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From last 49 years, I have a beautiful companionship with my readers. I am happy to introduce this web magazine for you all.  

Sulochana Rani Y.(Editor)                               Vivekananda Murthy Kadiyala (Associate Editor )                                                                                                                                          

My perceptions about life

Yaddanapudi Sulochana Rani

Translation of her article in

‘MANA BHOOMI’

May,2006

Sri Rama Navami!

I was born on this great day. Throughout the country, in every city, in every village, the festivities in connection with the birth of Lord Sri Rama are celebrated with great enthusiasm and fanfare. I was also born on this wonderful festival day and naturally, because of this, my joy, touching the sky, is simply indescribable.

This year, on the day of Sri Rama Navami, I have completed 65 years in my life.

Yes---65 years!

I have had the opportunity of spending such a prolonged time on this earth. I have seen a number of younger people, leaving for the world of no return, because of some accident. The lives of some people were ruined because of renal failure, cardiac aliments etc. Some have committed suicide.

I told my friend ‘look here, I am now 65 plus.’ The lady did not bother to congratulate me. She is not happy about this. ‘You are a mad woman’-This was her response. Why? According to her, if one is 65 years old, one has to cry. Now, the goddess of death will embrace at any time. Well---I just don’t care. I don’t believe it also. When we arrive into this world, God decides our last day also. The possibility of death is also with us. But nature has been kind enough to me by allowing me to live for 65 years. During this period, I derived a lot of happiness and gained countless experiences. Therefore I am extremely happy!

I don’t know whether I had a previous birth or not; nor do I know whether I would have another life after my exit from this World. That’s why I consider every moment of my life to be something precious and special, which would bring happiness to me. When I hear the noise of the branches of the tree, I feel that each day is a new life bringing happiness.

Every day I enjoy coffee, while sitting in front of the sunrays spreading light. When that hot coffee cup touches my lips, and when my tongue gets a taste of that lovely coffee, some inexplicable happiness takes over my mind like a huge ripple. There is happiness and dynamism of the highest order in every nerve of mine. I strongly feel like shouting at the top of my voice. ‘I am alive. Yes, I am alive.’

Death---what does it signify? What does it indicate? Well----death is the address of silence.

Dynamic state stands for life; it stands for existence.

 On this 65th birthday, I am extremely happy, precisely because of this.

Now, I feel like a sucking calf. You might be wishing and praying for it. You might be crying and in that process---well---you may even fall down. In spite of all these things, the present dynamic state of the body cannot be there for a very long time. That is why they say that one should try to derive the maximum advantage, when the situation is in one’s favor. So, we should enjoy life completely, during the present favorable phase in our lives.

I always remind myself on every birthday that I should thank the lord thousands of times; for having been kind enough to me and for having given me a very happy life. Right from the days, when I was a baby, depending on my mother for the milk, and till this time I did not experience as to what exactly is hunger. More than adequate quantity of food has always been available. Never did I suffer for lack of a place where I could stay. I might have become sick occasionally. I never had any major health problem. Thus, I am one of those lucky persons enjoying good health. Is not this enough to make me happy? I have seen a number of people suffering from various ailments. Therefore, I realize the immense value of the comfort associated with good health.

When I was a child, my mother used to give me an oil bath on my birthday. Then, she used to give me the new scurt and jacket. These things used to make me extremely happy. A feeling that I was the only recipient of such specialized treatment was very much there in my mind. I used to rush to the temple like a butterfl with colourful wings. . Well ---all these thoughts are uppermost in my mind.

And in the temple, I used to bow down before the offering of camphor, go nearer to my mother, who was just behind me. Then I would put my hands around her waist, look up and see her face. She would fondle my hair. I can never forget these things. Pampering by my parents, the affection poured on me by my elder brothers and sisters, these family attachments, as pleasant as the perfume of flowers--- well, there will always be a break in every happy phase of the life. In my case, by the time I became a young girl, this has happened. Now tragedy has struck me.

 My darling grand mother passed away when I was 14.My mother to whom I was attached very much left me in another 3 years. When I was 21, my father also breathed his last. By that time I was married and arrived in Hyderabad. When I was in my native place, I wrote the stories---‘Chitra Nalineeyam’, Radha padina Badha,’pelli prayanam’. They were published in ‘Andhra patrika’. Now, many readers have started liking me. I reached a stage, when the publishers of magazines thought it fit to request me to write fiction for them. Then followed  the prolonged  tryst with the pen. There was no time, absolutely no time even to look back for a single moment. I have not passed through any vicissitudes in my life. Thanks to my spectacular success on the literary front, my reputation reached its zenith .  I also became a mother during the same period. As a mother and as a writer, I was extremely and extraordinarily happy.

My profession is to write fiction. My hobby? Well---writing fiction. My entire life has been devoted for designing stories and to put on them on the paper. Indeed, I am very lucky. I was always engrossed in fulfilling my commitments—writing novels and redeeming the promises made. I was blessed with fans from different sections engaged in all sorts of occupations ----managers/publishers/editors of periodicals and also filmmakers, in addition to people ,  who are experts in their own fields and novices from different professions. Then there were some people not happy with my popularity. For over four decades, I was living completely in the world of fiction and immersed in the creation of wonderful thoughts.

Roza and Chandu of ‘Jeevana Tarangaalu’,Meena and Krishna from the novel ‘Meena’,Jayanti ,Rajasekharam and ‘Bammagaru’[Grand Mother] in the novel ‘Secretary’----all these characters could secure a permanent place in the hearts of the readers. It appeared that they  have become real life characters. Discussion and analysis about these personalities had become a regular feature.

My joy knew no bounds. It was a period of meditation, study, and endless effort. I never bothered about anything else. I was always having white papers in front of me. A tube light was there in my room. I was writing and writing. I had forgotten about moonlight and everything else. Well---this is my life; this is my lifestyle. In so far as my readers are concerned, the dividing line between me and my fiction appears to have disappeared long back; at which point of time, this has happened, well, I don’t know. My readers did not leave me alone, after perusing and enjoying my works. They wanted to know more about me and my personality. They wanted to meet me. Now their concentration is on my personality. I found that waiting for those readers who wanted to interact with me is rather difficult. While I can write stories without much effort, I can’t speak to people, especially with strangers for a long time. I get tired in the process. I had a variety of experiences with these visitors. After seeing me, some were rather disappointed. They felt bored after seeing the simple lady. Some people used to tell me that I was looking like the heroine in my stories. Somehow, I was not very much elated about these observations about my personality. Left to myself, I would love to have a peaceful life. I like loneliness. The time I would spend with my family members was very limited.

I have spent 4 long decades in this profession of writing. Gradually  a realization has dawned on me that my life has been completely devoted to pen. This is some thing which ought not to have happened. One should have some happy personal life as well. For that, time has got to be found. If one does not put a break for one’s profession at some point or other, there is every possibility of family life getting completely submerged.   

In the beginning of one’s career, one sets apart some time for future planning. During this time, an attempt will be made to build up the career, to display the talent or to demonstrate the merit. A feeling that rest is not at all necessary will be there, when one is young. Then a desire to get the first position in the mad running race will dominate. When so much effort is put in, naturally one will earn money as well as reputation. These things will act as dopes and will further encourage the man to perform better. What is the final result in this hard work, in this industry? He will lose the most precious period in his life. When he is middle-aged, he does not like to take note of the warning signals about his health. He rejects the idea of reducing the rapidity with which he acts to get the number one slot. It is indeed the all pervading and all embracing competitive spirit that is decisive. He does not like to be behind anybody. This is the only urge and he does not bother about his own actual and reasonable requirement.

When I was a child, I used to go to panduranga Swamy temple in chilakalapudi in Machilipatnam along with my parents in a horse drawn cart. The horseman used to tie fresh and beautiful green grass around a stick. The stick would be placed slightly away from the mouth of the horse. The horse used to run at the maximum possible speed with a view to reach the stick and enjoy the grass. Whatever may be the speed, the horse would not achieve the goal. Whenever I come across people who had achieved a lot and in spite of this, they are not that happy and want to achieve something more, I am reminded of the horse and grass scene.

At some point or other, we should question ourselves. How long should we run like this? Is there no end for this? Can’t we think of some other life for ourselves?   

I have started putting this question to myself. My life has been full of happiness. I never had to struggle for anything. Thanks to my works, I earned a lot of money. I have established myself as a reputed writer. It was happiness, happiness all the way. This profession has dominated my life very much and in the process, the original Sulochna Rani has been pushed to the background. More important than this profession, the reputation, appreciation from the fans, and the concomitant happiness, there is something else. That is more important. That is simple, peaceful and pleasant life.

That Sulochana Rani, the simple rural belly, with a heart as pure as that of an infant is happy with very small things; for instance, the hubbub caused by the movement of birds, the cool breeze from the branches of the trees, the rising and the retiring of the Sun, the pleasant smell coming from the soil, when it rains----I enjoy all these things. To be really happy, you simply don’t require very big things. Slowly, I have started marginalizing the writer in me. I believe that till a man reaches his 50^th year, he should concentrate on his profession. And after 50,he should live his life completely. In fact his profession should be to live.

It is with this firm idea in my mind that I have learnt the art of living like a lady, who is not a writer. I am very happy now. There is no disturbance; there is no pressure on me. I am quite peaceful. Would you like to ask me as to what I am doing now? I have learnt working on a computer. I have started a website www.iwoman.in. Even without my asking, this society has given me a lot. I thought that I am duty bound to give some thing in return. I joined the group serving the cancer patients. I am also helping the senior citizens. During the post-retirement period, some doctors and academicians met me. This team work makes me very happy. Many people ask me: ‘Madam, what would have happened to you if you had had not the tryst with the pen? My life has not given me this chance. Right from the days I can recall, I was always in the world of books and letters only.

However, I have started questioning myself. Yes. What would have happened to me if I had not fallen in love with the pen? I would have certainly become a scientist. Why? As a Scientist, I would have invented a vaccine to ensure the complete annihilation of the two evils, viz. envy and intolerance from the society. These two, as every one knows are causing immense harm to the humanity. I can well visualize a situation, the happy state of affairs in this World, if every body in this world is good, kind and compassionate to others. I would like to give the same message to the society even now. All of us should live like good human beings. We are here only for a few days. Let us forget about hatred, jealousy and revenge. Let us not become sick and suffer from dreadful diseases. Let every body live with peace of mind.

That is why I have been blessed with unlimited bliss. Now, I am not interested in name and fame. It is as if some heavy weight has been taken away from my mind. I am in a relaxed state of mind. A strong desire to do and to achieve some thing; and frustration arising out of inability to make an impact—these two things can result in a tremendous strain on the man. After 50, we should just forget about such things.

What my friend said about me is also correct!

The goddess of death is approaching me. I have already spent three fourths of my life without being completely aware of it. Now, the time has come for me to mull over several things. Who am I? What are my origins? Where can I trace my roots in this nature? How is it that I may not be in this world? Will I see my 66^th birthday? Or is it necessary for me to say goodbye to myself just now? One day I have to go. Those who passed away earlier have warned me about this! What exactly is this life? Did I ever ponder over this at any time? When I arrived here, when the midwife introduced me to this world,cutting the umblical cord from my mother  surely, I must have cried like any other child. However, if the lord instructs me to come back by discarding my life, surely I am not at all going to cry. Why? I have understood this life thoroughly. What is that I have understood?

‘Mother sends the children to the park. She will tell them to play and instructs them to come back before it becomes dark. After play, the children will go back to their home. All of us are just like that!

Somewhere in the nature, in some other life, we were taking shelter. Mother nature has given us a clear shape and a distinct life. She has sent us here. This world, this earth---all this is just like a park. She expects us to play in this park, in this playing ground known as the World and to go back. The time at our disposal is limited. Let us ensure that our minds are clear, pure and let us make best use of the time. Let us enjoy, shout at the top of our voices, clap and go on shouting with drenching in joy of waterfall .  This life is just a break for playing and enjoying. During this period, let us avoid things like quarrels, hatred, deceit, murders, ego, greed, sorrow, victory, defeat and disappointment. We have been sent here by the mother nature. She does not want us to hate or kill each other. There is an inbuilt instruction in her decision that we should be in this world for a short while. And that is we should all be happy and enjoy and love each other. We are forgetting that. In that process, we are becoming lifeless. This park created by the nature is permanent. It will always be there to invite the new generations to come, play and enjoy. It will provide place for them. We should go.

By the time, one is 65, one gets tired. It is time to put a stop for playing and relaxing.

Once while passing through the train, I saw something interesting. A lady who has covered herself with a ‘shawl’ was sitting on the bench in one railway station. The train  was approaching that station. She thought that it was the train for which she was waiting and she got up. The train did not stop there. It continued its journey, ignoring that station. She sat down again on that bench, after realizing that it was not her train. I was watching her very carefully from the window. There was no tension in her face. It was extremely peaceful.

The Sun was about to set. The rays from the Sun were touching her. Her face was shining in a beautiful manner, giving an impression that it was the very personification of dynamism.

On this 65th birthday! I would see myself as the lady sitting on the bench and waiting for the train in which I could get into for the final journey. 

Translated by B.G.S.Rao

courtesy:  " MAA BHOOMI"

                                                 **************

TRUE LOVE

(Short Story)

By Yaddanapudi Sulochana Rani

Raji! Raji!

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! You 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 fold 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 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 dear?”

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 TV.

The telephone rang.

“Rajitha! I got Prabhakar released on bail from the Police Station. He swallowed poison later. He is now in the hospital strolling 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 TV 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 TV.

“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 TV of 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 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.”

I will give you a cup of tea”

Rajitha went into the kitchen.

“Rajitha! Tell me!” he shouted.

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 again for an answer.

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

“Why?”

“He doesn’t possess the basic culture of respecting his wife. His education, his job, his family status and his outward behavior 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.”

“Uncle, 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. 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 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 a 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 others 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 heeded by me. Let him rave and rant as long as he wishes. Aren’t you all there to sympathize 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 in to 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 apologizing 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 realized my mistake. I haven’t come to request you to come home. I’ve come to tell you that my behavior 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.

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 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 by

D Ranga Rao

_____________________***********************_____________________

Beloved Companion 

“My eyes won’t deceive me.” She tried to get free from his grip.” He did not let go his hold.

“Listen to me. Let me talk.”

“I won’t listen. I hate people who change colors every minute!” She got herself free from his hold and started back. Suddenly she turned round and said “For heaven’s sake do not come to our house again. My brother does not allow anyone whom I don’t like please go!”

He stood there stunned. Sucharita rushed into her room and banged the door shut. He stood there for a minute & decided to go. He saw the camera and walked back.

“Sucharita. Open the door” he said calmly.

“I won’t” she said with great force.

“Please.”

“Enough. I don’t have a pitying heart to melt easily and talk to you.”

“Will you open the door or no?”

“I won’t.”

“Open the door. Don’t behave like a child!” He began to knock at the door.

Ravi came in at that moment.

“What happened Hemant? What is all this about?”

“Sucharita is not opening the door.”

“Is she not opening the door? What is the matter?” Ravi got perturbed and started banging the door.

“Suchi! Suchi.”

Suddenly Sucharita opened the door a little. Her eyes were blood-shot. Without looking at Hemant and showing him with her finger she asked Ravi to send that gentlemen away first. Then she would open the door. So saying she shut the door again.

Ravi looked at Hemant with surprise, fear and disbelief. “What happened?” he asked with a quivering voice. There was sweat all over his brow.

“Come here, I will tell you,” Hemant said to Ravi and took him into the front room. Ravi sat in the chair. He opened his shirt buttons and pushed back his shirt on his chest to air himself. “Oh! Is this all! I got terrified thinking that something horrible happened.”

“To-day you both made me feels terrified. Hemant, don’t feel bad. Suchi does not know anything about your family. I will talk to her.” He got up from the chair and went to the door. “Suchi, please open the door.”

“Did he go?” Sucharita opened the door.

“Hemant told me what happened, Suchi, I think you reacted in haste. His mother and sisters are arrogant. They are moneyed people. His mother suspects that some girl will entice him. That is why she does not allow girls to go near him. Hemant does not talk about his friends at home. He behaves in a similar manner with us also if he meets us when his people are about. He is afraid that his mother may insult his friends. He faced such situations once or twice before.”

“In that case we must maintain distance from him. Tomorrow they may insult us.”

“Let us be on our guard and avoid such situations. Look! Hemant is important for us. Not his family members.”

“How is it possible brother? Friendship with Hemant and enmity with his family! It is not possible.”

“We are not going to be inimical with them. Let us understand his problem Suchi. Hemant is a very good man. In his friendly nature there are no evil designs. What all he can do help us he does and has done. Let us not think of things he could not do. We are his friends, Suchi. We have to understand his difficulties.”

“How do I know all this?” Sucharita looked at Ravi with an innocent face.

“You do not know. That is what Hemant also says. Come. He is in the front room. Say ‘sorry’ to him.

“Me?”

“Yes. You. Be my darling sister.”

Sucharita followed Ravi rather unwillingly to the front room. Hemant was standing there.

“Sorry” said! Sucharita.

“Please don’t mention” he said. He picked up the camera lying in the chair and gave it to her. Sucharita took it.

Thank you. I have great respect for you and Ravi” said Hemant.

“Sucharita looked up. Hemant also looked into her eyes.

Though she could not read his thoughts she felt that she had pained him.

“Give us a hot cup of coffee quickly” said Ravi.

By the time she returned with coffee Hemant and Ravi were discussing business matters.

Receiving the cup from her Hemant said “You made me mad in a trice.”

“I too went mad” she said laughing.

“Both of you made me mad for a moment and I had to cure myself with a glass of water first,” said Ravi.

“Will you give me the Buddha statuette now?” asked Hemant.

“Oh! Yes,” she ran in. She brought a little bag of beads along with the statuette and said she was making a garland out of them for the statuette.

“Hemant. Sit for a while! I will give all those calculations. Take them home and study them” said Ravi. Hemant nodded consent.

Ravi was sitting at the table working out the calculations. Sucharita was making a garland of pink beads keeping the statuette on a stool.

Hemant touched the garland with his fingers. “The name of this garland is Sucharita, as the beads are in pink color. When ever laugh or get angry or feel pain, you turn pink. That is why.”

As the beads of the garland were slipping off, Hemant held the end of the thread. Sucharita laughed at his words. “If that is so I will make another garland of green beads. Because you like green. The name of that garland is Hemant.” She placed green beads into his palm.

Hemant laughed. Looking at the Buddha he said “Then Sucharita and Hemant will be around Buddha’s neck, close together without quarrels and always in friendship.”

Sucharita laughed. She pulled all the beads out of the thread suddenly.

“Why did you do so?” he asked in surprise.

Sucharita started making the garland again with pink and green beads alternately.

“Why should they be separate? Sucharita and Hemant will be together in one thread as a single garland.”

“Oh! This is very fine indeed” he said.

As Sucharita was running the beads into the thread, Hemant held the other end of the thread in his hand answering Ravi with the details of the accounts Ravi wanted from him.

(To be Continued........)

Mar06

  **************************************

Chapter – II

Dark clouds were gathering fast.

It was an old house. The walls of the house had faded colours. Here and there the cement plaster on the walls had pealed off exposing the brick work. The windows were rattling in the heavy breeze. Suddenly a blast of wind scattered the papers kept on the table all over the room.

A girl aged about eighteen came rushing from the Kitchen cursing the wind.  She was thin, slender and light in complexion. She collected all the papers, put them on the table and kept a bound book on them for weight. As the rattling was continuous she closed the windows. The loud splattering of rain drops made her rush up to the terrace where the clothes were hung on the clothes – line to dry.

Running up the stairs she quickly pulled off the clothes from the clothes – line and put them on her shoulders. By then she was drenched in the heavy drizzle.

Cursing herself for washing all the clothes that day and cursing the rain she started down the stairs with the clothes thrown about her shoulders.

A tall young man was sitting on his motor bike with one of his legs supporting on the varandah step.  “Is Ravi in?”  he asked the young girl coming down the terrace steps.

“No” said the girl haughtily. She tripped over a step unexpectedly and fell flat.  She shrieked aloud while falling. She quickly stood up.

Both were embarrassed at what happened. “Sorry. Are you hurt?”  asked the young man.

For a moment the girl was confused.  That a stranger saw her fall made her go red in face. She quietly collected the clothes that lay scattered, ran into the house and banged the door shut. The young man sat on the bike like a statue for a while. He did not know what to do.

“Sucherita, what happened?  Why did you shriek?  Did you fall?” cried on old woman from inside.  The woman was very weak and sick, not at all in a condition to get up from bed to which she was confined.

“I didn’t fall, Kakki” said Sucherita.

“Who has come?  I heard a voice out there.”

“I don’t know. Anyway, what did the doctor tell you?  Did he not instruct you not to bother about small things. Relax and sleep?”

“Has he come for Ravi?” the old woman asked without caring for Sucherita’s outburst.

“For who else?  Who will ask for you and me every now and then like this?”

“Sago crunches have been spread out for drying in the backyard. Did you collect them suchi?”

“My goodness, I forgot all about them.” So saying the girl ran into the backyard.

Sago crunches. Every one like them in the family, particularly brother Ravi. The fried sago crunches are munched off in a minite served hot, fresh from the pan. That day Sucherita work up early in the morning and prepared them. She spread them on a cloth in the backyard, wondering whether they could be eaten at all as they were wet.

“What happened to your intelligence?  Shouldn’t you attend to them first when it starts drizzling?”  Kakki shouted from inside.

“I ran up the terrace to save the clothes from getting soaked in rain.”

“Ravi was asking you not to open a laundry.  You wanted to wash  all the clothes. After all, you returned to this place last night”.

“So I didn’t listen to him. That is your argument. You always support him because he is a boy. Every since I set foot into this house for the holidays, the bed covers, the sheets, the pants, the shirts etc. all soiled and smelling, made me mad. If he cannot was them himself, he could call the dhoubi once in ten days.”

“He cares little about the clothes. He lives with his friends in a different world.  If urgently needed, he puts them to dry-wash” said Raji Kakki.

Suddenly a noise was heard, of something breaking. Sucherita jumped & ran in.

“Alas! What is it that broke?” asked Kakki anxiously.

It is the water glass. I put in on the table. It is the wind.  Oh, my! the ink bottle also fell on brother’s papers and spoiled them.”

There was a knock at the door. Sucherita ran to the door expecting her brother.

It was not Ravi.  It was the same tall young man.

“Do you know when Ravi comes home?” he asked.

“I don’t know” she said & tried to shut the door. He held the door firmly and stopped her.

“Did he leave any message for me?”

“He didn’t.” She was angry that he held the door firm.  She grew wild at him. A moment later he let go the door. In the meanwhile a cat mewed.

“Sucherita, see that the cat doesn’t touch the milk. If we drink the milk tasted by a cat, we will suffer from T.B.  That is what people say”  cried Kakki from her bed.

Sucherita turned back and dashed into the kitchen like an arrow.

“Cursed cat! Dirty cat! It must be killed. Last night it drank all the milk.” There was a crashing noise.

“Oh god!  What is that noise again? Cried Kakki.

“I threw the wooden papad roller at the cat, Kakki”, said Sucherita.  The cat jumped into the window, stretched its body smoothly, stood there for a moment and ran off.

“He escaped death narrowly” said Sucherta.

“Oh my god! Do you want to kill it?  There is no harm if a little milk is lost. The sin of killing a cat cannot be washed off”.

“Nonsence! Our elders would have said like that only to prevent the killing of cats. Every day goats, cocks, hens, fishes are being killed and eaten. Is that no sin? How can this be a sin?”  said Sucherita washing here hands.

“By the way, you didn’t tell me who came for Ravi. Who is he?”

“Some X.  Close your eyes and chant god’s name and sleep off.”

I am …….” Before he could complete Sucherita continued..

“Be with us for five minutes. You could even step in, peep in once and go away. I will win hundred rupees”.

Hemant remained silent.

 “Please! Don’t think of anything else! Say ‘Yes’ Don’t say ‘No’. Okay? Say ‘Yes’ please!”

“Okay!” Hemant said feebly after a while.

“Did I hear you correctly? Did you say Okay! Thank you very much. At what time would you come? She asked.

“Four thirty”. He put the phone down.

She took hold of her brother’s hand and said enthusiastically and told that Hemant was coming.

“Did he say so?” asked Ravi in disbelief.

“Yes, it is true!” Suchi.

Sudhakar was giving Kakki apple slices, helping himself with some when they returned.

Sucherita went close to him and said “Hai, shell down hundred rupees”.

“Is he coming?”

“Yes”

“To say that he would come is different from his coming. There is many a slip between the cup and the lip. Let his come. I will give the money then”.

It was four thirty. Hemant did not come. It was nearning five. There was no trace of Hemant.

“Take out the hundred rupee note, sister” said Sudhakar with a twinkle in his eye, teasingly.

Sucherita placed the cutlets in a plate. Also the fried sago crunches.

Ravi was hold his hands behind his back, pacing about very agitatedly.

Sucherita was presenting a bold face but uncertainty was pulling her spirits down. Sudha’s face was glowing with triumph.

It was almost five. Was he not coming? Were all her efforts going waste?

Then they heard the sound of a car.

Sudhakar ran out in disbelief.

Sucherita peeped out of the window with glee.

The white fiat car stopped at their house. He was coming out of the car. On seeing him Sucherita felt a joy which she had never experienced on seeing anyone, anywhere, before. The uncertainty which had made her feel heavy-hearted melted into thin air and she felt light.

“Sorry, Am I late?” so saying he walked in.

“NO” said Sudhakar with disappointment written large on his face.

Ravi who had reached Hemant by then, held both his hands and said “I did not think that you would ever step in again in our house. Suchi is a young girl. She has the habit of saying what strikes her mind. But she has a heart of gold. She holds my friends in greater respect and affection than me …” Ravi uttered the words with some difficulty.

“Hemant! We will scolded Sucherita until she realised her folly. She also felt very bad for hurting your feelings” said Sudhakar.

Sucherita entered the hall holding the plates with the eats, her head bent.

“Suchi! Ask Hemant’s pardon” said Sudhakar.

Sucherita looked at Hemant. The expression in her eyes were clearly reflecting her pain at hurting his feelings.

Hemant was confused. “What is all this about? I am not able to understand anything?”

“Your coming back to us speaks of your nobility of mind” said Sudhakar.

“Sudhakar! What is wrong with you? Are you off your mind?” Hemand said angrily.

“Kakki told me everything & whatever Sucherita said I felt very pained and sorry” said Ravi.

“What did Sucherita say?” asked Hemant with a quizzical look.

“That the house was made very untidy, that the oil smudges have disfigured the walls…”

“Well then, why should I feel pained? I didn’t do all that. But, what she said was correct…. If her words are put into practice, fellows like Sudhakar will be taught a lesson”.

Sudhakar and Ravi looked at each other.

“Then, were you not hurt by her words?” asked Sudhakar.

“Don’t be silly. Why should I feel hurt? I didn’t do such things”.

Then why did you not come to us all these days?” asked Ravi.

“I told you. I was busy. There are problems in our house-hold. We lost a law suit. We had to pay a large amount urgently. In addition we have a dispute with my sister’s husband.”

“It that true?” asked Ravi.

“It is all true! I could not talk about all these things into the telephone when mother was sitting by. I was just telling you I was busy. I did not think that you would interpret all this so foolishly.”

Sucherita was observing alternatively the expressions on the faces of Ravi and Sudhakar. Suddenly she stood by the side of Hemant and said “Mr. Hemant, scold them. Scold them well. Believe me, they almost killed me with their harsh words these four days. I couldn’t drink water, couldn’t have a wink of sleep. They created a hell of a time for me. These four days I didn’t eat food. They accused me of having said words which made you feel hurt and that’s why you stopped coming according to them”.

“I that so? Will such a small thing stop me from coming to your house? Does not our friendship mean more than this? Do we break off our friendship over such silly things? If I had hurt your sister’s feelings I would have asked her pardon. If she had hurt me, I would had told you directly.”

Sucherita moved closer to Hemant.

Pointing her finger at them both she said “Oh god! Their words pierced through me like arrows. I almost went mad. To add to all this brother wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t get up from that cot. He wouldn’t say ‘yes’, wouldn’t say ‘no’. To cap this all every one abused me.

“I decided to leave town and get away”

“Goodness gracious! Was there so much hubub?”

“Thank you a lot! Very many thanks. Believe me. You saved me by coming to our house today” said Sucherita with relief.

“Be seated, Hemant” said Ravi.

When Hemant sat on one of the chairs, Sucherita personally handed him a plate with sweet-meats and cutlets. “I have prepared for you. It is true. Please believe me” she said.

“I shall get coffee in a minute” she ran into the kitchen.

By the time she returned, she saw all three laughing heartily. She felt happy when she saw Ravi laughing heartily. She handed a cup to Hemant and said “Special coffee for you. Ordinary coffee for the two who abused me”

“Give me what ever. I am hungry” said Sudhakar.

“Very good coffee. Thank you”, Hemant said.

“Sucherita prepared coffee that tastes like ‘Amrita’ for those she likes” said Sudhakar.

“Ah! Take out the hundred rupees” said Sucherita.

No, No, nothing doing. Hemant did not get angry at all. There is no bet when there is no anger.

“My Goodness! How clever of you!” Sucherita made peculiar grimace at which all laughed.

“I came now as Sucherita invited me. Or else I would have come some days later, perhaps. You said I wouldn’t be coming. I came. So she won the bet. Give her the money” said Hemant.

“My words upon my head! Sudhakar took out the hundred rupee note and offered it to Sucherita with a sad face.

“My dear man, you have to account for every paise to your uncle. How will you explain this loss?” asked Ravi looking at Sudhakar.

Sudhakar thought for a while and said “I will tell him my pocket was picked” at this everybody laughed.

“I made the bet for fun. I don’t want your money” said Sucherita returning the note.

“Sudhakar, if you take that money back” threatened Hemant, “We will not admit into our business fellows who have no principles”

Sudhakar quickly drew his hand back which he extended to Sucherita to receive the hundred rupee note when he heard the words of Hemant.

Ravi went to the cupboard and brought some papers.

Hemant looked into them briefly.

“Ravi, I will be busy for another week. We shall attend to this later” so saying he got up to go. Turning to Sucherita he said “Many thanks to you”

“I should thank you all the more” she said.

“Why?”

“Brother is happy. All his misgivings have been cleared. Unexpectedly I earned hundred rupees. So many, many thanks” Sucherita.

“No, No. I should be thanking you. For the last four days I have been vexed with family problems & worries. I came here, my head weighing a ton in weight. I felt like hitting any one that tried to talk to me. Strangely all that feelings of worry and vexation has gone. I feel so light and merry” For a moment. He remained silent and added, “perhaps the cutlets worked the magic.”

Sucherita’s face glowed with great joy at his compliment.

“So long” said Hemant and walked towards the Car. Sudhakar and Ravi followed him. Sucherita stood there with her hands around the pillar in the varandah.

Reversing the car, Hemant waved to Ravi and Sudhakar and also to Sucherita.

Ravi ran into the house, patted Sucherita gently on her head, held her by her shoulders and said Thank you dear little sister”.

“How come?”

“What is it that you are talking about?” asked Kakki from kitchen.

“Kakki, before you woke up from sleep a big incident took place”.

“Alas! What is it?”

“Don’t get disturbed, it was a happy incident. Hemant came.”

“It that so! Did he come? What did he say?”

“He came. He was all smiles and chatted happily. He ate the cutlets and drank the coffee prepared by Sucherita. Thanked her and left. Ravi, did you note what Hemant said? When he spent ten minutes here, he said he forgot all the weighty problems he had on mind. So we are of some use to him” said Sudhakar.

“Oh! Don’t talk rot” said Ravi angrily. Sucherita carefully put the hundred rupee note into her vanity bag.

Some hours passed by. The clock struck ten. There was silence in the house”.

Kakki and Ravi had fallen a sleep. The table light in Sucherita’s room was burning. She started writing a letter to her bosom friend Renu.

“Renu dear! Received your letter. You stand first in doing things fast. As you said, your letter was hereby the time I came. How are you passing your days? You say time hangs heavily on you. Here I haven’t got sufficient time to set things right in the house. Now and then I remember my ‘Renu Dear’ and feel jealous. You are lucky. Thousands of servants rush to you at your bidding to serve.

(To be Continued........)