The Normal Life (Part 22)
‘Saraaaah!’ I heard it again and stopped in my tracks. It was unmistakably his voice. I was in the garden by then. The main gate of the property was open and in my sight. But he was nowhere to be seen. The weather was warm, but I was chilled to the bones and started shaking.
Amol came running after me, “Sarah. What’s wrong? What are you…”
“I can’t talk right now, Amol,” I found my voice with difficulty, “Meera will arrange for anything you need. She knows you. Please find her.” Then I rushed back to my room.
I tossed and turned in my bed for couple of hours. I refused tea and snacks that Meera came to ask for. Finally I made up my mind to go to Hojukeri. I’d only try to find out about him from afar and not meet him. And I would try to steal a glance at him to convince myself that he was all right. Then I’d be back.
It was seven in the evening. If left for the bus-stop right away, I should be able to find an overnight bus to Bangalore, and another one to Madikeri from there. I called up the headmistress of my school and gave her some botched up excuse for a leave and packed up lightly.
Amol had left, I was informed to my relief. Meera insisted on packing dinner for me and as soon as she handed me the box, I left for the bus stop.
—
I got down at Madikeri this time and hired an auto for Hojukeri. Nobody was expected to pick me up this time and walking six kilometers would have meant losing time. Besides I would have to come back to Madikeri to find an accommodation if I needed to stay overnight. The auto would come in handy.
About a kilometer before Hojukeri, I stopped the auto and got talking to a shopkeeper on the pretense of asking directions for his plantation. What I heard there made my heart sink. Apparently there had been a fire in the house and the owner was injured badly. He no longer stayed in Hojukeri, but had shifted to Madikeri with the rest of the household. Would the shopkeeper know where in Madikeri did they live? I was a friend who had lost touch and did not have their number. He didn’t know, but I could ask his daughter’s nanny, who did not go to Madikeri with them and still stayed in the village with her own family. I thanked the shopkeeper and set out to look for Kaveri. Thankfully she was easy to locate. She screamed in excitement and delight on seeing me. I must see him right away, she insisted. He had suffered so much since I left.
“What happened?” my heart threatened to leap out of body and I was dying to go back to Madikeri to find him. But I also needed to know exactly what had happened. Kaveri’s narration of the events, as I later confirmed, was quite accurate.
—
Protim
“Oh dear, dear husband! How lonely you must have been without me to have fallen for that minger!” Sunita had grown more vicious during her absence from my life. Why had she come back anyway? Had she run out of handsome lovers? I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had. Drugs had taken a toll on her. She was still pretty, but the glow of youth and health that made her irresistible was gone. Her eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow and lips chafed.
And her presence had become toxic.Sarah’s abandonment had been hard enough of Annie. Sunita’s presence did not help her get over Sarah though. It only terrified her. It was difficult to imagine that Sunita was her biological mother and Sarah had been the adoptive one. I had to take Annie to Mysore with me on the days I was there. Neither she, nor I felt comfortable in her staying back while Sunita was around. It was wreaking havoc on her studies and well-being. Finally I had to take the hard decision. If it wasn’t possible for me throw Sunita out of the house — she was still my wife and still refused to give me a divorce without bringing Annie in between — Annie must go to someplace she was safer. I admitted her to a boarding. She was devastated, and her tears wouldn’t stop for weeks after I left her there, but I could think of no other solution.
I had steadfastly refused to let Sunita provoke me with anything. I pretended not to listen when she taunted me about Sarah. When she insisted on occupying my bedroom, I gathered my things and made myself comfortable in Sarah’s old room. There were other rooms in the house. But I took up that one only to spite Sunita. She knew whose room it was. I hadn’t let anyone touch it since Sarah had left.
Her inability to provoke me annoyed her. She couldn’t accept failure in even so petty a mission and doubled up her efforts. I don’t want to recall all the name-calling and taunting she subjected me to in those days.
And then the fire happened and it all ended abruptly.
—
Sarah
The gate was unlocked and I didn’t see anybody as I walked through the doorway. I could hear faint sounds in the kitchen and I tip-toed in. Chanda let out a startled cry at first, and then another one of – I don’t know what. Surprise? Happiness?
“Sarah! It’s you,” she ran to me and hugged me. Our relationship had always been cordial, but I wasn’t prepared for this display of affection.
“How are you?” I asked her; my Hindi had become better during my stay in Pune.
“It was wrong, oh, it was wrong. Yet, nothing has gone right since you left. Are you really back? Would you meet him?”
“Is this his dinner?” I pointed at the paltry spread on a tray. A young woman, presumably a helper for aging Chanda, was holding the tray. A bowl of soup, a little lemon rice and a cup of tea! Tea? For dinner?
Chanda understood what I was thinking. She explained, “It is so difficult to feed him anything. Even from this, half of the soup and the rice would come back, if he would eat at all. He wouldn’t use the dining table for his dinner. I would leave the tray in his room and then hope that he at least looks at it.”
“Let me take it. Where is his room?”
—
To be continued