Story: An Invitation to Trouble

- Rupa came out of the kitchen and seeing her favorite saree in the hands of Lakshmi standing in the drawing room, her surprise and anger could not be overcome. 'What are you doing here?' Rupa asked almost snatching the saree from Lakshmi's hand and without waiting for an answer showed Lakshmi the way out and then showered me.

'Who knows what my parents saw in you that put my hand in yours.' The words spewed out of the wife's mouth as if coriander spluttered from a hot cauldron.

She entered the bathroom with the washed wet saree in her hand and sat down to wash again. I went and stood in front of the bathroom door.

'What now?' While pouring water on the saree, her hands stopped and she looked at me with anger pouring out of her eyes. I was getting used to all these things now. Now seeing it or not seeing it all seemed the same.

'Why is the washed saree being washed again?' I asked him to satisfy my curiosity.

She stopped looking at me and started rubbing soap on the sari, but stopped back to answer, then waved her hand in the air and said, 'That Lakshmi is attached to this sari. Was it supposed to be worn like this?'

Lakshmi is the wife of our watchman. That's why Rupa's beautiful face was turning red with anger, but no, not because of Lakshmi, maybe because of me. Just now, Rupa said, 'I don't know what my parents saw in you..'

I became sad at the thought and from there came to the drawing room.

Bablu was sitting on the sofa with a notebook, books and colored pencils spread out. He had no mind to study. Sometimes he used to take out the chocolate in his pocket and sometimes he used to take out a pencil from his pencil box and check its edge.

I closed my eyes and sat down on the dining table chair placed behind the sofa. The sound of washing clothes was coming from the bathroom. I started thinking, if Rupa keeps washing sarees for so long, the saree will surely get torn, but I know she will keep washing sarees till she can't find anything else to do. I was a stupid fool too. I knew that Rupa was a superstitious caste-religion woman. However, I did not notice Lakshmi bringing the saree inside.

'Sir, the sister's sari fell outside in the street. I brought Look at this sir.' There was no Rupa when she said this with her saree in her hand.

I needed to quickly take the saree from Lakshmi's hand and tell her to leave, but I just shook my head and sat down.

As Lakshmi stood up, I said, 'Okay, put it here.'

'But sir, if you put a wet sari here, the sari will get dirty, but wherever you put it, it will also get wet.' Lakshmi said folding the sari in her hand.

Hearing the noise, Rupa also came out of the kitchen and seeing her favorite saree in the hands of Lakshmi standing in the drawing room, her surprise and anger could not be overcome.

'What are you doing here?' Rupa asked, almost snatching the sari from Lakshmi's hand and without waiting for an answer, after showing Lakshmi the way out, it rained on me, 'What strange man are you? You talk to her while sitting and do not see how she was standing in the house.'

'So what happened?' I sat up a bit.

'Still asking me what happened? Born in a Brahmin clan and you have no need for the respect of this clan? I don't see how the shadow of that was spreading in our house.'

It is said, 'To be born in a Brahmin clan is no less than a curse, in which everything is measured and calculated. You are also human and Lakshmi is also human.' Although I had lowered my voice by the time I finished talking, Rupa got the gist of it.

'You compare me, your wife with a watchman's wife. Who knows what my parents saw in you, that they tied my end to you.'

I opened my eyes in confusion. The sound of washing clothes was still coming from the bathroom. Bablu was still looking at the chocolate, I wondered why he hadn't eaten the chocolate yet?

Just then the doorbell rang and the noise from the bathroom stopped. I know there will be no noise from the bathroom until I open the door. Rupa will be in a hurry to know who has arrived.

As soon as the door was opened, Jyotikaki, who lived in the neighborhood, had darshan. He had a big steel bowl in his hand.

'How are you aunty, having fun?' For the sake of prudence, I asked but I knew that aunty would have no problem but would sit down to cry her own grievances. Sometimes joint pain, sometimes fever, and if nothing else, fatigue.

I was thinking and aunt asked, 'No Rupa?'

'Isn't it. Just calling.' Maybe aunty is in a hurry today that's why she didn't say anything.

I shouted to Rupa. By then, Rupa had dried the saree and clipped it on the string, so that the saree does not fall again. As soon as she saw Rupa, the aunt's face turned sad and she said in a poor voice, 'Why daughter. I have come to get a bowl of sugar. I will return it soon. Rama's dad just left. Otherwise, they would have taken it from him.'

'No problem, aunty. I'm just bringing it.'

In a few minutes Rupa came with sugar in a bowl. Closing the door, Rupa again angrily went to cook in the kitchen.

I looked at Bablu. This time his attention was neither in the chocolate nor in the edge of the pencil. I asked him to study, so he put his bag in front of me and pointed with his finger at the sticker on the bag and said, 'Is this Superman? Superman helps everyone?'

I nodded, though I had no such experience as Superman had never helped me before.

'Dad, can I be Superman too?'

I told him lovingly, 'Son, how can you become superman without education?'

Bablu agreed with this answer and took out the books and sat down to study. Perhaps the lure of becoming Superman was forcing him to study.

'The name of a person, thing or place is called a noun such as Ram, Chair, Uttar Pradesh.' Bablu started to understand the definition of the noun.

I interrupted him, 'Bablu beta, think of three such examples yourself.'

Bablu started thinking, then said, 'Shyam, table, Kashmir.'

I laughed hearing this, but then I reassured my mind that Bablu was intelligent. It has the power to think, to understand.

But Bablu immediately hit on my idea. Placing the book on the table, he came to me and said, 'Dad, is Kashmir ours?'

'Yes son, a part of our country.' I explained it.

Immediately he threw another question, 'Dad, who is called a terrorist?'

I thought of something and replied, 'Son, one who spreads terror is called a terrorist.'

'What is terror?'

'Terror means fear, fear.'

'So mom is a terrorist.' Bablu spoke thoughtfully like a philosopher, so I burst out. Somewhere there was a fear in my mind that if Rupa hears it, she will say what kind of perverted things I am teaching my son. I immediately threatened Bablu and said, 'Mom why?'

'Because I get so scared when mommy hits me, that means mommy spreads terror, so mommy is a terrorist.' When Bablu defined it according to his thoughts, I felt that maybe I had given the wrong understanding of terrorist. I tried to explain again, 'Son, terrorists don't have a heart in their chest.'

'But papa, our teacher says that no one can live without a heart. Then how do terrorists survive?'

I was confused.

I explained again, 'I mean terrorists are very cruel, they have no mercy.'

'Dad, will you show me a terrorist?' Bablu is now eager to see the term terrorist, as if the terrorist is not an animal in a zoo! 'Say daddy, will you show me?' Bablu asked again, so I got angry, 'Go sit and study, when you see, you start talking.' I took advantage of being a dad and stood up quietly.

I opened the drawing room door and came out. Subhashbhai appeared walking fast. As he came near me, I smiled and took his joined hands in the namaste posture, but Subhashbhai did not smile. They seemed to be in trouble.

I said to him, 'Come, why did you come?'

Subhashbhai stood there and said, 'I am coming to admit Rameshbhai's son in the hospital.'

'Why, what happened to him? Saw him walking around yesterday.' I didn't believe it immediately.

'He has tried to commit suicide. Swallowed too many sleeping pills at once.'

'But why did he do it after all?'

Subhashbhai said, 'Vinod was useless. Terrified by the situation at home, he did so. I just wanted to tell you. I see little hope of Vinod's survival.'

'You sit down, don't you?' I insisted but he didn't agree.

By then Rupa had come out of the kitchen. Maybe he had heard my and Subhashbhai's talk too, that's why he didn't ask me anything and started saying to himself, 'In life, one can climb up, but it is not right to commit suicide out of fear. This is about running away from life. Where was the struggle in that?'

My brain started to go blank. How many problems are around us, in which some problems are invited by us and some come uncalled for, without being told. I collapsed on the sofa cushion.

Rupa was now preparing to serve the food on the table. Bablu was now trying to define the adjective. I was thinking, 'Watchman.. Superman.. Terrorist.. Bekari on one side and.. Lakshmi.. Rupa.. Vinod.. and Maaro Bablu on the other, aren't these two sides of the same coin.