Of Unbridled Appetite

Of Unbridled Appetite

I am on my way to Mysore. The bus toddles slowly on the Dhimbam ghats, I enjoy the scenery of the misty morning dawn and the golden rays of the sun which makes its appearance now and then through the thick forest foliage. I feel very relaxed. I am happy. I am taking a break from the feeling of anguish that I was going through when the Delhi rape happened. I am taking this trip to meet my classmate, Parimala, whom I accidentally bumped into on facebook. We were classmates in our undergrad programme in 60s. Parimala , as her name suggests, was very exuberant and very good in her studies. Very precise and accurate in her dissection either of an earthworm or of a frog. She was from a staunch,orthodox Brahmin family. As I was mulling over the bygone days,I was already at Mysore bus stand. Parimala was there. She looked pale. She had lost her husband the previous year. She had told me over facebook chat. She has two sons,both in US. One married and the other one with a live-in relationship. I waved. “ Hi Pari..(that's how we used to call her). You look run down. Are you in good health?” She said, “ I am ok. Age you see. You look gorgeous with your sari and new hairstyle. Let's go and sit in a restaurant. We shall have good lunch and then I will tell you my story”. I said, “ Fine”. We took up a corner table. The place was not crowded. This is her story.

Jayashree,after passing out doing Botany Zoology, I was unable to get a job, nor had any green clearance for marriage. I had these three elder sisters to be married. No parents. They had passed away one after the other in two years. One elder brother who got married and went away with his wife. We were somehow managing. At that point my uncle, who lived in Calcutta now Kolkota,called up,one fine day and asked me if I could come over to Calcutta and take care of his one and half year old daughter. He was working in a top position in government office. I don't remember which one. His wife also held a good position, again in a government office. They need somebody who could speak Kannada and very reliable. I was thrilled. My sisters encouraged me. They even said I was very lucky . So I set out to Cal. My uncle received me at the station. To my surprise there was one more woman in the house. A PG. I thought how nice of them. She was some four or five years older to me. The kid was very cute and I adored her. One month everything went off very well. My uncle was very well read. Always jovial. Cutting jokes. Making people laugh. He used to praise me always. I used to feel elated. It was a very nice feeling. One day my uncle gave me shabhaash on my cheek. I felt a bit uncomfortable. He was ten years older than me. I was afraid of him. Then, he would come and sit next to me. This, he did when nobody else was at home. When my aunt and the other lady would be around, he would say Pari you are very good and all that blah-blah. It gave a good boost to my low esteem at that time.

Then the touches were becoming very intimate. I just did not know how to wriggle out of the situation. It went on and on. I started to think as if I am his wife. One day my aunt found out what was happening. She did not do anything to get me out of this. She said it was alright. Everyday was a dark day for me. I slowly took courage to tell my sister over phone. She was aghast. She shouted, “Just say no next time he comes to you”. I did that. The next day there was a big ruckus. My aunt accused me of seducing her husband. My uncle said that I was of bad character. They bought the next train ticket and packed me off to Mysore.

It took me at least two years to recover from that trauma. After that I studied. Did my PG. Got a job. Found a husband. My husband was good. Somehow I came out of the situation. But tell me Jayashree, how many girls can come out of such a situation. If the Delhi rape was brutal, mine was slow poison. Jayashree, I request you to tell my story to others,whenever you get a chance.

Both of us cried for some time. I was happy she came out. Sad,such things happened to her.
She said, “ Please girls, take care. There are slow rapists, who go scot free. It does not happen only in buses,or cars or wherever. It happens even in your own home”.

My first ever short story,publicly read.

Rain Tree

I am on the Mettupalyam road,Coimbatore.I am a tree.That's what they call me. Oh! Yes they have given me a name Samanea Saman, botanical name, in Hindi and in Bangali I am known as Belaiti Siris, In Tamil I am known as Enal-vakai, in Malayalam Plavu . I am also known as Rain tree. Most of you would have noticed that I fold my leaves in the dark or during rainy season. I am proud of my pink flowers. My leaves are dark green. I spread out my branches. I give the best sun shade. I am cool. I feel I am on the centre of the earth. Years together I am here enjoying myself. I have seen toddlers becoming big and attending colleges nearby. Young girls blossoming into beautiful lasses.

I had a nice neighborhood. Beautiful trees like me. We used to have silent conversations. We used sway and dance to the tune of winds. In the spring we used to show our beautiful, colorful flowers. People used to admire us. They were awestruck. Lots of beautiful, chirping birds used to visit us. You know the other day I saw how the bees built their hives. What co ordination!! It was amazing. The birds! How they build their nests!! I think they are the best natural engineers. They choose the perfect material. It is just marvelous! Even the highly visible common black birds, I think they call them crows build their nests with such precision, I am amazed. Then there are koels who are nothing but black sleek birds with red eyes. You know how the husband and wife co-ordinate and con the crows. Crows build the nest. Lay eggs . When the female koel wants to lay eggs, she is lazy to build a nest. So the husband and wife team hatch out a plan. The male koel disturbs the crow with her eggs in the nest. The crow chases the koel. Male koel leads her away and the female koel comes from behind and lay her egg in crows nest. When the crow returns after its futile chase she is unable to recognise the extra eggs in the nest. She does not know how to count. She has never gone to school you see!!

Oh! I just remembered an episode with human beings. There was this young beautiful girl,who used to come everyday in the evening and wait for her boy friend. Day after day at the same time, they used to meet under me. The girl used to bring a a hand bag. The boy used come on two wheeler. Sometimes they used to sit on the vehicle and talk. Giggle. Talk and talk more. Then after some time the girl would go and get into a bus. One day, they were there well beyond the sunset. It became pitch dark. They were not to be seen. The two wheeler was there. Just when I got tired of looking for them, I saw them. The girl was a bit nervous. The boy was telling her not to worry, nothing will happen. After that I did not see them for few days. Could be a month and half. The girl came as usual. The boy took a while. The girl was pale. The greeting was not as always. The boy went on consoling her. I could see the girl was in tears. I could hear one word repeatedly “abortion”. They left. Next day I was a bit anxious. I waited for them. They came this time together on the two wheeler. As soon as they reached, A few men came rushing. One of them had a sickle in his hand. For a moment I thought they are going to hurt me. The boy and the girl fled on their two wheeler. I could see the men chasing them. I felt bad. I did not see them again. I think it is better to be a tree. I have no problem. Once I am big, I don't even need somebody to water me.

The other day, a few people came. They were measuring the road before me. They did not touch me. I was a few yards away from their measurement. After few days they brought a machine. They started to cut down my friends around me. I was a meek spectator. One by one every single tree like me fell. Then began the digging of the road in front of me. Now I see the vehicles. Their numbers are also more than doubled. They hoot and make noise. The buses are too many. The whole area is a mess. There is this black smoke coming from the lorries and buses. It is unbearable. I have suffered for more than two years now.

I am a witness to horrible murder on the road. A boy well in his youth was speeding on his modern motor bike. I could see him coming from a distance. He was going zig zag. Just in front of me,he was trying to over take a lorry from the left side. The lorry was heavily loaded. It just swayed to the left and hit the boy on the bike. The boy fell. Instantly people gathered. They brought the boy under me. Blood was flowing out like water. Before the arrival of the ambulance he was dead. My God!! How people die!!

Now I stand alone. I cannot see more than few yards away. The multi storied buildings block my vision. My surroundings are littered with piles of stones. Mounds of garbage. I have a cart shop under me now. The man sells some eatables. People buy eatables from him all through the day.They eat something and drink something throw the plate and the cup and the straw around me and leave. I tolerate everything. At least I am partially contented as I am still green and I still give shade to people,still my pink and white flowers bloom in spring. I have lot more stories to tell, if only the TV pulp channels listen to me!

One more week to go for my show at a Tiruppur school. It was practically very tough task to make them learn the dialogues. Most of the students are from rural background or a first generation school goers. I had to use my little bit of Tamil to make them understand the story,meaning of their dialogues. Keeping my fingers crossed. To quote one of the dialogues " We are nervous? Hope all goes fine".

Every one will not become monsters when they grow big. It is the circumstance ,bringing up by the parents, the environment while in school or college, the way parents say one thing and do another for their own survival or selfish means. Children learn by imitating more than hearing the preaching. If we have to see the change in youngsters we have to follow what is being preached first. There is nothing wrong in becoming rich or enjoying the fruits of life.However if in that state,the moral values vanish,the society weakens. The whole thing  should be understood in a broader perspective and  not at a micro level. . Anyways, it is my belief. If people do not take it, I am sorry for that.
 

Viji thanks for reading my blog. I still wonder if there is any perfect formula which gives us the answer. Each one of us, I mean the one billion and odd have a role to play. It is not enough if we crave for new progeny and keep our lineage intact. The new generation are bit by "capitalism". Or is it that we are passing on the tradition. We forget that we have to be first, the role models to teach or preach the next generation. It is a continuous process for anybody to evolve and learn from their mistakes. I can only quote " Be the change you want to see" . And there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

Encounters with youngsters

I interact with students from LKG to 9th std. trying to teach them dramatics. In class 4 as I entered one of the girls was sobbing uncontrollably, and her classmates were consoling her. I asked for the reason.She had scored zero in Hindi and was very sad. Her classmates were saying don't worry next time you will get good marks. It was incredible and amazing sight. On an other day the situation was similar but the girl had broken her scale which was given to her by her private tutor. This time her classmates were offering her money. " I will give you ten  rupees", "I will give you my scale". It was touching. It is a natural trait to be compassionate. However as we grow why do we become so violent and unconcerned about others. The answer to  this is yet to be found out,I think. Here I am narrating one more incident. I was sitting in a service centre  where they service cameras and computers. One customer brought his laptop which he had purchased just a week ago. It was broken down very badly. Reason he had a tiff with his engineering classmates in a prestigious college in the city. They took revenge and just showed it on the laptop. The lap top cost some 35 K and to fix that would cost 20 K. I just sat there wondering, are these the children who were compassionate when young and turned into monsters when grown. Do we have a solution?

Today ..it was a nice inter action with Judy Balan at our CATS circuit. Judy inspired me to start a blog and start writing. So here I am trying to write my stories or whatever one may call it.