Boo!

“Tai, your tea is getting cold,” says Latabai, putting away her own cup of tea back on the tray.

Krishna smiles and puts her almost full tea-cup to her lip. It is stone cold now. And tasteless. Although, the coldness of it has less to do with the tastelessness of it, than what Latabai sits talking about.

The housekeeper came to see her late in the evening when Krishna was sitting on her porch wondering about the sudden change in the weather. The wind had picked up, leading her to think it may rain again, or at the very least, there would be a storm coming soon... making it difficult for Ananta and her to go for their walk tomorrow morning. 

Now, she has made fresh tea, so the two women could sit and chat.   

They have done this a few times when the housekeeper has had a few hours off from work. And while they aren’t exactly friends, Krishna likes the frankness and honesty of the housekeeper; and admires the fact that the woman doesn’t use her circumstances to beg, borrow or steal, but believes in dignity of labour and does her job proudly and diligently. Krishna also appreciates that Latabai isn’t one of those people who cry about their situation and live hopelessly, but hopes for a better future for her children and works hard towards it. Krishna can relate to that – not losing out to your circumstances, but having aspirations, instead.

What the woman is here for though, so late, and in such clearly worsening weather; is something that has Krishna bothered.      

“I haven’t known you for a very long time,” the housekeeper says; “But Tai, I have heard a lot about you from the townspeople. Many of them knew your family, especially your parents. I had not known that your father was a teacher in the local school! My son studies there Tai, and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me feel, to know that people like you and Dada have studied in the same school. Gives me hope that my son too, would amount to something someday.”

Krishna smiles, telling her that it doesn’t matter what school one goes to, so long as they do the right things and learn the right way. And then they move on to other subjects and talk about common acquaintances.

All the while though, Krishna notices that Latabai is not here to merely shoot the breeze, she has something on her mind. But Krishna also knows that the housekeeper will come to the point only when she feels it is the right time. And so she waits patiently.

“Tai, many of your old school friends must have now gone away na? Married, moved away…”

Krishna nods.

“Ummm…Tai, stop me right away if you feel it is inappropriate for me to say this to you. But… I cannot just hear what I hear and know what I know... and not tell you. You see, Tai, I respect you a lot. And I can understand you are lonely here, in a new place. I am also aware of why you have left your husband and come here. And I know Dada is now your only friend in this place…

But Tai, why don’t you please go out and make other friends? I know you are friendly with the people in the neighbourhood, but I mean…try and make some other friends… call people home… spend time with others….”

And Krishna understands.

Her fear of being judged by the people, is now turning into a reality. But where she had thought that people would judge her for having left her husband and for having stood up to him; here she is, being judged for none of that, but something else entirely.

Krishna notes, sadly, that while the society has progressed to acknowledge and even support a woman separated from her husband; it is still not progressive enough to allow the woman to acknowledge her love, much less to a man who is older in age, even less, when the woman is elderly herself.

The anxiety that has gnawed at her since the day Ananta took her to the play, is taking the shape of local gossip. She understands that if the housekeeper finds it important to speak personally with Krishna, then the town must already be abuzz with chatter.

Of course, this doesn’t surprise Krishna, she has always known this would happen someday. You cannot behave the way she and Ananta behave and not have people talking about it. You cannot hope, even in your own hearts, what Ananta and she were hoping for, and not have people blather.

“What is it Latabai?” she asks. “What has you so worried?”

“Please Tai, don’t get me wrong,” the woman pleads, “but Tai, people talk. They ask me questions too, since I am the closest to you and Dada. I know you both are friends and need the company of each other. I have a drunk for a husband Tai, and I understand the need for pure companionship. I do. But not all people do.      

And while I feel for you, really; it is only you I can talk about this to. Because, it is only you who can be expected to do something about it Tai. Since time immortal, people have expected sacrifices only of women. From the time when Sita was sent for agnipariksha, to the time when Draupadi was gambled away by her husbands, to today, women like you and I suffer at the hands of abusive men – it is still the woman that is expected to sacrifice Tai. And I beg of you, if anyone can stop people’s wagging tongues, it is you. Please Tai, please, make other friends, be seen with other people. Spend time with other people…”

Krishna nods, understanding the housekeeper’s distress. She doesn’t feel angry or upset with Latabai, she isn’t the type to shoot the messenger anyway; and plus, it is difficult to shoot someone who is so true and honest.

Long after the housekeeper has left, Krishna lies on her bed at night. She has barely had dinner – there’s no taste to food anymore. Her window lies open, letting in the cool night wind, and she can see clouds gathering in the sky as thunder and lightning take their turns warning her of the impending storm. She cannot miss feeling the closeness to Ananta next door, sleeping in the bedroom closest to hers. Alone, in his home, while she lies alone in hers.

What is it with society, she thinks; that one cannot ever live the way one wants? Why does the society have to ruin everything? Society, a monster that always asks for sacrifice and breaks hearts and ruins lives!

Krishna thinks of her own sister, who married the man that impregnated her – not because she loved him, but just so that their parents could save face in the society. Krishna thinks how she herself was married to a man she barely knew, and when he turned out to be abusive, she never left him – not because she was not strong enough, but because she didn’t want her daughter to grow up with the stigma of being raised by a divorcee mother. It didn’t help, of course, that he was manipulative enough to show that he was still a good father to their daughter – and so it was only right, in the eyes of the society for Krishna to stick on.  

And then she thinks about Ananta, a sigh escaping her….Her Ananta…. who had asked for her heart all those years back, but couldn’t come and ask for her hand, because according to the norms of the society, he wasn’t “ready” enough, wasn’t “settled” enough to get married to her.

Her Ananta… who got married as per the norms of the society, to a woman who must have gotten into the marriage herself with so many aspirations, without realising that she was getting into a loveless marriage! Because Ananta’s heart was so broken, he could never love his wife.

So many lives ruined. So many lives scattered. All because of the same bogeyman – the society!

And now…. After all these years… when she and Ananta are looking at a fresh lease of life... the society – the monster – has reared its ugly head again. It once again asks for sacrifice. It once again wants to be appeased.  

This is Part 7 of the story I am writing as part of WriteTribe’s October 2017 ProBlogger Challenge.

The story is presented as an ongoing series. 
You can check out the story so far in Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6. And here's what happens in Part 8.