painted palms, weeping copiously?her fate had again cheated her? ?
Bani literally sleep-walked through all the post-marriage ceremonies, while her husband roamed about unaware of most of the things, like a saint in deep meditation, she wondered how he worked in the factory and surprisingly to her none bothered to notice his absent-mindedness?it was time for everyone to leave? thankfully her in-laws stayed miles away and she was spared of acting like a dutiful wife and a shy new bride which she wasn't feeling at all?
But the most striking of all was her brother-in-law Jai Singh, he seemed rather aloof, she could see empathy in his eyes as if telling her that he knew what betrayal had happen with her, as if soothing her of the stabbing pain she felt inside her?but every time she tried to look at him through the veil of her ghungta he averted his cold gaze?She had learnt a few things about him, he lived behind their hut only, all alone, where he tended his poppy fields, he wasn't particularly interested in family affairs, though a just a year younger than his brother he hadn't married, and probably had no intention to get married either? but he had earned much more than his brother, he was an opium supplier to the Ghazipur opium factory where Hari worked and even owned a cart? somehow she felt drawn to this man who was shrouded in darkness, and didn't mind being there?intriguing was he, she couldn't take her eyes of him? ?
She saw as her father-in-law spoke a few words to jai?he was just standing grimly, uttering a word or two?he was a handsome man, tall built, with brooding eyes, her attention got disturbed when her mother-in-law blessed her to be a mother soon, a mother, that wasn't possible in this life at least? she said to herself bitterly?
The small thatched hut was empty; hari was lounging on the floor, under the effect of opium, working in the factory he must have got addicted to the dooming drug?but it seemed that it was too late to make him give up the drug? she shook her head keeping away the sweets and pickles they had been given?
Later in the evening she made a place to keep the mud idols of her deity which she had brought with herself, lighting the earthen diya she folded her hands, praying? ?
{II}
The village in which bani lived was on the outskirts of the town of Ghazipur, some fifty miles east of Benares?As every day,she rose early and went through the motions of her daily routine, laying out a freshly washed dhoti and kameez for Hari Singh, her husband, and preparing the rotis and achar he would eat at midday. Bani placed the mango pickle in the middle of the rotis, rolling them; she packed Hari's lunch in a soft cloth, tying it properly. Once his meal had been wrapped and packed, she broke off to pay a quick visit to her shrine room: later, after she had bathed and changed, bani would do a proper puja, with flowers and offerings; now, being clothed still in her night-time sari, she merely stopped at the door, to join her hands in a brief genuflection?
Her husband sat on the steps waiting for the cart to come and collect him to the factory. Soon a squeaking wheel announced the arrival of the ox-cart that would take Hari Singh to the factory where he worked, in Ghazipur, three miles away. Although not far, the distance was too great for Hari Singh to cover on foot, for he had been wounded in the leg while serving as a sepoy in a British regiment, the information she only recently came to know upon founding him limping. The disability was not so severe as to require crutches, however, and Hari Singh was able to make his way to the cart without assistance. Bani followed a step behind, carrying his food and water, handing the cloth-wrapped package to him after he had climbed in?
Kalia, he was named after his dark skin-tone, the driver of the ox-cart, was a giant of a man, but he made no move to help his passenger and she was careful to keep her face hidden from him: he was of the leather-workers' caste and Hari Singh, as a high-caste Rajput, believed that the sight of his face would bode ill for the day ahead. Now, on climbing into the back of the cart, the former sepoy sat facing to the rear, with his bundle balanced on his lap, to prevent its coming into direct contact with any of the driver's belongings. Thus they would sit, driver and passenger, as the cart creaked along the road to Ghazipur - conversing amicably enough, but never exchanging glances.
"Ram ram bhauji?" he greeted her before whipping the malnutritioned bullocks whose rib-cage was peeping out?
"Ram ram bhaiyya?" she replied going inside; only after she came inside she let her ghungta slip off, it was time for a bath and then her morning prayer? ?
Even after such cruelty shown towards her by the Almighty she couldn't deter from believing in the supreme power, her faith astonishing got firmer? ?
She sat by the window, plucking stones from the meager lump of rice, her eyes automatically wandered to the flat threshold of beaten earth that divided the mud-walled dwelling from the expanse of poppy fields which lay beyond?
By the light of the newly risen sun, she saw, that some of the flowers had begun to shed their petals. It was time, she mused, and a second later Jai came out from his hut, with his eight bladed nukha in hand. He was using the tool's tiny teeth to make notches on some of the bare pods - if the sap flowed freely overnight he would tap the field tomorrow. The timing had to be exactly right because the priceless sap flowed only for a brief period in the plant's span of life: a day or two this way or that, and the pods were of no more value than the blossoms of a weed?
She found him strange, hardly conversing with his own brother, or anybody in the neighborhood, their houses were on an elevation?removed from the rest, but still a few people came in once or twice. It was her favorite pas-time, to watch jai go about the field doing his work, how his thick brows met as he thought about something seriously?sometimes a thought alarmed her whether jai knew that she watched him every day from the confines of her house, at times she had had this epiphany that he saw her, gazed at her with his brooding eyes and then returned back to his work? ?more than the fear of being caught it gave her a scintillating thrill? ? she had lately confessed to herself that she was attracted to her irresistible brother-in-law, it was a matter to be ashamed of but then she couldn't help it, even though married she was still a virgin and devoid of her husband's acknowledgement, forget love, there wasn't any hope either since he was hardly in his senses to register anything except the time he was at work, it was natural for her to harbor such feelings for another man she was growing to admire, but there were times too when she cursed herself, called herself meanest of names for mentally betraying her husband, straying away from her pativrata dharma?she quickly got up, hurrying into the kitchen? ?
Jai threw a glance in the direction of his half-brother's house, he saw the pallu of her sari float in the air, so she was there, watching him, as every day, he smiled to himself?
He remembered the first time he had accidently saw her?it was a beautiful picture?It had happened at the beginning of winter, just before her marriage to his half-brother had been fixed, in a year when the poppies were strangely slow to shed their petals. For mile after mile, from Benares onwards, the Ganga seemed to be flowing between twin glaciers, both its banks being blanketed by thick drifts of white-petalled flowers. It was as if the snows of the high Himalayas had descended on the plains to await the arrival of Holi and its springtime profusion of color?he had been to the village nearby over some work, where he had found her, half-immersed in water, holding a handful of the pure ganga water praying to the Sun God trembling in the icy cool water? she was mesmerizing, he had forgotten to breathe for a moment? but his ill fate she was to be his half-brother's bride and the very next day his parents had dragged him along with them to her house, he had tried his best to stop the wedding?no, not because he wanted to marry her but because he didn't want her to marry his half-brother, he knew hari was an addict, an afeemkhor, who was drowned in the pleasure of opium day and night, and marrying her to him was like tying her to an anchor and dropping her in the sea, left to die her own death?but none listened to him, specially his step-mother, someone who was never fond of him, she was adamant that he was just plain jealous of hari and that's why accusing hari unceremoniously? he failed in his feeble attempt and the inevitable happened? he wondered if bani had any clue what had happened, by now she must have figured it out, if he felt repulsive about himself, then the girl's plight was treacherous?he had noticed at times, during night she sat by the barren tree in the backyard and wept? Oh! How many times he had felt like going to her and comforting her but every time his feet froze? but over these few days, his sympathy and empathy for his sister-in-law had vanished and his old attraction had taken shape inside his heart, the surge he felt when he saw her drenched in water was back? ?he shuddered at this thought, composing himself he checked his poppy plants?
Bani stood hesitantly before the door, thinking whether to knock or not, gathering courage she knocked at the door?jai was surprised by the knock at his door, none came to meet him except a few friends?
He was even more surprised to see bani standing at the door, her head was bent, he could guess that through the curtain of her ghungta, holding a glass jar, her toes curled?bani observed his hands, covered with the sticky dough, maybe he was cooking, the thought that a man was cooking himself a meal amused her, she surpassed her bursting giggles somehow?
"Umm?woh?shalgam ka achar banaya tha?" she extended the small glass jar, inside which contained the oily pickle?he moved aside to let her in?she placed the jar near the burning charcoal stove?
"Dhanyawaad?" he said?it didn't even strike him to address her properly; he had never spoken to her?
"Kal se khaana main bhijwa doongi?" she said softly?moving towards the entrance?
"Koi zaroorat nahin hain?" he said hoarsely, clearly his throat?bani's face fell?
"Khanaa main bhijwa doongi?" she said even more softly, he was pleasantly occupied by her child-like stubbornness? she was about to walk out when she heard his deep voice?
"Mujhe maafi de sakti ho?" he asked?she stopped in her tracks, turning around?
"Maafi?kissliye?" she asked confused at why he was apologizing to her?
"Main tumhari zindagi bacha nahin paaya, kahaa tha maine ki hari afeemkhor hain, par koi mana nahin?aur?" he trailed off?tears stung in her eyes; he had tried to save her?that was enough for her? ?
"Honi ko kaun taal sakta hain?aapko maafi mangne ki koi zaroorat nahin hain?" saying she walked away, merging in the poppy fields? ?he kept looking at her slim figure as she she disappeared inside her house? ?
It was Friday, sending Hari Singh bani decided to go to the Ganga for a holy bath?bani grabbed her spare sari and a bit of besan for cleansing and went towards the river bank?she let the collected water slid from her palm offering it to the Sun God?she was about to come out of the water, shivering, when her eyes caught something?someone was looking at her, she caught a glimpse of jai watching her with hooded eyes, a sly smile formed at the edge of her lips, pretending she didn't see anything she came above wrapping herself in the fresh, dry sari? jai slowly slipped away drinking her form?how much ever he tried he couldn't get her out of his mind? ?
God bless
dhani
Anupamaa
