Short Story

 

True Love

 

Yeddanapudi Sulochana Rani

 

“Raju! Raju!

 

Clenched fists banged the door.

 

“Rajitha! Open the door!”

 

Prabhakar’s thundering voice rang out with authority.

 

There was no reply.

 

“Raji! Open the door! Or else I’ll burn the room down!  Your will be charred to death.”

 

The threat had no effect.

 

“How dare you disobey me?  You know what happens if I go berserk with anger!”

 

“- - - - - - - - - - -”

 

“Don’t think I can’t break open the door and get in.”

 

“- - - - - - - - - - -”

 

Prabhakar wiped the sweat off his brow.  He was breathing fire.

 

He felt exhausted and fatigued.

 

Anger, once generated explodes like a volcano.   If it can’t find an escape its intensity increases ten told within.

 

Prabhakar wanted to pounce upon Rajitha and tear her to pieces.

 

Rajitha was his wife.  She had followed him meekly like a lamb after their marriage eight years ago.

 

But now she left him without informing him, without his knowledge.

 

Her quiet departure made him mad.  His gender superiority had taken a beating.  His male ego was dented.

 

He collected all his strength and kicked the door open and rushed in.

 

Rajitha stood motionless like a statue with her raised right hand holding the needle with the embroidery frame in the other.

 

“Do you think you can escape from me?” thundered Prabhakar.

 

She did not reply.

 

“How dare you decide to leave me without my knowledge and consent?”

 

There was no reply.

 

“Why don’t you answer me?”

 

Rajitha remained silent.

 

“Don’t you hear me?  Have you gone deaf?” Silence again.

 

“When I was breathing fire outside you are embroidering roses here!” he snarled at her.  He snatched the frame from her and threw it away.

 

Rajitha quietly took a few paces and knelt down to pick up the frame.

 

He walked behind her, held her plait and pulled her up.

 

She looked at him.  There was no fright in her look, no feeling of helplessness, not even fear.  She did not express a feeling of dismay at her loneliness.  There was contempt in her look.  Utmost contempt.

 

He raised his hand to hit her.

 

There was a noise at the door.

 

He looked round.

 

It was the police party.

 

He was amazed.

 

“Did you telephone to us?” asked the police officer addressing Rajitha.

 

“Yes” said Rajitha calmly.

 

“Mister., you have broken the door and are using violence against the lady” said the officer and held the shirt collar of Prabhakar.

 

Prabhakar was about to say something.

 

“Shut up” shouted the officer.

 

“I am her husband” hissed Prabhakar defiantly.

 

“So this is the manner a husband enters his wife’s house!” said the officer pointing at the broken door and the disheveled hair of Rajitha.

 

The irony in the words of the officer hit Prabhakar harder than a lathi blow.

 

Rajitha took a few steps and collected from the floor the embroidery frame quietly as if nothing had happened.

 

As the police officer walked away with Prabhakar she calmly said “Thank you, sir!”

 

Prabhakar turned round at her words shaking with rage.

 

*****

 

It was eight in the night.  Rajitha was watching the T.V.

 

The telephone rang.

 

“Rajitha!  I got Prabhakar released on bail from the Police Station.  He swallowed poison later.  He is now in the hospital struggling between life and death.  Are you satisfied with the revenge you took on him?” said her father-in-law angrily.

 

Rajitha put the receiver down and sat at the T.V. set increasing the volume.

 

Fifteen minutes later the call bell tinkled.  It was Rajitha’s uncle.

 

“Rajitha!  Do you know that Prabhakar swallowed poison?”

 

Rajitha did not reply.

 

Her uncle came in and sat in the sofa.  Rajitha raised the volume on the T.V.

 

“Switch off the idiot box,” said her uncle annoyed.

 

She lowered the audio.  The video was on.  A Chinese girl athlete was performing acrobatics on the jumping horse.

 

Rajitha sat lost observing the breath taking performance of the girl athlete.

 

“I spoke to you just now” said her uncle raising his voice.

 

“What did you say, uncle?” replied Rajitha turning round.

 

“Prabhakar made a suicide bid on his life”

 

“I know” she said and changed the channel.  She switched the T.V. off when a Telugu movie came up.

 

“How could you remain so calm and unperturbed having known about it?”

 

“Hundreds of people have been committing suicide in the world.  Do you ever feel sorry for them, Uncle?”

 

“But this concerns us.”

 

“What is important to you is not important to me.  What troubles you doesn’t trouble me.”

 

“Then you don’t mind whatever happens to Prabhakar.”

 

Rajitha nodded to signify that she wouldn’t mind.

 

“It was I who brought about your marriage with him.”

 

Rajitha looked at her uncle quizzically.

 

“You got us married.  But we have to live together.  We have to possess an understanding between us to do so.”

 

“You see, a husband and wife….”

 

Rajitha cut him short.

 

“They not only have a right to live together but have a right to separate also.”

 

“Oh God!  How clever you have grown!  Is it my Rajitha who was born in Narsaraopet and brought up by me that speaks these words?” said her uncle surprised.

 

“Why did you stop there uncle?  Continue your harangue.  Scold my education.  Scold my job, my office and my colleagues.  Scold my friends, the books I read--------”

 

“But tell me first why you left him and came away here.”

 

Rajitha went in to make tea.

 

“Rajitha! Tell me!”

 

Rajitha did not reply.

 

“Anyway, what was wrong with Prabhakar, to begin with?

 

Rajitha did not speak up for sometime.  She brought in tea.

 

Her uncle finished drinking tea in silence and started cajoling her for an answer.

 

“You are in elderly person.  I don’t want to confuse you by my silence.  We can’t get on with each other.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He doesn’t possess the basic culture of respecting his wife.  His education, his job, his family status and his outward behaviour impressed you.  I too was taken in by these attributes.”

 

She paused.

 

“No doubt elders bring about the marriage of youngsters.  They take them to the banks of a river and put them in a boat.  They stop at the shore.  The newly weds have to complete the voyage with mutual understanding and respect for each other.  If the ability to understand the other is lacking in one of them, the other suffers loneliness.  This feeling of loneliness is a horrible experience.”

 

“I liked Prabhakar.  Though I am highly educated and qualified professionally, I did not take up a job as he did not like it.  I understood that he wanted me to be like any housewife and forsook a job without being told so by him.  I forsook my friends also.  I kept my closest friend Suseela at a distance as her family does not stand equal in status to his family.  I changed myself shutting out the “me” and “mine” of my life to be and become one with him.

 

She again paused.

 

“Uncle! What did I gain and receive in my married life these eight years except unending loneliness?  He treated me as a machine that would obey all his orders.  I couldn’t tell him that his activities were not to my liking.  If I did so there would be chaos in the house.  His education, his status etc. were only a mask.  He would use abusive words which no cultured person would ever use to his wife.  Anyway, why should I keep quiet when he acts senselessly?

 

Her uncle kept listening to her silently.

 

“Uncle! Should he not try to know how much I sacrificed, how much I struggled to give him all that he wanted of me and how much I lost in the process?  You elders say these sacrifices are small things.  Bricks are small.  But they help to build a huge mansion.  I like and want only small mercies and small joys.  I believe in a simple faith.  They are the measuring rods for me to make me happy in my life.  I didn’t expect or crave from him for bigger things.”

 

She continued.

 

“I lost my identity in trying to please him.  I didn’t gain anything by doing so.  As he was going abroad he put me in the present job more to earn money for him than to keep me engaged.  This little good which he did me has now turned against him.  All these years I lived for his joys, his pleasures, his likes and dislikes.

 

“Why should I live with a man who doesn’t care to know what my likes, dislikes and problems are?  I am no longer a kid to obey elders in fear.  I can’t lead a life with a man who thinks of other joys when his wife is by his side.  There is no need for me to put up with a life which does not give me what I desire.  He wanted me to give up my job after he returned from abroad.  I refused.

 

She looked at her uncle who was lost in deep thought.

 

“Now I have my home all for myself.  Prabhakar is trying to destroy the shelter I have built for myself.  He is raising a hue and cry when his word has not been heeded by me.  Let him rave and rant as long as he wishes.  Aren’t you all there to sympathise with him?”

 

“I know you have been hurt.  I don’t deny it.  But basically he is a good person” said her uncle after a while.

 

“I don’t need your recommendation.  Families cannot be run on recommendations, nor can love grow on atrocities.”

 

Rajitha went into the kitchen with the tea things

 

“I’ll get along” said her uncle rising from the sofa.

 

“Thank you for coming” replied Rajitha briefly.

 

As her uncle crossed the doorway, he saw Prabhakar leaning against the doorframe.  He looked very ill.

 

“You! Prabhakar! You should be in the hospital!”

 

“Sh!” cautioned Prabhakar, “I have come away from the hospital.  I want to talk to Rajitha.”

 

“Okay.  Walk in” said Rajitha’s uncle.

 

“You had better go.  I want to talk to her alone.”

 

“Did you over hear our conversation?”

 

Prabhakar nodded in the affirmative and signaled the old man to go.

 

Rajitha stood speechless on seeing Prabhakar walk in with a wobbling gait and slump into the sofa.  His face had turned black, his jaws were sunken.  His eyes had lost their luster.

 

There was silence for a few moments.

 

“Rajitha!” called Prabhakar in a feeble voice.  There was no authority in it, only repentance.

 

“Raji! I am sorry, I’ve come to seek your pardon.  I was afraid I would die without apologising to you.  That’s why I came away.  I am sorry, I should have returned your love ten fold.  Instead I behaved like a beast.  I’ve realised my mistake.  I haven’t come to request you to come home.  I’ve come to tell you that my behaviour has been unpardonable.  I am sorry.”

 

He tried to stand up but couldn’t.  He fell limp on the floor.

 

Rajitha quickly held him and guided him to the sofa.  She gave him a pillow for support.

 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” he repeated.

 

“Rajitha! I love you” he said “please don’t leave me! Please don’t”, he said sobbing.

 

Rajitha gently passed her hand on his head.  With great effort he moved and embraced her pressing her to his bosom.

 

Rajitha helped him to recline on the sofa.  She telephoned to her father-in-law.

 

“Prabhakar is with me.  Don’t be agitated”. She then telephoned the doctor.

 

“Rajitha!” called Prabhakar with an emotion choked voice.

 

“The doctor will be here soon.  Don’t strain yourself” she said gently.

 

He held both her hands and buried his head in her palms.

 

“Rajitha! Have you pardoned me?”

 

“- - - - - - -”

 

“Please speak”

 

“- - - - - - -”

 

“Please speak.”

 

“Mere pardoning may bring people nearer but cannot make them one” she said coolly.

 

Her words were pointed and revealed the truth in which she believed.

 

He held her palm against his cheek.

 

“It is so.  But nearness may help in finding an opportunity to become one again!”

 

Rajitha did not answer him.  She felt a great inner happiness at that moment.  She felt relieved of a great burden.

 

The joy of true love flapped its wings in the inner recesses of her heart.

 

 

Translated from original Telugu by Sri D. Ranga Rao

 

 

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