Copyright © 2019, Dr. Mamata Dey All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast.

Published in India by Prowess Publishing, YRK Towers, Thadikara Swamy Koil St, Alandur, Chennai, Tamil Nadu 600016

eISBN: 978-81-944495-7-7

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication 1

The supposedly haunted house stood large and looming in the distance, silhouetted against the pale moonlight. Facing the narrow road that led to the only high school in the village, the house, atop a hill, orcharded trees bearing flowers and fruits that withered up on the branches, being untouched by human hands for many years. The boundary wall was not too high, but no school boy ever dared to jump over it and enter the grounds for fear of ghosts. It was rumoured that a tramp who had slept in the verandah one stormy night was found dead the next morning with blood oozing out of his tightly closed lips. Fruit trees of almost every variety was there in the garden and while mangoes, jackfruits and litchis hung lusciously from the branches in summer, red and yellow berries in winter tantalized way-farers. If anyone made bold to scale the wall and enter, others dissuaded him with such vehemence that he had to drop the idea. The poor Indian peasants who comprised almost three fourths of the inhabitants of the village, imagined all sorts of strange noises and voices emanating from the house not only at night but also in the day time. Nearby there was not any other house and even if there had been one, the inmates must have shifted long back.

Originally. the house had belonged to a wealthy zamindar who had settled in the city and rarely visited his ancestral home which was being looked after by his servants. His only son had settled and obtained an American citizenship and was perhaps too busy earning and spending money to claim ownership of the house. The Zamindar’s lone sister had been widowed at an early age and had no issue After the death of the Zamindar some twenty years ago, she had stayed in the house with a middle-aged man-servant to help her with her domestic chores. God knows what happened but one stormy morning the villagers found them dead in each others’ arm on the verandah of the house. It was a clear case of amour that ended in suicide. That was ten years back and after that the people said that they had seen the ghosts of the lady and the servant strolling hand in hand in the verandah of the upper storey. Perhaps they imagined it, but over the years the house came to acquire the name of a haunted house.

The village which we are talking about is in one of the South-Eastern coastal districts of India where innumerable little tributaries of rivers meander their way into the Bay of Bengal. Located on the banks of one such river, the village boasted of a pretty little Shiva temple at the top of a hill on one side, and a high school on the other. There were hardly any Government Offices and the few Government employees who stayed in the village, used to commute to the town by bus. The town was a good twenty five kilometers away. Beyond the river there was a thick wood of eucalyptus trees and beyond this small forest, one could glimpse a part of the Bay of Bengal in all its grand and shimmering beauty, nature laughing in full glory unspoiled by human touch, the wave lapping up the shores, like a little baby playing happily in his mother’s arms. Such beautiful places are easily detected by adventurous, inquisitive interfering human beings who soon change them into crowded noisy picnic spots. But thanks to the insignificance of the village, this place had remained undiscovered by outsiders for a long time and the natural charm of the village continued to remain virgin and unspoilt.

That day the whole village was bursting with the latest sensational news; an office-goer to the town had just heard that the house had been sold and the news had spread among the five thousand inhabitants of the village like wildfire. Who could have bought it ?, they wondered ! The American based son of the Zamindar had negotiated the deal with a not- so-old man, who had bought the house at a very low price. And it was heard that he was also going to stay there permanently. Well, well, this was news indeed ! In the market place speculations were rife as to whether the owner would be rid of the ghosts, or the ghosts would be rid of him.

“Do you know he is coming today?” The Gram Panchayat asked the headman on a fine morning as they were returning from a bath in the river after the completion of their morning ablutions. The headman who was a Brahmin did not reply but just kept on muttering some mantras, holding his sacred thread. After they had walked on for some time, he seemed to ponder over the matter, and replied “Yea, and we must welcome him with at least a garland of flowers. You see it’s just a form of courtesy. After all he’ll soon be like our family member for I hear he is staying here permanently. At least, we must be there at the bus stop to receive him”.

It was an insignificant stop by the road side. Usually few other people, other than the office-goers boarded or alighted the bus, which halted there just for minute or so. On that particular day, the villagers were already assembled there long before the bus arrived at half-past two. A not-so-very-thick garland had been woven and along with the headman of the village a few half-clothed children had also gathered there, their eyes wide with curiosity. On seeing the approaching bus. they stopped their animated conversation and waited for the bus to halt. A man alighted and the villagers held their breath in admiration, for he was strikingly handsome, dressed in milky spotless white dhoti and kameez. He could be of any age, between twenty six and forty five; they kept on guessing. Behind him stood an old man of about fifty five years of age, who looked around here and there to catch sight of any vehicle that could carry his master’s belongings to the house. The luggage comprised of a cot, a table, a sack containing few utensils a suitcase and a trunk .“Namaskar”, the headman greeted the stranger with folded hands and the others followed suit. The man reciprocated with a similar gesture, a smile lighting up his face. “We have gathered here to welcome you,” some one said “After all, now you are like a member of our own family. Your joys are our joys, your sorrows are our sorrows. Anyway, where are the other members of your family, your parents?” he queried.

“ He has none and he’s not yet married’’. The old man replied curtly, as he and the man got up on a rickshaw, while the puller picked up his belongings, and away they rode up to the house, leaving the villagers gaping behind them.

“A very disagreeable pair”, one of them broke the silence, “I daresay, typical city manners”.

“Of course not”! The headman retorted angrily, “my aunt and uncle live in the city and I’m sure there is not a more well-mannered, friendly and agreeable couple”. The crowd dispersed, rather disappointed. The villagers had hoped that the man and his servant would consult them and seek their advice in doing some sort of a ‘puja’ before entering the house, but nothing of that sort happened. As the man opened the gate of the house, it made a terrible creaking sound, for the gate had not been opened for years and rust had gathered on it. Master and servant immediately set about cleaning the house. The water of the well looked black and dirty, but it would do for washing the floor. After a hard labour of three hours of washing and mopping water off from floor, the rooms looked quite clean.

“Aren’t you feeling hungry, Sir”?, asked Prasad “I’m famished,” Baba said laughing, as a row of sparkling white teeth flashed out. “But first, I must sit down for meditation”.

He went away to an inner apartment while the servant hurried off to buy some grocery from a nearby shop. “No ghosts there ?” The shopkeeper asked, “Not at all, we don’t believe in ghosts and that is why we bought the house,” Prasadda said in a matter- of- fact manner. When he reached home, his master was still in meditation. The sun was setting and a strange calm had descended on the village. He lit the gas stove and within half an hour, a meal of rice, dal and boiled potatoes had been pressure cooked. Baba’s meditation was over and both of them sat down to eat. Since both of them were awfully hungry, the meal though consisting of only mixture, or “Khicddi” of three items, tasted like ambrosia. And soon the beds were made, and both of them retired to a sound sleep.

In the morning, a local youth called upon them. “Namaskar”, he said most reverentially, with folded hands, “we are staging a ‘jatra’ today, and we want some donation”.

Anand Babu (Baba), as the genttleman was called, handed him a twenty rupee note. The lanky youth lingered on to have some more friendly conversation.

“You must come to the ‘jatra’, tonight, if not we’ll mind it”. He said exuberantly, “Our master doesn’t go any where”, Prasadda said as Baba went indoors.

“Can’t he speak?” the youth studied Prasadda. “Are you his spokesman? Well, I’m sure if he retains his disagreeable nature, he cannot remain for long in this village”. He walked away angrily.

Soon word spread around the village that Anand Babu was a proud man, a very disagreeable person. For almost a week he was the topic of discussion in every home and shop. “What does he do for a living?” “Doesn’t he ever talk or come out of his house?” “No, he was seen going to the town by bus today.” “Is he dumb?” What sort of prayer does he do for hours”, “from where does he get money?” “is he himself a ghost ?” These were some of the questions which bothered the villagers, providing food for gossip. And just as waves which come and go giving place to fresh waves gossip about this man gradually died down giving place to newer discussions. 2

Every day, as Maya walked to and fro from school, she watched a pair of eyes watching her intently from the verandah of the haunted house. She had just stepped into her twelfth year and the upsurge of romantic thought and feelings had not yet invaded and flooded her mind. Why should that man stare at me like this? She kept wondering. ‘She did not consider herself beautiful for her friends never told her so. In fact, she was just fair and plain-looking. with straight, black hair upto her shoulders.

It was a day in the month of April. Though the day had started with bright sunshine, all of a sudden, dark, menacing clouds began to hover in the sky from nowhere. But then, rain like death, is unpredictable. It may come any moment.

“Hurry up !” The school girls shouted to each other, for it was time to return home. Most of them did not like to get wet in the rain, but some, like Maya, loved to play in small puddles of water, splashing water around with their legs. Maya loved to feel the rain water trickling down her face, and added to that there would be an extra, mother-made, steaming hot cup of tea which was a treat in such rare occasions.

“I’ll go later”, she said. After some time it drizzled, and clutching her school bag tightly under her arm, she walked home. The pace of the shower was increasing rapidly and soon it began to rain in sheets. The raindrops pricked her skin like needles, and when she was near the haunted house, she felt frightened. Soon the heavy rain walled before her and her vision was completely blurred. Impulsively, she turned towards the gate of the haunted house and ran to the verandah. She was almost near to tears. She regretted not having gone home earlier with her friends. Oh, how she longed to be at home and feel the warm, comforting embrace of her mother! Suddenly, the door swung open from behind and a voice spoke to her. “O, it’s you; come in come in !” For a moment she was taken aback, but when she turned around she was greeted with the most, affectionate smile she had ever seen. “Do come in. You are trembling with cold, and this hot cup of tea will do you good”.

Maya went in, hesitatingly and the man beckoned to her to sit in a chair, He offered her a cup of tea “No, I don’t drink tea at all” ,she lied for courtesy’s sake.

“You really don’t? I think little children love tea, particularly in this weather”. He smiled knowingly. By now, Maya could no longer resist her desire to drink tea. She took it from his hands and started sipping it. He also brought some biscuits and a little mixture in a plate and said. “Eat it. Maya, you must be hungry”. Maya was surprised that he knew her name.

“How did you know my name, Sir ?”

“I’ve heard your friends calling you sometimes while passing by my house. And by the way, don’t call me Sir. Please, I’m not your teacher. I’m just your friend” he said laughing.

“My friend! How can you be my friend? You are so much older to me.” Maya was in peals of laughter, she had already overcome her shyness and fears. “Any way, what shall I call you then ?”

“Er………Call me Baba, if you like.”

Again she laughed “But you are not my father. I used to address my father as ‘Baba’, but now a days I call him “Papa”.

“Well, my name is “Baba” and didn’t I tell you, we are friends. And it’s natural that, one must call one’s friend by name”.

Maya found the logic quite reasonable but she still could not understand how one so much older to her could be her friend. Suddenly, she realized she had to go home, and looking out, she saw that the shower had slowed down to a mere drizzle. “Here’s an umbrella. Take it.” Baba held out an umbrella and opened it. “But………” .Maya faltered. “You can give it back to me while going to school tomorrow, I won’t need it today.” Again he smiled affectionately and within that moment, she felt as if she had known him for years.

When Maya reached home, she saw her mother waiting anxiously near the door, for it was already beginning to get dark. On seeing Maya, her face lighted up with relief ,“Gosh Maya! You’re fully wet, I was beginning to get worried.” Please dear, take off your muddy shoes on the door step or, you’ll make the whole place dirty”. She said as she went indoors to lay out Maya’s supper.

“Mama, I won’t eat anything”

“But why? Aren’t you hungry ?”

“I have just had some tea and mixture in Baba’s house”.

“Baba? who’s Baba,” her mother looked surprised.

Maya smiled “ Mama, he’s the owner of that haunted house. And he’s such a nice man, too”.

“Don’t you go being friendly with strange people.” Her mother warned. “He seems to be proud and rather odd. I hear”. Maya was in a mood to narrate the details of the wonderful encounter, but her mother had no time or inclination to listen to the friendly babble of a school girl, There were several household chores left undone, like cleaning the utensils and sweeping the floor. She would then have a bath just before the evening prayers and prepare the night meal. These thoughts preoccupied her mind and very often, she wished there had been a maid servant to help her. And therefore the happenings in her little daughter’s life did not interest her at all.

That evening, Maya could not concentrate on her lessons. The strange and unusual meeting with Baba kept flashing in her mind’s eye repeatedly, and try as hard as she could, she just could not memorize the summary of the poem. Her eyes were glued to her notes, but her thoughts kept reverting to Baba’s affectionate smile. Till then, no man had ever looked at her twice, though she had heard her attractive and beautiful friends say that this or that person was staring at them. This beautiful experience gave her a strange thrill, and she could not discard it easily from her mind.

The next morning her friends called her at the gate, while going to school. Every day, they walked in groups, chatting away merrily, so that the one and half kilometers they traversed seemed to them a little more than two or three yards. Maya gulped down her brunch hurriedly at ten O’clock and joined them. She realized that strangely enough, thoughts about Baba no longer disturbed her.

While walking home from school at half past four, she looked across the gate of the house and saw Baba weeding out some plants from his garden. He looked up and his eyes fell on her, ‘O Maya; do come in”, he called.

Maya stood still for a moment, while her friends walked on. Then she went in. Apprehending that Baba would ask about the umbrella, she said apologetically. “Baba, I’m sorry, that I did not bring your umbrella today. Actually, I completely forgot about it. I’ll bring it tomorrow”.

“O never mind that. I did not call you to ask about the umbrella. In fact, I’ve kept something nice for you.”

Maya’s face lit up “What’s it ?” She asked excitedly.

“Just a sweet bar of Cadbury chocolate, my dear.” Baba said and laughed.

“O’ how nice.” And then immediately Maya’s face fell. “But I’m not supposed to take things from you”.

“But why ?”

“My parents say I must not take things from strangers.”

“But I’m not really a stranger to you, am I? Have’nt we already become friends since yesterday ?” And then he smiled. And the smile was so full of affection and friendliness that all her apprehensions vanished.

Maya took the packet from his hand, and opening it started nibbling it right away. A Cadbury chocolate was a rare treat in the sixties, for it was too expensive for her parents to afford. After she had finished it, she said, “Baba, I’m going” and got up.

“Won’t you stay a bit longer ?”

“Why, Baba ?”

“Just like that, I mean, to give me company”, He said spontaneously.

“But my friends will be waiting for me to play with them. You see Baba, I love to play”.

“You love to play, but don’t you love me ?” Baba asked, like a true friend .

‘Of course, I like you”. Maya was too young to differentiate between ‘like’ and ‘love’: “Anyway Baba, I’ll come tomorrow”, she said, and ran out, her school bag hanging from her left shoulder. Baba looked at her receding figure for a long time till her figure became smaller and smaller, and then his eyes brimmed over with tears and he went indoors, trying to suppress his emotions. She was a living image of his little sister whom he had tended and nursed since she was a baby, and who was no longer alive in this world.

After their play time was over, Maya ran home, washed her hands and feet, sang her evening prayers, drank a glass of milk, and retired to the single room upstairs to study. Her half-yearly exams were near at hand and she realized she had to study hard to retain her position as one of the toppers in the class. Usually, the room was shared by her only brother, who was older to her, but these days, he was busy cycling from one tutor to another, attending tuition classes, for his matriculation exams was round the corner. While trying to memorize some of the answers, Maya’s mind wandered away to Baba’s affectionate words, quite against her wishes. She realized that while playing not even once did she think of Baba, but while studying, thoughts about Baba flooded her mind and she could not suppress them. She wondered why amongst all her classmates and other girls, she had been singled out by Baba as his friend. Soon, tiredness and sleep overcame her and she fell fast asleep in that sitting posture, with one hand on the table, and the other arm, across it.

Usually while studying, Maya ran down occasionally for peanuts to munch or a biscuit to nibble. But for the last two days, her mother noticed that the hurried patter of her feet down the stairs was missing. All the better, she thought, must be studying hard for her exams. Maya’s father returned home late from the office as usual, but on that day, he was in a light-hearted mood to chat with his little daughter. He loved his little daughter a lot but regretted the fact the he had not enough time or money to spare for her. Being a lower division clerk in the board office, his salary was meagre and since he was honest, he never accepted bribe for any small favors done to anyone. He had to commute daily to the town and this took up most of his time. From morning eight to evening eight O’clock, he was out, and when he came back, at times even at half past eight, he’d be too tired to spend time with his daughter, much as he would like to.

As he trudged up stairs to call Maya to dinner, love spurted out of his heart as he saw her lying so helplessly with her hand resting on the table. He didn’t have the heart to disturb her sleep, nevertheless, she was to have her dinner. Meanwhile, his wife was shouting at the top of her voice. “Maya, Maya, do come down at once to eat.”

He shook Maya gently. She woke up with a start. “O Papa, it’s you”! and then she responded to her mother’s calls. “Okay, Mama I’m coming down”.

“You must not study so hard, my dear, you’ll only make yourself sick”, her father said .-

“But Papa, my exams are approaching”. She replied, as both of them came down the stairs.

“Never mind the exams, first health and then everything else, right”. Her father was in a jocular mood that night and both of them laughed. Then they sat down to have their paltry dinner consisting of steaming hot rice and a vegetable stew laid out on two platters.

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Baba’s eyes lit up on seeing her, and he beckoned to her to go indoors. She went in and sat on the blank cot without a bed, and had hardly sat for five minutes when Baba entered. “Yesterday I came, but you were discussing something with your friends in the courtyard, and I didn’t like to disturb you, so I went away”, Maya said petulantly “Baba, what were you telling them ?” She asked inquisitively.

“O, that”, he smiled, “I was just teaching them some methods of meditating”.

“Meditating on whom ?”

“Why, of course on God.”

“Then Baba, teach me how to meditate”.

There was real earnestness on her face and for a moment, Baba almost felt like giving into her child-like plea. But then, he laughed and said, “O Maya, you’re too young still. Perhaps, when you grow up one day, I’ll teach you”. There was a far-away and wistful look in his eyes and Maya couldn’t understand why he became so transported. She now broached the question which had long been puzzling her. “Baba why is it that you haven’t developed any acquaintances or friends among the villagers. Don’t you like them ?” It was a very personal question, but she was too naive to distinguish between personal and impersonal.

Baba laughed .“You sound like a journalist interviewing me. Well, my dear, the fact is that I find them very interfering and a real menace. Their intentions may be good, but once you become friendly with them, they disturb you at every odd hour and claim a right to demand anything from you, from rice and curry to even money and clothes”.

“But then Baba, how is it that you’ve become friendly with me? I’m also a village girl”. Maya said, surprised. Baba’s eyes grew misty once again. It seemed to carry that distant far -away look. He looked through the window as though he was seeing right into the past.

“You know, Maya, I had a little sister. She was exactly like you in appearance and speech. I tended her. nursed her, cared for her ever since she was born, for my mother died at childbirth. My father died soon after of heart attack, and I was left alone to bring up this child in this cruel and harsh world. She became my sole possession during these twelve years, and I did not even take up a job or get married just to bring her up. I was so happy with her. She died last year, Maya, leaving me entirely alone, leaving me entirely alone”.

He broke down and started sobbing violently like a child, kneeling on the floor, and putting his hands on his face.

Maya was fully confused by such a reaction, which she had never expected. She went closer to him, and putting her hands on his shoulders, she said in a voice full of apology. “Baba I’m sorry, I hurt you, please forgive me.”

The sobs died slowly. Dark and threatening clouds seemed to hover about and then pile up in the sky like a mountain. Eyes still wet, and a pale face, he said “Maya, you ought to go home now, for soon it will rain”. Maya walked out quietly. Inwardly, she cursed herself for evoking such painful memories. No stranger had ever shown so much familiarity with her, and she did not want to part with this. Already she was beginning to feel a great sense of pleasure in his company.

As time passed, Maya’s visits become more and more frequent and then it became a daily routine. While returning from school she would drop in at Baba’s house, chat with him for about half an hour or so, eat some biscuits or papads, and then go home. Baba cherished these few precious moments, for it seemed to him as though his little sister had come back to him once again, his sister whom he loved so much. But it did not stop the wagging of tongues of the villagers who were steeped in cheap middle-class morality. Their dislike of him which was due to his indifferent attitude towards them, worsened. Some even had misgivings against him because he had rejected their marriage proposals for they saw in him a very eligible bachelor in spite of his age. “You see, what a rascal he is, enticing a small girl who has not even matured. Talking with her for hours together. I’m sure he’s a pimp who’ll soon sell her soon in the city as a prostitute”. One of them said sneeringly.

The elderly ladies were even more vehement and derogatory in their sarcastic comments. They lashed out their bitter tongue and made mountains out of mole hills of this seemingly innocent and child-like relationship. Maya became their target of discussion every evening while they went collectively to shit in the easing grounds near the river banks. The odour of their shit, combined with the putrid smell of the cow dung, polluted their minds even more than it did to their bodies, and aroused their vulgar instinct of indulging in slander and calumny against others.

“I did not know she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And that too, at such a young age. Sure to be a pros when she grows up”.

Her classmates were curious to know about Baba .They were envious of her, but at the same time, suspicious too. Maya deliberately tried to be evasive just to retain that air of mystery around herself. One of them remonstrated one summer day in school.

“Maya, you are very selfish”.

“Why ?” asked Maya, surprised;

“You eat up all those ripe litchis and guavas and never even think of bringing some for us”.

“Then come with me today’. Maya quipped She didn’t like to be called selfish. “You can eat to your heart’s content”.

That day, some of the girls went with Maya to Baba’s house but it was evident from Baba’s behavior that he didn’t like the idea of so many girls encroaching upon his territory. While plucking the guavas and litchis, some of them even broke the branches. And what a lot of noise they made! They shouted, quarreled, giggled, gossiped and joked in between mouthfuls of ripe fruits, and even took home as much as possible. Baba was displeased, and he expressed his displeasure to Maya very tenderly so as not to hurt her.

“Maya, my dear, you shouldn’t bring your friends anymore. They’ll really spoil our idyllic peace. Isn’t it ?” Maya nodded her head thoughtfully and decided she would never bring them again.

The sun was just setting and the sky was suffused with a beautiful rich golden-red light, like a flower in bloom. Maya was in high spirits as she entered home. Baba had told her a wonderful story after her friends had gone, and she had listened to him with rapt attention. As she hopped gaily towards the kitchen to demand her food, her mother who was washing the utensils, charged at her like a ferocious lion.

“Maya”! she roared “It seems you are going to that man’s house every day .It’s so shameful, really”.

“But mama, he’s a nice man and loves me as a brother would love his sister”.

“Stop arguing”, Mama’s voice had lowered. “Henceforth, I must not hear from anyone that you’ve gone there again.” Maya’s father, who was on casual leave from his office that day, was reading a newspaper. He looked up and addressed his wife.

“Ketaki, let her go. I don’t see any harm in it. He’s a nice gentleman and that too, old enough to be her father. Can’t imagine why people are so narrow-minded and stupid.” He had noticed that of late, his little daughter had become a cheerful and blithe little thing instead of the moody and lonely girl that she was in the past. She was also improving in her lessons.

“Now I see why she doesn’t obey me ! You only spoil her and give her too much indulgence”. Ketaki retorted back at her husband.

Maya’s father sighed and kept the paper on the table and then walked out for an evening stroll, for he knew if he stayed any longer, a heated argument would follow, which inevitably led to a quarrel. His wife would then heap upon him all the curses for her misfortune, lack of money, lack of a servant, negligence in performing his duties, etc. He was of a peaceful temperament and generally bore all those accusations stoically.

Maya ran upstairs to prepare for her exams. She was surprised that thoughts about Baba no longer hindered her concentration on studies. She was assured of his love for her, and this fact had awakened fresh avenues of hope in her mind. She dreamed of a future when she would be with Baba always and she was intelligent enough to realize that to achieve this, she had to stand on her own feet. Therefore of late, she had become very ambitious and was studying hard knowing fully well that this was on age of competition. 4

One day, Baba and Maya went out for a walk on the river bank. This was the first time both of them had gone out together and that too, only on Maya’s insistence, to enjoy a picnic. Baba had brought with him a packet of sliced bread and six large-sized bananas, while Maya had stolen out some biscuits and a small packet of laddoos from the kitchen store. By and by they came across an isolated rock jutting out forward and overlooking the river.

“Baba, I’m feeling hungry”, Maya said, running forward to sit on the rock. Baba sat down too, and both of them spread out their goodies on the rock and began to eat silently. “Baba, since how long have I known you?” “Maya questioned.

“Er…… I think it’s about a year or so”. Baba replied.

“Gosh, how quickly time flies!.” Maya exclaimed “Perhaps like a rocket,” she laughed, glad that she had ejaculated an appropriate simile.

Baba smiled. “Time never flies, my dear, in fact, it doesn’t even pass at all”.

“How is it, Baba!” Maya argued. “Aren’t we getting older?”

“Our time passes”, Baba reasoned. “But not time in general, Time is always there. Even if this whole world perishes, time would still be there. You see time and space are eternal and infinite and have no beginning or end”.

Maya just listened, pretending to understand, but not really getting at the depth of it. Sometimes, she let Baba ramble off into philosophical discourses, listening and admiring his soft, yet rich golden voice, though not understanding a word of it. Now, she just stared out at the sandy expanse of some parts of the river. In other parts, the water was calm and placid, very still, like the face of a man who just died. The sun was setting and its dying rays caressed the smooth surface of the river. Faraway a lonely boat leant across the river bank, while nearby, some strollers were in a hurry to get back home, for it would soon be dark.

“Let’s go, Maya”, Baba said, breaking the silence “for it’s getting late”.

Maya looked at him. She felt a strong affection for him which was very near to love. She did not know if this was love. But it was clear to her as day light that she felt very happy in his presence. She was aware of a strange intimacy with him, but she knew it was beset with perils, for already, the whole village was gossiping about their strange friendship.

Baba and Maya walked on in silence not touching each other, attracting the gaze of suspicious villagers whose mind wallowed in low- class morality. At the turning which led to his house, Maya felt sad to part from him. But she took it in her stride, as though parting was an insignificant occurrence. Her heart always yearned for his company but she never wanted to admit this fact, to herself. She tried her best to avoid thinking of him, but he crept unconsciously into her mind though very often when she was not studying, and disturbed her with a strange kind of thrill. She had always intended her relationship with Baba to be an easy and casual friendship but now she realized it had crossed the borders of friendship and entered into the domain of love. As for his feelings for her she could not fathom why it never crossed the borders of affection.

On reaching home, she found her mother fuming with anger. “Maya” she shouted angrily “what’s this I hear. You have been roaming about with that man today. O, what shall I do!” sitting on the kitchen steps, putting her hands on her face, she almost wept bewailing her lot. “My daughter has gone astray, and I’ve become the victim of bitter comments, O ! what shall I do?”

“Mama, don’t cry like that”. Maya was angry because her illusory world of romance with Baba, which she had dreamed of, had shattered, with painful reality facing her at every nook and corner. Nevertheless she ran forward to her mother and tried to console her, “Mama, don’t be so upset, he’s not so bad after all; people are really cruel to say such stupid things.”

Maya was shocked when her mother turned towards her, eyes red with anger and hatred and then pulling her hair forward slapped her hard on the cheeks. Tears of pain shot up into Maya’s eyes. “You sly deceitful thing. Disgracing your parents like this after all we have done for you”. She hit Maya hard on the back again. “O, how I wish you had died on the day you were born. Then I wouldn’t have to hear such horrible things about you.”

Her son had just sauntered in then and was witnessing the scene. “Yes, Mama beat her well. She deserves a good thrashing”. He said cruelly. His classmates had been talking about his peculiar relationship between his sister and that man and he didn’t much relish the idea of it.

Maya went upstairs and wept silently. All the dream world which she had built around herself and Baba came crumbling down before her like on old building dilapidating into ruins. She was frightened of her mother and knew well enough that her mother could go to any extent in punishing her in this matter. She decided that for some days, she would not meet Baba at all.

At night Maya would not come down to have dinner. Her mother went about doing her usual chores with a grim face. There was a deathly silence in the house. Her father came to know of this matter and went upstairs to coax Maya to come down to eat. Maya would not budge. Her mother had never beaten her like this and she felt sad because her mother no longer loved her. She could not bear to lose her mother’s protective warmth and affection. That evening her mother too regretted the fact that she had beaten her daughter so hard, in a fit of anger. The thought of her little and only daughter starving in hunger evoked all the maternity in her and when Maya did not come down for a long time, she herself went up, deciding to make it up with Maya and advise her well.

“ Maya dear, I’m so sorry I beat you, “Mama said. She pulled Maya close, up to her, and resting her head on her lap, she patted and stroked her gently, tenderly kissing her pale yellow checks. On being reassured of her mother’s love the tears which Maya had suppressed for so long burst out of her eye dams and flooded her cheeks.

“O’ Mama, I really didn’t mean to hurt you and Papa, I’m so sorry. Mama, I promise I’ll never go there again”. She said haltingly in between violent sobs. After some time, mother and daughter came down to have dinner together and her mother even fed Maya with her own hand that day. 5

The next day Maya was silent and mostly kept to herself at school. While returning home she glanced towards Baba’s house and saw that the gate was locked. “Probably he’s gone to the city”. She thought. She thanked God that he wasn’t there or else he would have called her in and it would have been difficult for her to make excuses.

On reaching home she found her mother being extraordinarily kind and nice to her.” Maya, I’ve been waiting for you so that we can have lunch together. Now take off your uniform, wash your hands and come to the kitchen quickly, I’m feeling hungry”,

“Mama, I am not hungry today”, Maya said, as she changed her uniform and slipped on to a home wear.

“Why, dear? Did you eat puchkas in school?”

No Mama, I’m not feeling well”.

“Well, eat just a bit; it’s not proper to have an empty stomach. Now don’t fuss, come along and be a good girl.” She said a bit sternly. Maya sat down to eat most grudgingly. Hardly had she taken a mouthful than nausea overcame her and she felt like vomiting. She immediately ran to the drain and brought out that morsel.

Her mother was already beginning to feel worried. She felt Maya’s forehead and anxiety became writ on her face. Maya’s arms felt hot on her sweaty palms and she realized that Maya had fever. “Just go and lie on the bed”. Mama said truly worried, “I’m coming with a glass of milk and some biscuits.” While taking milk for her daughter several thoughts criss- crossed in Mama’s mind. ‘Did she fall sick because of the cruel words and a heavy thrashing ?” She felt guilty and remorseful. But then, to be optimistic. “O well, it must be a passing flu”, ,she thought. That evening on returning from office and learning from his wife that Maya was sick, Maya’s father straightaway went to her and saw that she was asleep. He touched her and knew that she had high fever. Going immediately to the local medicine shop he bought some antibiotics, pills and painkiller tablets and came and sat beside her. Just then, Maya opened her eyes. “O Papa, it’s you”, she felt glad to see him. Her eyes were sunken and hollow. She gulped down the medicine along with a glass of water.

“Have you eaten anything. Maya”? Her father was truly concerned.

“Only a cup of milk and two biscuits” ,Maya replied feebly.

“Won’t you like to eat some fruits like apples and grapes?”

“Yes. Papa. Please, I’d love to”. Maya felt better and stepping down from the cot. she went to the kitchen to see what her mother was doing.

“Maya, please don’t romp about the house like this. Go and take as much rest as possible. You’ll get well tomorrow”. Her mother said, sure that Maya’s fever was due to common cold and that she’d be running and playing about the next day.

“But Mama. I dont want to sleep alone, come and sit beside me”. Maya pulled the ends of her mother’s sari. “Mama, please come”.

Her mother wanted to push away Maya’s hands, for the cooking had to be completed, but then she understood that being sick were the moments when a child demanded a mother’s warm company and protective embrace. So she blew off the flames of the stove, put down the half-cooked curry, and went with Maya to lie down beside her. Soon, mother and daughter were fast asleep. Maya’s father, on seeing the meal undone, finally cooked the meal, and then woke up his wife to have dinner with himself and his son.

Maya’s condition deteriorated day by day. Inspite of all the pills and injections administered to her, the fever did not subside. Her father called in the local doctor several times and he kept changing his medicines, sometimes advising tablets which would do for typhoid, and at times administering doses of amphetamines. But it seemed as though the fever just would not go. It intensified day by day. At times Maya’s temperature shot up to 104°F but on gulping paracetamol tablets, it lessened again. Her father took samples of her urine, blood and stool, to be examined in the city. Malaria protozoaons were found to be present in her blood. Once again the doctor administered pills and medicines, and even after swallowing them at regular intervals her fever just came and went. Her appetite had decreased terribly, and she no longer ate even her favorite fruits or ‘Kheer’,

One evening, after fifteen days of fever, she was sitting on the verandah in an armchair, looking out on the road, when some of her girl- classmates came in and on seeing her, they exclaimed, surprised.

“Why Maya, you look so thin and pale. What do the doctors say ?”

“Its Malaria” Maya’s mother said. Looking at Maya, her heart sank within her. when she saw Maya looking deathly pale, a ghostly shadow of her former self. She and her husband too ate less these days. She didn’t even feel like cooking for her son either. In a way. she blamed herself for Maya’s ailment. Had she not beaten or scolded Maya that day, she’d never have been sick. And then all her wrath was directed towards Baba and it bred a terrible hatred for him in her heart. 6

One day. Baba saw Maya’s father returning from the market and asked if Maya was better. “No” her father shook his head sadly. “I think I’ll take her to the town tomorrow and show her to some specialists. The problem is that I’ve already taken five days continuous leave and I wonder if there is more.”

“ Well, can I go and just see my little Maya?” Baba asked nervously.

“O sure”. Baba felt a deep yearning within his heart to sit near her, hold her little hands reassuringly and then comfort her. Immediately, he bought two packets of cream biscuits and a 1kg of apples, and holding these in a bag, he wended his way towards Maya’s house.

He had just opened the gate of the house and walked a few steps, when he was stunned to hear abuses showered on him by Maya’s mother.

“Stop there ! Don’t you ever enter into my house”, she shouted .“It’s because of you that Maya fell sick, and now she isn’t even recovering.”

Maya’s father rushed out of the sitting room and scolded his wife. “Now Ketaki, behave yourself and shut up your mouth”, he thundered. And then, running to Baba, he apologized. “I’m sorry. Anand Baba.” he said. “Actually, she’s terribly worried about Maya, and this has made her a mental and nervous wreck. Please don’t mind and do come in”. He pulled Baba’s hand.

“No”, Baba smiled. “You needn’t be so apologetic. Ghoshal Babu, I can understand a mother’s heart. Anyway, I’ve brought these apples and biscuits for Maya. Kindly accept them” .he said, handing over the bag to her father. And then Baba went away.

When her Papa came to see her that evening Maya’s temperature was 102°F, “Papa, why was mama shouting like that? Was it because Baba had come to see me?” Maya asked weakly, a half happy smile lighting up her pale and sunken face.

“Yes Maya, look, he had brought biscuits and apples for you.” They were kept beside her on the bed.

She could not talk further. A splitting headache made her face writhe in pain and her father felt worried. “Something happening in your head ?” he asked tenderly, the note of anxiety ringing in his voice. “Papa, my head is aching awfully, please call Mama. I want her to sit beside me.” She spoke softly and haltingly.

That night, Maya just tossed about this way and that on the bed softly moaning in pain. Her temperature shot up to 104°F. and then, she just shut her eyes and lay in bed, as if in coma. Her mother frantically prayed to God as she repeatedly sponged her daughter with cold water and administered high doses of powerful paracetamol tablets to lower down the temperature. Her father hastened to and fro from the local doctor, who did not like to be disturbed in the middle of the night, and haphazardly changed the medicines administered to Maya. While all the villagers were fast asleep dreaming beautiful and ugly dreams after eating a satisfying dinner, Maya’s parents and brother did not sleep a wink that night. They hadn’t eaten their dinner, and the cooked food remained untouched and rotting in the kitchen . A strong, cold wind swept across the village the whole night, making a roaring noise, accompained by a continuos slow drizzle. A hundred dogs whined and growled miserably, while an owl hooted somewhere, and greater fear crept in to the hearts of Maya’s parents as they thought these whines and hoots to be ominous. As Maya lay on the bed, a thin lifeless body breathing rapidly, and her mother sitting beside her, applying wads of cold watered cloth on her forehead, her father paced up and down the room his hands folded, praying “O God,, please save my Maya”.

Dawn blushed on the eastern sky, and Ghoshal Babu took his wife’s ornament to the goldsmith, intending to pawn it to bring some thousands and rush Maya to a city hospital in a Taxi. He was returning home, dejected and terribly down cast when he saw Baba approaching him. Baba was returning from seeing off one of his special friends at the bus stop. “How’s Maya, Ghoshal Babu?” he asked anxiously.

“She’s quite serious, I have to take her to the city but I don’t know how. I don’t have a single paisa and even the goldsmith did not lend me any. I don’t know what to do”. He kept repeating and nodding his head like a man at his wit’s end.

“Ghoshal Babu”. Baba said, a worried and concerned expression fitting across his face. “Remain standing here and I’m coming with the cash within minutes.” Maya’s father stared at him. His face brightening up, he clasped both the hands of Baba and said in a voice choked with emotion.

“O Anand Babu. How can I ever repay your kindness. I promise you I’ll repay your money as soon as I get back my GPF money”.

“You needn’t worry about repaying me”. Baba said reassuringly, “Let me go and bring the money”. And then he hurried off.

The minutes ticked by, and fifteen minutes seemed hours to Maya’s father. Baba handed him over the ten thousand rupees and said “Get ready immediately. I’m arranging a taxi”,

The whole day, Baba neither ate nor slept. He sent Prassadda to Maya’s house in the afternoon for some information, but Prasadda came back shortly afterwards saying the house was locked. Baba sent him again in the evening and night but still the house was locked . Throughout the night Baba sat in deep meditation and at times, with tears streaming down his face, he begged of the Almighty “O God, keep my Maya alive, you snatched away one sister of mine, keep this one alive, please dear God”. And then he sat up right, cross-legged, going off into bouts of transcendental meditation. Prasadda did not disturb him, well acquainted with Baba’s strange whims and ways.

The next morning at about 10 O clock. Baba himself went to Ghoshal Babu’s house and was glad that the door was unlocked. He slipped in and saw Maya’s brother. “Well, how’s Maya?” He asked her brother. “She remained in a coma throughout the day. Very powerful injections were administered and medicines were given. In the evening, she regained consciousness”. Maya’s brother said.

“I hope she’s better today’. Baba said intending to elicit some more information. He never liked her brother much and wondered how he could be such a disagreeable fellow when compared to his sister’s sweet and friendly ways.

“She’s out of danger, that’s what the doctors say. But she’s unable to talk, and eats only liquid diet”.

“How long will she remain in the hospital ?” asked Baba.

“I don’t know”. Maya’s brother said, rather rudely hinting that he didn’t like to be questioned further. He was holding a suitcase containing some clothes of his parents, some tooth-brushes and a saucepan and kettle and some other utensils of daily need. From his shoulders hung a thermoflask. 7

Once on the road to recovery. Maya began to blossom like a beautiful flower. She was like a machine, which functions better and looks more glossy and shiny after being repaired. She had put on a little more weight, grown taller, and adequate dosages of vitamins, pills and tonic gave her a shiny, flowering and new look.

Her father was delighted not only at her glowing beauty and health, but because God had answered his incessant prayers and cured his dear daughter of such a fatal disease. Came the day when Maya was to return home after two months. Maya’s brother stood at the bus stop to welcome her and his mother, and he had taken special care that day to keep the house neat and clean so that his mother and sister would be pleased.

“Look. Maya, I’ve cooked something special for you today; it’s fish curry, and after eating it, go immediately and thank Baba who’s been asking about you everyday.” Said her father, and her mother nodded her head in approval.

Maya really enjoyed eating the delicious lunch and it tasted better because she was eating at home after many days. Then she rushed off to see Baba, as her father had said. Baba too had just got up from a meal and was washing his hands, when Maya went and touched his feet. “O Maya, what are you doing?” Baba was flustered. “You never used to touch my feet before, why all of a sudden!” Holding her shoulders and lifting her up, he added, “My dear. I don’t want you to change at all. Just be your normal old self, and that’ll make me happy.”. He said, laughing.

“But Baba, for me you are God, you gave me a new life. How can I ever forget it ?” Her eyes lit up with a new kind of reverence .“Do you know Baba, in the hospital I thought a lot about you. And one night. I even dreamt that I was offering , ‘prasad’ to you”. She began prattling like a child once again, and Baba was very fond of it. He liked it very much. “O! so that’s it; No wonder the food got stuck in my throat so often: As for your dream, why don’t we arrange a feast in this courtyard. You may do the cooking, of course. Prassadda and I will help you, too”. He smiled at her.

The idea of a picnic pleased her immensely. A Sunday was fixed up, and luckily for the picnickers, the day turned out to be a beautiful one. White fluffy clouds sailed across the sky in the morning, and Maya’s spirits soared up as she trotted gleefully to Baba’s house with a bag of rice, dal and oil. Baba would contribute the vegetables and milk for kheer.

Baba was waiting expectantly for her arrival. He led her towards the huge courtyard beyond the house and pointing at a mango tree he said “Look Maya, that’s the place we selected for cooking. Prasadda is already there making an oven”.

Maya ran forward joyfully to help Prasadda to dig up a hole and pile the bricks. She wanted to participate wholeheartedly in it, and derive the full pleasure of Baba’s company. Even in the matter of partaking food she felt very privileged, because Baba had permitted her to cook the dal and curry, no matter what the taste would be.

After the oven had been made, she went about collecting dry leaves and twigs and piled them up in front of Prasadda so as to enable him to light the fire. Soon, she was busy cooking and stirring the dal, while Prasadda and Baba peeled the vegetables. Maya remained unusually quiet for she was engrossed in cooking and wishing fervently that the meal would be tasteful. Presently, to break the silence, Baba said. “Maya, it seems as though the weather is co-operating with us. Look the sun has gone beyond the clouds. In fact, it’s neither too sunny, nor does it rain, just the perfect weather for a picnic. Isn’t it my dear?”

Maya nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, Baba, but the wind isn’t sympathizing with me, its rushing on so badly that the fire is blowing out. O Prasadda uncle, please help me blow the fire”.She puffed and puffed through the long fennel at the smoky wood, till tears streamed down her eyes, and she could no longer carry on. Ultimately Baba snatched the fennel from her hand, and with one puff and blow, the wood started burning. “O’ Baba, it’s really a miracle”, “Maya shouted in joy. “There’s something in you which makes things happen”. Baba and Prasad uncle laughed. “It’s not true, it’s just that I am strong and you are weak”, Baba said.

It was already two O’clock in the afternoon by the time the meal was cooked. They were famished, and in the cool shade of the mango tree, they sat down to have lunch. Before putting the morsel into their mouths, they offered a prayer to the Lord. Just then Maya said “Baba, you must take a little food from my hands. One offers ‘bhog’ to the Lord first. Since you are my Lord. I’m offering it to you”.

Baba looked with distaste at the food in her hand. He said “Maya. I don’t like anyone feeding me”,and seeing her face wearing a disappointed look he quickly uttered. “Okay, put it in my mouth, if you like”. They ate silently. Primarily because they were very hungry; yet the whole event had the solemnity of a religious ceremony. Though the rice was quite hard and only half cooked, and the dal was a bit burnt, food had never tasted better to Maya. She kept looking at them to see if they ate with relish, and when she asked them repeatedly, whether the preparation was tasteful or not, they said it was excellent, though they did not think so. A little was left over from the meal and packing those in a tiffin, she took it home to make her parents to have a taste of it. They too appreciated and said how well she had cooked, considering the fact that it was the first time.

That night, as Maya went to bed, she thanked God for giving her such a happy day. Her father also looked at the peace which had descended on his sleeping daughter’s face, and he too thanked God for curing his dear little Maya. 8

Came the month of July and the monsoon broke out in full swing. It seemed as though the sky poured out all its venom with a vengeance, for it rained for days together, heavily and more heavily. The streets and roads become flooded with water and it became difficult to leave one’s house for buying materials of daily need. Simultaneously, the menstrual flow had also broken out within Maya. She had just completed thirteen years, when one morning on waking up, she was horrified to see blood oozing out of her private part. She ran to her mother, crying “Mama, Mama, look, there’s blood all over my dress. Is it another disease I’m suffering from?”

Maya was surprised to see her mother smiling. “No dear, don’t be panicky and don’t shout. Now that you are grown up, you ought to learn how you’ll manage on these days.” She switched off the gas stove, (for she was cooking a meal) took Maya by the hand and led her indoors. Taking out a torn sari from the wooden cupboard, she tore a string and cloth for pad out of it, and taught her daughter how to wear it. And then she lectured about the do’s and don’ts of a young lady. “And don’t go too often to Baba’s house. I know he has helped us a lot and you even owe your life to him. But still, you see, people may say cruel things”.

Maya listened quietly. She now realized that this was what her cheeky friends had been talking about in hushed tones. She was glad that physiologically, she had matured at the right time, but she experienced no such change in her mind and as for going to Baba’s house, there was absolutely no chance, for it rained incessantly and it became impossible for her to step out of home. The threat of flood loomed large following heavy release of water from the state’s only dam. Fear and panic struck and increased in the villagers’ hearts and minds as they saw the water level of the river’s surface reach the danger mark and then rise above it. Those living in slums on the river banks took their belongings to safe places. The women and children no longer went to the river to have a bath or wash their clothes. The swirling waters rushing headlong past them might have been a visual feast for city people, so that in cities people flock to the river bank to witness this spectacle. But the villagers looked on fearfully, for to them, the angry river symbolized only death and destruction. And then news came that the waters of the huge dam would be released, so that big industrial town and cities will not be devastated by flood if the dam breaks. Never mind if villages are washed away and thousands of peasants die ! What, after all, is there in the villages? Our policy makers stoically say. Towns and cities, inhabited by such multi- storey buildings, factories and industries worth crores of rupees should be saved, who cares for poor human beings? Mean while, the villagers kept cursing the town people and Ministers for ruining their lives.

“What’s the use of cursing them?” One of them said in a meeting called by the villagers to discuss the matter. “Instead, let us do something to save our lives.”

“What can we do?” someone else quipped. “At most, we can go to nearby villages which will also be washed away. And we don’t have money to move away to towns and cities either”. His face had a grim stoicism which belied the fear in his heart.

“Well. Anand Babu’s house is on top of that hill, why not shelter our wives and children in his house for the night, while we can squat on the hill.” One of them suggested.

“I don’t think he’ll agree. He still behaves indifferently towards us.” A farmer replied.

The sun had already set. Darkness was creeping in from all sides. The electricity had been damaged for the last two days, and soon, the whole village would be plunged into darkness While the women were busy making ready the lanterns and lamps to see them through the night, the men talked at the top of their voices just to evade the sense of fear of the impending danger which was threatening them. The radio incessantly warned them to leave their villages as soon as possible. For soon the waters of the dam would be released and channelised towards villages, lest they overflow into big towns and cities. Which nearby village could they go to if that village was threatened by the same danger? Fear of death and destruction had overcome their hunger and though they hadn’t eaten much for the last two days, they did not feel hungry. After much sound and fury, they trotted in a group to Baba’s house in the grimness of the night, holding up their lanterns.

Baba had just got up from his evening meditation and Prasadda was lighting the lamp in order to prepare the evening supper, when they heard continuous loud knocks on the door. Prasadda felt irritated and shouted back. “Wait a bit. I’m opening. You needn’t knock the door so loudly.”

Prasadda opened the door, and they streamed into the room pushing him aside. They stood crowded together, each jostling to come forward to speak to Baba, whose face was calm and composed. The villagers were seething with discontent and frustration, which reflected on their faces, while Baba’s appearance was quite cool and assured. For a moment, they felt pangs of envy twitching their hearts as they wondered how Baba could look so complacent when danger was threatening them from all sides.

“Yes, what’s the matter?” Baba asked them quite casually.

“Don’t you know? The radio has been announcing since morning that the waters of the dam would be released to-night, and it will wash away our village. The radio has also declared that we ought to leave the village. But where can we go? Communication has become impossible in our village itself, leave along going to other villages”.

One after another, they poured out their problems to Baba as if he was a savior from a distant land, come to eke out a solution for all their suffering. Baba listened to their problems without a single trace of impatience or annoyance on his face. They only wanted a patient listener, and they found it in him. Ultimately, one of the peasants said most humbly. “We have come to make a small request to you. We only want you to shelter our wives and children for this night, while we, the men can remain standing on the hills outside throughout the night.”

Baba smiled softly, “Such a small favour indeed! you need not have come with so much fear and apprehension. My doors are always open to welcome you. Bring them immediately .I can also arrange food for them”. The peasants went away, with relief in their hearts. Though they wanted to walk home fast, they had to trudge their way slowly through the watery and flooded darkness. Meanwhile, Baba and Prasadda started preparing a huge meal, consisting of rice, dal and boiled potatoes, and Baba did it with pleasure, for he found this occasion a wonderful opportunity to prove that he had no ill-feeling towards the villagers, and that he truly wanted to help them. Luckily, two huge sized bronzed pots were there, a small legacy which Baba had inherited from his grand parents, and which he treasured because of the sentimental feelings attached to it. While cooking, his thoughts often wandered to Maya, for he hadn’t seen her for the last ten or fifteen days, ever since the onset of the flood; and today, he knew, she wouldn’t come either. For, as the flood would reach its climax, she and her family members would take shelter in the upper storey of their house.

Soon, Baba’s house turned into a noisy and squabbly place, with half- naked children and women draped in only a sari and a blouse, talking at the top of their voices in the dark night, though their hearts and minds were throbbing with insecurity and uncertainty about their future Yet, they felt excited about such a peculiar outing which they had never experienced in their lives, and which seemed ,to them a mean luxury. A simple, but wholesome aroma was emanating from the cooked rice and dal, and the thought of a sumptuous feast and a benevolent host, which was a rare treat for them, banished away half of their sense of fear and insecurity. They gobbled up their food, served in leafy plates and save for a few mothers who received none when they asked for a second helping, most of them had been well-fed. Baba and Prasadda had to remain hungry that night, for no food was left for them. They felt a great sense of peace descending upon them at such a wonderful sacrifice. The women washed the utensils and cleaned up the place within minutes in the light of the glowing lanterns. Soon, sleep overcame their tired bodies, and the place hushed into an eerie silence in which the noise of the swirling and rushing waters seemed like a thousand snakes hissing. While the women and children in Baba’s house slept soundly stretched on the bare floor, the waters of the dam rushed headlong and took away some of their belongings at one sweep. And with the opening up of pink dawn, they woke up and were horrified to see themselves surrounded by a sea of carcasses and corpses. They looked towards the sky and saw some men, looking like monkeys, clinging to the top branches of trees. When the day had well-advanced, rescue and relief parties set about operating from helicopters. Not a single food item was left in Baba s house, but he and Prasadda did not feel hungry at all. They were moved to tears at the miserable plight of the people. When food packets dropped down from one of the helicopters the women and children stooped down upon those like birds of prey fighting for pieces of a dead man’s body. Later on, news arrived that a quarter of the population of the village had been victimized by the angry flood and had died. The sky was rent with the wails, cries and shouts of men, widowed women and children, and this mingled with the droning sound of the helicopters, and hissing rush of the waters provided a grotesque and dismal music to Baba’s ears. Never in his life had Baba witnessed such a spectacle and it made him sad to see the miserable loss of human lives.

Fortunately, it rained no longer after that, and the sun beating down its fierce rays upon the watered land seemed to the villagers like the face of God smiling at them. Within two days, most of the land had dried up and on the third day after the deluge, the shopkeepers started selling their wares. Baba was yearning for news of Maya, and try as hard as he could, he could not help feeling that something was wrong with Maya’s family.

Late in the afternoon, when Prasadda entered the house with a bagful of vegetables and grocery, Baba knew he had some information about Maya. Prasadda seemed to be excited and bubbling with news.

“You know what happened? Maya’s brother died in the flood” Prasadda exclaimed.

“What.!” The book which Baba was reading fell down with a thud on his lap. Baba never expected such ghastly news. He had seen Maya’s brother eight days ago, cycling down to school. Inwardly he thanked God that it was not Maya, for his sixth sense was hammering in his mind for the last few days that all was not right with Maya. Already he felt a strong bond with her, a bond of love and affection, and he just could bear to see her suffer again.

“But how did it happen?” Baba asked surprised. “It seems he had gone to visit a friend in spite of repeated dissuasion from his parents. His friend and he, in a fit of adventure, went to see how high the level of water was. While leaning over the railing of the bridge a strong wind blew, he tripped over and fell into the swirling waters”.

“I must go to their house to console them “Baba said.

“Do go, they really need consolation. I too will go with you” Prasadda added.

That evening, Baba haltingly and nervously walked down to Maya’s house. He had never gone there before except on one occasion, when Maya had been very ill, and he could not restrain himself from seeing her. Her mother had then behaved very rudely with him as though he was an unwanted visitor. Now, he quickened his paces, for he wanted to reach there soon. Maya’s relatives had gathered in their house, and all were weeping, some silently and some loudly. Maya’s mother was sitting in the corner of a room, one end of her sari half drawn over her face, and alternately weeping silently and crying out hysterically.

“O God I know my son will come home soon. Please God bring him back”. At times, she beat her head against the wall till it is swelled up and bled. The ladies tried to pull her back, but she pushed them aside. “O, leave me alone, leave me alone, please !” She shouted back at them. Her eyes were swollen, and since the last two days, she hadn’t even consumed a drop of water. Baba looked at her suffering face and wondered at the strange laws of God which inflicted so much suffering on innocent people. Just then, he caught sight of Maya who was approaching with tear-stained, red eyes and a swollen face. Coming close to Baba, she began sobbing violently and rested her head on Baba’s shoulder. Patting her back, he consoled her. “Now Maya, don’t cry, be brave. After all, you are the only one to console your parents. If you cry, they’ll be heart-broken and they will suffer more. Anyway, have you eaten anything?”

She nodded her head in acquiescence. “But my parents haven’t. Baba, please tell them to eat, if not, they too will die. O, what shall I do then!” and again, she fell into abyss of tears. He just couldn’t bear to see Maya crying. It reminded him of his little sister who too had cried a lot some days before her death. He wiped off a tear from his eye and left the place unnoticed, for he knew that nothing could ever console for the loss of a dear one.

On reaching home, he was surprised to see some peasants squatting patiently in his drawing room, “Yes, now, what is it?” He asked.

“Actually, it’s nothing”. One of them stood up and said, “we’ve just come to talk with you and give you company. After all, you’ve done so much for us. How can we ever forget you or leave you alone”.

Baba had a good mind to tell them bluntly that he did not want their company. But he just smiled at them and told them to sit on the mattress spread on the floor. “You see, I know you’ve come to share your joys and sorrows with me and tell me your problems. But the thing is, 1 can’t do anything to solve them”. He tried to euphemistically tell them that he did not like to be disturbed much.

“O Anand Babu, of course we don’t expect you to solve all our problems. We only want you to listen to us. There’s something in you which gives us a lot of solace and comfort”. Another half-clad peasant spoke up most reverentially.

And one by one. they poured out to him all their suffering and their joys indulging in cheap slander from time to time. Prasadda took full delight in it, but Baba hated such vulgar gossip, yet he found himself listening to them intently. He wanted to rebuke them to shut up their mouths, and say that he didn’t like such gossip, but he just could not brave himself up to do it. Once, he even made it clear that he had his meditation and evening prayer to do, and would they mind if they left him alone for a while? “Okay, then we are going. We’ll come back tomorrow. Its really wonderful talking with you”. They looked pleased as they walked out. and then, it became a routine. Everyday, they remixed their old hit gossips and blared them out, sometimes softly, at times jangingly, and quite often, whisperingly. Baba’s whole being revolted against this sort of meaningless and mindless talk. But he was helpless. Sometimes to avoid them, he went indoors on the pretext of meditating, and then when he would return after an hour, they’d be waiting patiently, and ultimately, very politely, so as not to hurt them , he would tell them to leave. He knew that it satisfied man’s innate instinct for hero worship. Gradually, Baba did most of the talking, to stop their endless chatter. He narrated to them stories from Mahabharata and Ramayana and explained shlokas from the Gita, and his clear melodious voice, lent a district charm to his discourse. Soon Baba became very popular and a much respected man in the village.

Baba was not very pleased at this sudden turn of events which life presented before him. He had never expected such a change in his lifestyle. He longed for the peaceful and quiet days of sweet companionship with Maya which he enjoyed during his early days in the village. He realized remorsefully that those days were gone forever. Yet he found himself thinking a lot about Maya, and this along with having to play the role of a mentor and a guide to the villagers was beginning to get on his nerves. But he cleverly concealed his displeasure and anxiety beneath a facade of calm and composed appearance, and he was aghast at the fact that he could manage to live such a hypocritical life which he indeed hated.

Once, some days after the funeral rites of her brother were over. Maya was returning home from school, when Baba, standing in the doorway of his house, caught sight of her. “Hello, Maya, what’s the matter ?” He called. “Why aren’t you coming to my house these days ?”

Maya was looking pale and fragile. The appreciative words and glances aimed at her glowing and healthy looks after her illness, seemed to have cast its evil spell on her, and she looked much older and haggard than her thirteen years. She had also thinned down a lot.

“How unfortunate really, Baba”, she smiled as she walked in and sat on the bare cot. “I was thinking of coming today, and now that you’ve called me, you may think that I came because you called me”. “Anyway, I’m glad you’ve come; 1 was really beginning to get worried” Baba ordered Prasadda to bring a steaming hot cup of coffee. It was drizzling steadily outside, but there was no fear of flood any longer because an embankment had been built.

“Baba, you remember our first encounter?” Maya reminisced between sips of coffee. “It was raining exactly like this. It’s only for one and half years that I’ve known you, and yet it seems ages. Doesn’t it, Baba?”

“Yes, it does. And how quickly these one and a half years flew away”. There was a strange glow in his eyes as he remembered those soft, sweet days of friendship with Maya. Maya rose up to go.

“Wait for some more time, I like your company,” Baba pleaded,

“But I can’t, Baba. Mama isn’t keeping well these days. She’s been ailing ever since my brother’s death. I have to look after her and do the entire cooking too”.

“Why can’t your papa keep a servant?” Baba was angry with her father for making Maya work so hard.

“A servant has been appointed and she’ll come tomorrow”.

Maya, being a sensitive girl could feel Baba’s anger against her father.

“And anyway. Baba, you are busy nowadays. Everywhere, I hear praises of you. I’m sure you haven’t thought much about me these days, nor will you be having much time for me in future”.

“It’s not really that, Maya, I can’t imagine myself not thinking of you. Believe me when I say that though physically, I was here, my heart and mind were always wandering to you” Baba said emphatically. “I rather think you banished me from your thoughts all these days”.

Tears welled up in Maya’s eyes. “O Baba, how can you ever imagine such a thing; I thought of you every moment. It’s the only luxury in which I indulged in my unfortunate life. And sweet and loving memories of you sustained me during those terrible days after my brother’s death, and is giving me hope even now. Okay, Baba, I’m going”, And Maya hurried away abruptly. 9

Baba sat in his armchair and remained gazing at the sky for a long time. It was Prasadda who broke in upon his thoughts and woke him up from his reverie. “What are you thinking Baba? Your coffee has become cold”. Prasadda chided Baba gently.

“I was just thinking”

“About what”?

“I’m thinking of leaving this place for ever”.

Prasada was used to Baba’s whimsical ideas. Even then, he was surprised.

“How ironical”! Prasadda ejaculated, “Just when you have settled down and have almost become indispensable to the villagers, you are thinking of leaving. Further you should enjoy such popularity and praise for some more time”.

Baba got up from his armchair and paced up and down the room. “I hate it. I hate this popularity !” He spoke from the soul of his being. “I just despise this play-acting, it’s horrid. I just wanted to be left alone here with a little peace, and affection from Maya, but it is this very thing which seems to elude me for ever and ever”. Suddenly, he became conscious of his hysteria and he ebbed down slowly. “Well, Prasadda, today is Thursday. Tomorrow I’m going to draw all my money from the bank, and on Saturday, early in the morning. I will be leaving”. He spoke decisively.

“But Baba, why will you draw your money, and where will you go?” Prasadda just could not understand this strange behaviour of Baba.

Baba stared at him. By now, he had regained his composure. “I myself don’t know where I will go. As for the money, I’m going to transfer Rs.50,000/- in your name, and the rest Rs.50,000/- will be given by you to the villagers after I have gone”.

Prasadda remained quiet. He knew Baba’s mind and how determined he was to carry out his decision. The next day, Baba went to the town and returned home with a lot of cash. He deliberately returned back early, for he wanted to have a talk with Maya before leaving for good. He stood at the gate waiting anxiously for her to walk past, and at half past four, he saw Maya’s figure hurrying up the hill. As she approached nearer, he felt a slight tug at his heartstrings on seeing her looking so pale. “Gosh Maya! you look so pale. Do come in. I will make a hot cup of coffee for you,” Baba pulled her indoors.

Maya sat down on the cot and just seemed to relax. She was quite cheerful.

“Really, Baba. I feel so happy here, as though all my sorrows and worries have just vanished into thin air. Baba”, “she continued with a faraway look on her face. “I’m studying very hard, till late in the night, so that one day, I will become independent and stay with you forever”.

Baba laughed out aloud. “Stay with me? A poor old man? Why indeed ! Your father will get you married. You will have an affectionate husband, a nice home and a happy family. And gradually you will erase me from your mind for ever.”

“Baba, I don’t want a husband, home and family,” Maya said vehemently, “I only want to be near you forever and ever. This is real bliss”, she shut her eyes, as if meditating.

“But Maya, that’s impossible. For tomorrow, by this time I will be gone far away from all of you”. At first, Maya could not comprehend the seriousness of the matter. She passed it off as a joke.

“Yes, but you will be coming back. I’m sure”, she said hoping to hear a “Yes” from Baba. “No Maya, I won’t come back again. I will be gone for ever.” Baba seemed very serious.

The sun had just set and the whole sky was tinged with a beautiful pink yellow and orange hue. It looked like a flower in full bloom. But to Maya, everything looked bleak and desolate, as if in despair, as the terrible truth of Baba’s taking leave of her dawned upon her slowly. She stared at Baba’s dark and remote face, and suddenly tears sprang up in her eyes. She ran forward, and with a childish and helpless look clasping his hands tightly, she pleaded with Baba. “Baba, I will go with you. Take me with you, please Baba” !

“Maya, don’t be silly ! you haven’t really thought about the matter at all, have you? You certainly can’t leave your parents”. Baba rebuked her. Maya sat down and thought deeply. She certainly could not leave her parents. She was the only light in their lives and her mother would become helpless without her. The impracticability of her going away with Baba alighted upon her, and she left the place sadly and quietly without bidding goodbye to Baba.

At night, after Maya had completed all her household chores and had her dinner, while going to bed. she buried her face deep into the pillow and sobbed bitterly. Already, the busy work of house-keeping was telling upon her health. But she did not mind it, nor did she worry much about her incapability to concentrate on her lessons. She wept because now she would be left entirely alone without Baba, whom she imagined not only as a friend, Guide and mentor, but also as her lover too. For thanks to the hormonal reactions within her early teenage body, she was also beginning to feel the thrill of illusioning Baba fondling her private parts. She thought it was a sin to indulge in such sexual fancies, but try as hard as she could, she could not ward it off from her mind easily. With Baba’s departure, her illusory world of romance would never turn into a reality. She fell asleep with an aching void in her heart, her soul crying at the thought of separation from Baba.

The next evening, there was a great flutter of excitement when the peasants come to know that Baba had left their village forever. Baba’s departure created no less a sensation than his arrival. Every where, it was whispered from ear to ear, “You must be knowing that Anand Babu has left for good and he has donated a huge sum of money for the development of the village.” This was news indeed! The women praised him to the skies, telling how handsome he was and what a noble soul he possessed. Many regretted having misunderstood his quietness as indifference during the early months of his stay in the village. Overnight he had turned into a hero, some sort of a martyr. For some days, the stormy news of Baba playing the vanishing trick invaded every nook and comer of the village and suddenly it receded to the background, to give way to newer rumours and fresh gossip. Memories of Baba’s enigmatic smile languished more in the minds of the village women folk. In Maya particularly, it created a great change in her attitude to life. She no longer remained the blithe, merry young girl she had been earlier. An ailing mother, household responsibilities thrust upon her, combined with the loss of a friend in whom she could confide her innermost secrets, forced her to look upon life with a serious eye. Often, while returning from school, if Prasadda would be standing outside, she would ask anxiously.

“Has any letter come from Baba ?” Prasadda, who seemed to be enjoying his independent living, just shook his head in dissent.

“No, Maya, I too know nothing about his whereabouts”. He’d say with a deep frown on his brow, as though he was truly worried. Maya would feel very disappointed. 10

The days passed into months, and months glided into years. Maya blossomed into ladyhood as her mother gradually recovered from her illness and took charge of the household affairs. As Maya walked to school everyday, in her tenth standard, she blushed at the ogling looks young men cast at her, and she detested them. She faintly remembered Baba and rarely thought of him, for these days, her mind was preoccupied with her lessons and her H.S.E. Exam which was knocking at her door. She was also beginning to feel the thrill as well as the pain of sexual touches. One day, at about two O’clock in the afternoon her menstrual cycle had begun. On the plea of feeling unwell, she look leave of her teacher and walked fast towards her home. It was a hot, summer afternoon, and the road was quite bare. On approaching Baba’s house, she gazed at it with fond reminiscences. Suddenly, she saw a youth straddling up towards her. She thought he would ask her something, but on coming closer, he quickly squeezed her slightly protruding breast and fled away. She was completely taken aback, but the next moment, she was overcome with a great sense of fear, and just sprinted home. Breathlessly, she ran indoors and sat down on the cot, panting heavily and then the tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“What is it. Maya? do tell me, dear. And why are you crying so? Tell me what happened ?” A tirade of questions came pouring out from her mother’s mouth, and just when Mama was beginning to get scared that some great mishap had occurred to her dear daughter, Maya told about the whole incident. Inwardly, her mother felt relieved that it was no serious a matter. Such things usually happened, she reasoned. Maya soon became used to such trifling amorous adventures. She had grown up to be a tall, fair and attractive young lady in her sixteenth year. Young men stared at her as she walked to and fro from school. But Maya did not give a thought to their gazes and appreciative glances. She gave priority to her lessons, and laboured hard day and night, as a result of which she did come out with flying colours in the school final board exams. And now the problem that worried her parents most was her college education. “Our Maya has to traverse up and down to town everyday; she’s got a seat in the Government College and it will not be wise to forgo it”. Maya’s father declared one day, while the three were having breakfast.

“But Papa, why should I commute every day? I can easily stay in the hostel”. Maya argued. She had read stories about the exciting lives led by girls in the hostel and she wanted to experience the joy of it.

“But first, you must get a seat in the hostel, dear. Then, the atmosphere is not so congenial for studies either. Besides, so many strange things are happening there”. “Maya’s father had wanted to say ‘Bad’ but he held his tongue and instead uttered ‘strange’.

“What old fashioned ideas you have, Papa!” Maya exclaimed. “Strange things indeed ! I am not a child, after all. Papa, please let me stay in the hostel”. She said with real earnestness. There was a child like appeal in her eyes, and her Papa did not have the heart to ejaculate a ‘no’. So, the next month, with bag and baggage, Maya waved good bye to her parents, to settle down in the hostel.

Maya’s parents missed her terribly. The house seemed dark and desolate, like a desert in the night, after her departure. Maya’s quick and lively foot steps, her friendly prattle were all missing, and it was felt even more by her mother. While the father perused and signed files in the office, in the lonely afternoon and nights her mother’s thoughts would wander to her dear daughter and what she would be doing. And then her thoughts would penetrate into the past, and she would remember her lost son and cry. She found it unbearable, and one day, while her husband was leaving for office, she said, “I think it will be better if Maya stays at home and commutes to college every day. She’s still a child and can’t look after herself properly. Last time when she came, you must have noticed that she had thinned down a lot.”

Maya’s father nodded his head in agreement. It was as if someone had put his own feelings and words into his wife’s mouth. “Yes” he acquiesced. “Both of us miss her a lot and it will be best if she stays at home.” So the next month. Maya was only too glad to be back home once again. She had gone to taste the joy and excitement of hostel life, harbouring a lot of teenage romantic illusions in her mind. But when she came face to face with the realities of hostel life, its dull and dreary atmosphere, its tasteless food, the unfriendly girls who were mean enough to steal her undergarments, her illusory world came tearing down to pieces. In dark, sleepless nights in the hostel, she craved for her mother’s tender love and delicious dishes, and her father’s affectionate pats and calls. While the other girls made friends so easily, Maya just could not adjust herself in the hostel. So she was full of delight to be back home again. Soon she got used to commuting by bus daily.

“Mama, it’s really tiring going up and down everyday. But there’s nothing that can make up for the charm of a sweet, smiling mother receiving you after a hard day’s work”. Maya hugged her mother affectionately one day after returning from college.

“Too much love for me isn’t good, my dear”. Mama smilingly told her as she winnowed away the husks of flattened rice. “’Cause one day, you’ll leave me and go to your in-laws.”

The colour quickly rose up in Maya’s cheeks, and she blushed for her mother had never broached the topic of marriage with her. Simultaneously as if matching her mood, the sky blazed with a crimson glow as the sun set beyond the hills. 11

College days, for Maya were rather routine and boring. She experienced none of the fun and excitement of College life, which she had read in books and seen in films. Everyday, she waited at the bus stop in her village at nine O’clock in the morning for a matador, or a canter, or a bus to take her to the college in the town, a good twenty-five miles away. Most of the time classes were suspended and at such times, she hated college more than ever. Her boy-classmates did not consider her very attractive and thought her to be rather plain and simply dressed. They sought the favour of rich, smart city-bred girls wearing revealing dresses, and who looked down upon Maya as a girl from the mofussil. While Maya’s classmates kept on adding to their list of friends at the college, Maya found more and more of a friend in her mother. Everyday, as she gobbled down her late lunch after returning from the college, she opened out her heart to her mother, and narrated all the incidents of the day in detail. “You know what happened today. Mama?” Maya’ said in a very tense mood as she came home one day.

“What happened, dear?” Mama asked casually. Mama had now become used to her daughter’s chatter and had learnt to take these unusual incidents in her stride.

“As I was struggling to find for a place for myself inside the bus, a middle aged man put his hands on my hand and held it tightly, and then he kept on brushing himself against my chest several times. I felt like killing him”. The memory of that scene brought blood to her eyes, and she banged the table. “O Mama, it’s really horrid going by bus”. She cried out with a spurt of disgust.

“Weren’t you holding your bag in front of your chest, dear? How often have I told you to do that”. Her mother did feel disturbed at the discomfiture of her daughter, but she tried to conceal it beneath a veneer of patience and understanding. “You know Maya, being a lady, you have to be very cautious and careful in this world of opportunistic men. And one never knows what’s there in one’s luck!” There was a philosophical note in her words, but to Maya, it sounded ominous, a sort of warning, and she felt as though some unknown danger was threatening her life.

Soon, the memory of that incident was completely blotted out from Maya’s mind and she found herself preparing hard for her final Exams. Her mother continuously goaded her to stick to her books, for though she was an uneducated housewife, she was ambitious enough to see her daughter in a better plight, and she knew that eligible bachelors always demanded a good University degree from their prospective brides. When her results were published, Maya was overjoyed. She had obtained a first division, and she went around her friends’ homes distributing sweetmeats.

“Well Maya”, Neena said enviously. “You’re very lucky. See, though I passed matric, I couldn’t even step into college. My parents just stopped my education on the pretext of not having money. How mean of them, really”.

“But it’s all the better”. Sheela said, giggling. The girls were sitting in the shade of a tree in Neena’s house and were gossiping. “Soon you will be getting married, and have a home and a family”. Maya and Neena laughed, but there was a cynical note in Neena’s voice, as she said “Hmmm……. a home and a family ! Look what a horrible, poverty-ridden home and family our mothers are having! ”. 12

The next day was a bright Sunday morning. The sun shone brilliantly and dazzled the eyes of pedestrains. Maya’s father had no inclination to stroll along to the market place which he generally did on holidays on the pretext of buying something or the other, rather he sat down in his armchair to browse through the daily paper. He couldn’t concentrate. His mind was disturbed by certain problems which had cropped up in the office. Maya’s Mama was peeling vegetables, and she thought this was an opportune moment to bring up the topic of Maya’s further college education. “I think it’ll be better if Maya stays in the hostel for the next two years to do her graduation.” Mama said, in a casual tone.

Her husband frowned as he looked up from his paper. “But she couldn’t stay in the hostel for two months even”. His voice was grave.

“But commuting up and down is even worse”. Maya’s mother said. She wanted to renew contacts with her cousins from her mothers’ side, therefore she continued, “It’ll be best if she stays in my cousin Sheela didi’s house. They’ll also look after her well”.

Her husband got up from his chair. He seemed quite distressed. “You and your Sheela didi”!. He was full of disdain. “Their house is worse than a prostitute’s, I’ll never allow my daughter to stay there. I really don’t understand how you can indulge in such insensible talk at this age.”

This sparked off the flame of quarrel. Maya’s mother stopped her peeling, and got up suddenly, and with arms akimbo, she charged at him like an angry lion.

“I’m insensible, isn’t it, you fool ! And what about you? Can’t you see that some of Maya’s friends are already married, and till now, you haven’t brought a single prospective bridegroom to see her”. Maya dreaded these quarrels, and all the while, she coaxed her mother to remain quiet. “Mama, please be quiet, Papa will naturally stop arguing if you hold your tongue.” But Mama remained underterred. Her voice rose higher and higher, while her husband too fumed like a serpent. He said angrily “Maya’s not an object for sale that I can bargain her in the market. Nor can I forcibly let her sleep near someone, can I? You impudent nagger, It’s only because of your ill-fated face that things are not happening at the right moment”. He walked out hurriedly realizing that if he lingered on the quarrel would be aggravated. Maya’s mother too went indoors. Sitting on the floor and leaning against the cot, she put her face downwards, between her knees and sobbed slowly. When Maya sat, beside her she looked up and cried out. “O Maya,’ she continued to weep. “If only your brother had been alive, things would not have been so bad”.

Maya tried to pacify her. “Mama, do try to be sensible. Am I not there ,to make up for Dada? Look, don’t worry about me. I’ll do a job and be with you forever and ever”. Maya said cheerfully. Even through her tears, her Mama smiled. She said.

“A girl has to get married and leave her parents. Don’t you know it”?

“But Mama, I’ll be an exception. Wait and see”. Maya said, and then went away to do the cooking, for she knew her mother would not budge from her place, and would only weep and weep, remembering her lost son. 13

College life in Maya’s pre-degree course was quite uneventful and unremarkable. She didn’t have to trudge up and down in the bus everyday, for most of the time, classes were suspended. She had learnt to make herself look more attractive by putting on a little cream and powder on her face, and two of her boy classmates imagined they had fallen in love with her. They wrote love letters, but Maya didn’t reciprocate their love. She decided they were not her cup of tea and she had better keep away from them. They were of different castes, and she knew her parents would never like her to marry a man from another caste. A close bond developed between mother and daughter during these last days of Maya’s teenage and now talks of marriage no longer, brought blushes to her cheeks .“Mama, after I obtain my B.A. Degree, I’ll take up a job”. Maya declared one day while helping her mother hang the wet clothes on the string to dry.

“A job is not readily waiting for you, my dear, so that you can straightaway jump into it”, her mother said, smilingly, and then thumping Maya’s head she continued. “First of all, I’ll get you married, and then you can do what you like in your husband’s house”.

“Mama, I want to marry a very rich and handsome man, so that I can enjoy life, and not suffer like you have suffered”. Maya’s eyes carried a wistful, longing look, and listening to Maya’s words, her mother became grave and thoughtful. Carrying the empty bucket in doors, she walked besides Maya and said, “Maya, only money doesn’t give one happiness. Mental peace and affection are more essential things which a woman craves for. Your Papa hasn’t been so bad, after all”. And then observing the cheerful look suddenly vanishing from her daughter’s face, she smiled and added.

“O Maya, don’t worry ! I’ll get you married to a rich and handsome man very soon. And I’m sure your Papa will agree with my choice”. For the next few days and months, Maya busied herself with her lessons, and in her B.A. Finals which was held a year and a half later, she got a second class honours with distinction.

After the initial feeling of happiness shared by daughter and parents had died down, once again the topic of marriage was broached up. One morning, as Maya’s father was leaving for office. Mama handed over the umbrella to him, for it had already started drizzling. Her husband was humming a tune as he shot open the umbrella. Seeing her husband in a cheerful mood. Maya’s mother deliberately brought up the topic of Maya’s marriage.

“By the way, have you thought of your daughter’s marriage? She’s completed her education, and is already twenty one years old. Certainly, we can’t send her to do a job somewhere, cruel as the world is”.

Generally, her husband didn’t attach much importance to such a matter, for he still considered Maya too young to get married, but that day, his face brightened up “Yes, I just forgot to tell you. Tommorrow, some people are coming to see Maya”.

Maya’s mother’s face brightened up too. “O, really !” she broke out. “Who are they?”

“A colleague of mine and his son, who’s a clerk in the P.W.D. Office.”

On hearing that the prospective bridegroom was a clerk, her face fell. Her husband, sensing his wife’s disappointment smiled at her and said. “Don’t worry, we’ll see some other good proposals for Maya. Whatever money I have saved up will be all spent on her marriage and given as dowry. And our Maya is quite beautiful too, and therefore we’ll certainly find a good match for her. Just because they’ll come to see her doesn’t mean we’ll thrust our daughter on them. We can say ‘no’ if we don’t like the man”. And then he hurried off into the drizzling rain.

Maya’s mother seemed to understand the logic of the situation quite well, and busied herself in sundry matters. Holding a huge and tall broomstick, she began clearing up the cobwebs from the ceiling. “Mama, how is that you are clearing the cobwebs today? Don’t you know, today is Thursday and on Thursday, you should not do such a thing”.

“What to do, Maya? Tomorrow morning, some people are coming to see you and I don’t think I’ll have time tomorrow”.

“To see me for marriage?” Maya exclaimed and hugged her mother. Her mother didn’t look down at all, and continued with her cleaning ‘O Mama, my results have just been out. Let me enjoy my girlhood for some more days. Can’t this be done a bit later ?”

Maya no longer felt shy discussing marriage with her mother. She had just completed twenty one years, and looked quite sweet and attractive in all her simplicity with two thick black plaits of hair hanging down her shoulders, or so her mother thought, Donned in a new blue and white dotted salwar Kameez, Maya looked the perfect picture of innocence as her mother appreciated her slim and slender built and guileless appearance. “If we don’t get you married soon, you’ll be cursing us later”. Mama said in all seriousness.

Maya was in a light hearted mood and wanted to chat further. “Okay Mama, what’s he working as, the man who is supposed to see me”, she asked casually.

“He’s a clerk in the P.W.D. Office” her mother said.

Maya’s face fell ,“O Mama. I told you I won’t marry a clerk. I hate poverty and clerks are always poor”. She exclaimed, with distaste.

Maya busied herself helping her mother arrange the things in order. Books had to be put back on the shelves, clothes had to be folded and put inside the almirah, etc. She was reminded of her dead brother who had done up the house tastefully just before her arrival from the hospital, and tears brimmed into her eyes and a drop trickled down her cheek. And then, her mind wandered to Baba s sweet affection for her, and she wondered where he was, and if he still remembered her. “Maya, will you please help me shift this teapoy to the drawing room”? Her mother’s call broke in upon her thoughts, and she awoke from her reverie.

The next morning was cloudy and a grey mist overhung in the sky. There was promise of a shower, so that Maya’s parents were in apprehension as to whether the prospective bridegroom’s party would come or not. As the day progressed, the sun peeped out from behind the clouds, and the late morning became balmy and breezy too. It cheered up the dampened spirits of Maya’s parents, and they felt glad when the prospective bridegroom’s party arrived, consisting of father, mother and son. Maya sat on the bed in the room upstairs, ready for the premarital interview, draped in a beautiful silk saree of her mother’s, a merun bindi shining from the centre of her forehead, and her face heavily powdered. A newly married friend of hers had come over to help her get over the feeling of nervousness.

“Look, they have come,” she giggled as she looked out through the window.

“Shut the window a bit, please and keep it ajar. Let me have a glimpse of him” Maya earnestly pleaded with her friend.

Her friend did as was told and Maya ran to the window and peeped out of it. On seeing the man, a look of dismay flitted across her face. “How ugly he is !” She thought. His complexion was too dark, as black as coal perhaps, and he had thick, straight hair, sticking out of his scalp, like needles. Maya thought he looked exactly like an African Negro. He walked behind his parents with a nervous gait, his beady eyes looking this way and that. Maya considered him repulsive and then and there itself, she decided she would never marry him, come what may. She hurriedly ran down to tell her mother of her decision, but already, her Mama was in the drawing room, ushering them in. Maya had tastefully decorated the room the previous day, and just an hour ago, she had adorned the table with a vase of freshly picked roses.

Ghoshal Babu’s colleague, Mr. Dey and his wife were highly impressed by the cordial reception accorded to them. The hot samosas and the sweetmeats were delicious and it was followed by a course of steaming hot tea and coffee, all prepared by Maya’s friend, who was an adept at preparing various dishes. After some pleasant discussions, ranging from the inclement weather to politics, Mr. Dey said, “And now, Ghoshal Babu, we won’t take up much of your time The bus is at half past three, and I think we ought to be going after some time”. Ghoshal Babu got the hint and sent his wife to usher Maya in. Maya came in, led by her friend, and sat clumsily on the sofa, her face downwards. All eyes were glued on her, and the colour rose up in Maya’s cheeks.

“What’s your name?” Mrs. Dey, the mother of the supposed to be bridegroom, asked.

“Maya”. Maya spoke softly, lifting up her face. One look at them and she felt nervous and embarrassed to see all eyes staring at her. She began to hate them from the core of her being for they made her feel like a commodity in the market, ready to be sold.

“Ask her something!” The mother whispered and nudged her son.

“In which year did you pass your B.A.?” The son’s voice was shrill, like that of a girl’s and Maya didn’t like it at all.

“This year”. Maya replied quite loudly. She had overcome her shyness, and did not care a damn for their impression.

Nothing much was asked, but Maya easily won the Deys’ hearts by her naivete, and innocent looks. While taking leave Mr. Dey clasped Maya’s father’s hand and said, “Ghosal Babu, we really like your daughter very much. You just say ‘Yes’ and I’ll name the day of the wedding.”

“But - but - but ask your son’s impression”, Ghoshal Babu was dumbfounded. He never expected that Mr. Dey would so readily accept Maya as his future daughter-in-law.

The son just grinned blandly and said, “I have nothing to say. I always abide by the decision of my parents”. The next morning, while gobbling down her breakfast, consisting of chappatti and curry, Maya declared decisively. “Mama, I won’t marry that man. He’s so ugly . Besides, he’s only a clerk, and I told you don’t I like clerks or teachers”.

“Okay, My dear”, her Mama said. “We’ll try our best to find a doctor or an Engineer to marry you. Whatever money your Papa has, will be given to you as dowry. Who else is there!”

Maya smiled to herself. She felt reassured that her father would spare no pains in finding a suitable match for her. Everyday, as Maya picked flowers early in the morning, and offered them at the feet and heads of the various Gods and Goddesses that adorned the walls of their prayer room, she prayed for a wealthy husband. And it seemed her wishes would come true. For soon after, another colleague of Ghoshal Babu’s gave him the address of a doctor whose parents were in search of a homely, pleasant- looking bride for their son. Maya’s photo was duly sent and appreciated by them, and a day was fixed up when they would come down and see Maya. Maya’s spirits went soaring up once again, she nurtured romantic illusions of herself and her wealthy husband walking hand in hand in beautiful and scenic locales like Kashmir or Shimla, or basking together in the sun and sand of Miami beach in Florida, who knows ! A pleasant feeling of sexy thrill suffused her, and she tingled with excitement at such imagination. She knew well enough that after such pleasant illusions, confrontation with dull plain, boring, reality would he painful for her mind, but try as she could to ward it off, they came flitting into her mind’s eye again and again. All the same, she felt cheerful and hummed a soft tune to herself. One fine evening she was helping her mother wash the utensils and after some time, her mother said. “Now Maya, don’t wash any more, else you’ll suffer from coughs and colds! and your palms will also lose their softness. After all, they’ll be coming to see you after two days, and you must be in good health.”

They came, the young doctor and his parents and the same process of bride interview was repeated once again. Questions were asked. Maya answered them, looking at them bravely, for she was told that they want a somewhat not -so- shy girl. And this time . Maya fell head over heels in love with the tall and handsome doctor who was supposed to go away to the United States very soon, along with his new bride. They came and saw, and Maya prayed fervently they would conquer her too. For another three or four days she remained in a state of euphoria, dreaming of the wonderful things she would enjoy with her doctor husband. She seemed a bit distracted and instead of helping her mother in the household chores, which she generally did, she pretended to read, but all the while thinking of the young doctor.

One day, late in the afternoon, probably a week after this bride seeing marriage ceremony, Maya was just browsing through the daily paper when she heard the wedding mediator’s quick steps and cheerful voice sailing into the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and Maya ran to the door to eavesdrop the conversation between her father and his colleague.

“You see, Ghoshal Babu”, the colleague was saying, “They appreciated Maya tremendously, and the young man particularly, is really interested in marrying her, but his parents are demanding a lot of dowry, in cash. They claim that they have spent lots of money on his education, and now, they need much more to see him through for some months in America”.

“How much are they asking?”

Five lakhs.”

“Five lakhs !” A thunder bolt struck in the hearts of father and daughter simultaneously “Even if I scoop up all my savings from the G.P.F. and L.I.C. it’ll amount to two and a half lakhs.” Maya’s father exclaimed, beating his heart violently. “I’ve been an honest man throughout my life. Till today, I have not taken a pie of bribe money. I don’t even have ancestral property which I can sell and obtain the cash. How do they expect me to give five lakhs ! No!” he shouted nodding his head. “Tell them we cannot give five lakhs and they need not contact us further”.

Hearing his loud voice, his wife came hurrying just then. “Don’t get so excited”, she said calmly. Turning to the mediator, she requested. “Please tell them to agree with a little less. I can sell some of my ornaments and make it three lakhs”. She had set her heart upon making the doctor her son-in-law, and thus be proud of incurring the envy of other mothers of young daughters in the village. Such a match would immensely increase her status in their low middle class society.

“Ketaki, stop blabbering” her husband was angry. “I don’t want to hand over my daughter to such hungry and greedy wolves.” Looking at his colleague, he said, “tell them not to visit us again”.

At such moments, Ketaki thought it was best to remain quiet. As for Maya, it was shocking and painful for her to come to terms with the fact, with the reality that the handsome, young doctor would no longer be her husband. Her heart wept, bled perhaps, but she decided to assume a cheerful appearance, so as to help her parents get over the feeling of disappointment of a broken marriage proposal. Henceforth, she thought she would harbour no more illusions. Somewhere, in the inner most recesses of her mind, the words of Baba rang in her ears. “Maya” Baba had said one day, some eight years ago. “Never have illusions in your mind. They take you for away from the truth, and once you come out of this illusory world you feel irritated while facing bare, stark, reality. It hampers your mental peace”. At that time, Maya had just dismissed off those words as Baba’s philosophical jargon, but now, staring out of the window into the sky, and watching the birds twittering nest wards in the twilight she thought how true those words were, and in the thought itself, she felt consoled. She yearned to hear Baba’s rich, yet sweet voice telling her about the facts of life, and longed to see him once again.

Soon after, a young teacher of a neighbouring village school, who had seen Maya commuting by bus daily to college, proposed marriage. One day his parents visited Ghoshal Babu’s house with a big packet of sweetmeats. They belonged to the same caste, and Maya’s mother thought it would be quite a good match .The teacher was the only son and they owned a lot of landed property too. When Maya heard of the proposal, she wrinkled up her nose, and twitching her mouth, said, “Mama, I told you I won’t marry a teacher”. Her mother was just emerging from the bathroom with a bucketful of washed clothes, and was feeling very tired after having done all the day’s washing. “Then what?” She retorted rather rudely. “You think a Prince Charming will come and take you away in his golden chariot?” Boring and laborious household chores over the years had perhaps added a disgruntled touch to her behaviour.

However, Maya did not feel hurt or disappointed. She was used to her mother’s down- to -earth manner of talking, and she knew her Mama meant no harm or spite. She laughed out aloud, flashing her even white teeth, and said. “Mama, wait and see. A Prince Charming will certainly come for me one day !” She looked up towards the sky, as if she saw her future written there.

Her mother’s face lit up. Hope flashed into her eyes and remained shining there till it glistened into tears. Putting down the bucket, she drew Maya’s head to her bosom and cried out “Maya, you really think so ! I’ll be the happiest mother in this world if such a thing happens ! You can never imagine how many sleepless nights I’ve gone through thinking of your marriage.” Just then, Maya’s married friend called in and Maya and she went upstairs to gossip on the terrace. The sun filtering through the leaves of the overhanging guava tree threw dappled spots on the roof, and Maya’s friend ran forward to sit there under the branches of the tree. “No, let’s not sit there. Neela,” said Maya, “come into this room and we’ll chat.” They settled down on the cot. A balmy breeze wafted through the window and a crow cawing on the branches of a tree broke the silence of a hot summer afternoon.

Look, the crow is cawing. It’s a good sign showing that a new member will be added to your family soon. Probably it’s the teacher, who knows!” said Neela, and giggled.

“I certainly won’t marry a teacher”, Maya remonstrated.

“Why, what’s wrong with him.? Besides, he has no liabilities.” Neela argued. The crow was still cawing. Both the friends were nibbling biscuits, and Maya threw a broken piece to the crow. The crow held it in its beak and flew away. “You know, I’m very ambitious, and want to marry a man of status and wealth. I don’t want to wallow in poverty like my mother”. Maya continued the discussion.

“Then you’ll perhaps be waiting throughout your life and die an old maid”. Neela said, rather partically.

“Then I’ll die an old maid.” Maya’s tone had an ominous note and Neela did n’t like it.

“Now come on. Maya, don’t be silly. What about your sexual instinct? Aren’t you curious enough to satisfy it ?” Her friend asked frankly.

“O, Sex ! In India, sex is all sham, humbug and hypocrisy. Men and women do have pre-marital and extra-marital sex, but they try to hide it under the veneer of morality and faithfulness. One is more free and unrestrained about sex in the west. I think.” And then, in a low voice. Maya asked Neela. “Tell me frankly, does your husband really satisfy you sexually, as you had imagined? I’m sure he does not”.

Her friend laughed and said,” You speak as if from deep experience, whereas you know nothing. Do get married, my dear, and enjoy the wonderful joys of sex.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Maya’s papa was determined to fulfil his dear daughter’s wishes. For the next five years, many doctors, engineers, class-l officers were brought to interview her for marriage, as though she was a showpiece, but she was rejected on some ground or the other. Some said her height was short, others complained that she was not so very fair, while still others demanded a lot of dowry, finding fault in her as being half-educated, just a mere graduate. With the passing of years. Maya’s moderately good LOOKS faded too, and she looked oldish and pale, like a withered flower Almost all her friends had got married, and with the departing of each friend to her in law’s place. Maya felt the tinge of envy and shame stabbing at her breast like a knife. Wherever she went, she was considered an object of pity, and therefore she confined herself more and more to her home. As the gossip tongues wagged, mother and daughter found it unbearable at times, while the father busied himself all the while in his office work, being throughly fed-up of arranging so many brideseeing occasions and spending money on delicious snacks. Until the mother could contain herself no longer.

One day, after a busy schedule of mopping, washing and hurried cooking, she vented out all her frustration on Maya. “You ill-fated girl !” She cried out, “It’s for you that, I cannot hold my head high anywhere. Why indeed didn’t you agree to marry that clerk or teacher, may I know? Thought too great of yourself, didn’t you? Now.’even a peon won’t marry you!”

Maya’s father, who was just setting out for office, held back a bit “What’s this, Ketaki! Don’t, rebuke Maya like this, it’s not her fault that she can’t get married.”

Ketaki remained quiet. She realised she had been cruel to say such harsh words to Maya. But Maya didn’t feel hurt in the least. She knew it must be painful for her mother to see all the other village girls settling down, except her dear one. And she couldn’t prevent people telling her Mama wherever she went.

“Arre, when are we going to eat Maya’s wedding feast? Or do you intend to keep her near you for ever”.

“What to do. Didi?” her mother would reply. “I can’t find a suitable bridegroom.”

“ And how are we finding ?” One of them would say depreciatingly. “Aren’t our daughters getting married? The fact is, you made a grievous mistake when you allowed her to step into college”

Ketaki would remain quiet their but come home and spit out all her anger and frustration on her husband and daughter. “You lazy fool”, She would tell her husband “Sitting idle in the office all day and doing nothing by way of arranging your only daughter’s marriage”. She knew well enough this was a lie but yet she derived a vicarious pleasure in taunting him again and again only to deliberately hurt him. And then arguments, quarrels and ultimately slaps from her husband’s hard palm would quieten her. Maya dreaded and hated these quarrels. Marriage no longer held any fascination for her. Standing near the window and watching the clouds floating as the shrieking voices of her parents gradually lulled into silence, she decided she would take up a job, if possible. She hated this typical middle class Indian, arranged marriage system, where brides to be were viewed critically for sale by the buyer-husbands, and son-in-laws were auctioned in the marriage market to be bought by the highest father-in-law bidder. She wished she had fallen in love and had a lover, who would marry her; but then with a sigh she realised she had fallen in love only with Baba. God knows where he was. Thoughts about Baba bubbled up in the surface of her memory, but she deliberately made them vanish away for it would only leave her pining. Mean-while, her mother showed Maya’s horoscope to astrologers, observed fasts, forced Maya to wear talismans and not-so-costly stones, praying all the while for Maya’s marriage. And soon, it seemed, her prayers were answered, for, when Maya had just completed her twenty-sixth birthday, a tall handsome Engineer, employed in a Government firm, agreed to marry her. His parents came and finalised the match at first sight. Maya’s parents were over-joyed. The date of marriage was fixed up and preparations for the wedding were set afoot. Husband and wife sat till late in the night making lists of the persons to be invited, the grocery to be bought, the clothes to be gifted, which model of scooter should be given befitting their son-in-law’s status. A mere twelve days were left for the wedding to take place. As for Maya, she was not very delighted at the prospect. Just when she had become used to her independent way of living and wanted to take up a job, this marriage seemed to be forced upon her. A sense of fear over shadowed her stale gaiety, like a cloud passing over a pale moon. It did not match with the cheerful and busy atmosphere, which pervaded the entire house.

On the ‘Jai Ragada’ morning six days before the wedding, most of the village women had been invited to participate in the ceremony. “Ketaki. we didn’t know your Maya is so lucky After all, she got what she wanted”. One of them said. Maya’s mother smiled as she hurriedly made preparations for the occasion. “Didi, Its all God’s grace. You know when the time for marriage comes, no one can prevent it”. Others nodded their heads in assent. As the ullu-ullu calls of the ladies and the blowing of the conchs rent the clear sunny air, Maya’s heart seemed to throb, and then crack into two, for she just could not bear the idea of separation from her dear parents, particularly her mother, with whom she had spent a long twenty six years so closely. As Maya sat huddled up, face downward, her chin resting on her knees drawn up, silent tears coursed down her cheeks and she started sobbing.

“Now Maya, what’s this? come on, be a good girl, don’t cry. Every girl has to go one day, and soon you’ll be so happy there, you’ll forget your parents completely”. An elderly lady joked. Others laughed, but these words seemed to tear Maya’s soul apart. How could she ever forget her parents who loved her so much ?

Au the wedding day drew closer, the whole house was fluttering with excitement, Even distant relatives came pouring in from all quarters, for Maya’s father had taken special care to invite each and everyone, since this was his first and last marriage function. 14

Just a day before the wedding. Maya’s father went to the town to purchase some last-minute necessities. As the hours ticked away, his wife grew anxious for he had, gone since 8 O’clock in the morning and hadn’t returned till even 10 O’clock in the night. Every now and then, she looked towards the door, while her near and dear ones engrossed themselves in work and trifling matters pertaining to the marriage, alternating it with jokes and gossips. Their loud voices and merry talks seemed to drown the voice of the rain and thunder that lashed outside. At half past eleven, Ghoshal Babu came, fully drenched, forming a pool of water around him in their drawing room as the water dripped from his clothes. Anxiety was written all over his face, and the cheerful air enveloping him all these days was missing.

“What’s up? You don’t seem very pleased,” Ketaki said casually, handing him a hot cup of tea. She didn’t expect a negative answer.

“I’ve heard some unsavoury news and it has disturbed me a bit”. His face was grim.

Ketaki’s heart stopped beating for a moment. Then she felt her heart sinking within herself. She dreaded hearing the bad news, yet she mustered up courage and whispered. “What’s it?” Lest her relatives might overhear their conversation.

“Our son-in-law drinks a lot. His two unmarried sisters aren’t very agreeable either. That’s what I hear”.

“O, that” Maya’s mother seemed relieved. “After all, who doesn’t drink these days?” Her rhetorical question was answered by a short grumph.

“Still I think we ought to break off the marriage”. Maya’s father said decisively. “O no!” his wife hissed loudly, fully aghast at such an idea. And then, realising that her relatives might overhear, she lowered her voice and spoke in hushed tones. “Our Maya has already been anointed as a bride. Even if the marriage breaks off no one will marry her again. And then, we can never show our faces in the society, again. Whatever will people say?”

“But her whole life will be ruined”. declared her husband.

“Rubbish! Maya is clever enough to tackle her husband, and mark my words, she’ll soon make him give up his drinking ways” Mama was very optimistic. Meanwhile, it rained incessantly throughout the night as if the heavens had vowed with a vengeance that it would clean itself of all waters. And true enough in the morning a brilliant sun shone down on the earth and while the grass, flowers and leaves glowed with a new, shiny and glistening look, the drums beating and the wail of shehnai in Maya’s house seemed to clamour to all the earth and heavens above that another young bride would be leaving her parents’ home that day.

Maya woke up quite late in the morning, with a feeling of nausea and pain in her stomach. She knew it was a special day for her and her parents and she prayed fervently to God that everything would come off well. She had been eating the maidenhood feast in several homes all these days, and this had upset her health. She looked sad and fagged out. Her aunts and uncles knowing of her loose bowels, gave her a glass of sherbet to drink, and the next thing Maya knew was that she was forced to gulp down two or three pills. “Now, Maya, go and lie down on the bed and take as much rest as possible. You are supposed to be on fast today. And do try to sleep.” One of them said, quite sternly, yet affectionately. She hoped Maya would feel and look better in the evening when the bridegroom’s hand would be tied with hers, and they’d be pronounced man and wife forever.

“Aunty, if my friends come in the morning, receive them well”.

Maya’s words brought her back to the present and she replied “we’ll receive them and attend to them, don’t worry”.

The sun set beyond the hills, evening came and with the evening came the invitees, who were well received and satisfied with delicious Indian cuisine. Evening slipped into night and with it came the bridegroom and his party of men and ladies, the band started playing a popular Hindu film tune and terribly high sounding fireworks lit up the sky for a moment. The girls and ladies rushed outside to have glimpses of the bridegroom and pass comments on his appearance. The various rituals to welcome the son-in-law were performed duly and soon the bridegroom to be was taken into a decorated and sweet scented room. There, he immediately sat down on a thick bed sprawled out on the floor, with his back leaning against the wall.

Exactly at 2 a.m. in the night, the nuptial knot between Maya and Shekhar was tied, pronouncing them husband and wife forever. Maya went through the whole ceremony, as if in a daze. She felt indifferent to all that was happening around and she kept chanting God’s name in her mind, for she had been told that invoking the name of the Lord in crucial periods saves one from all troubles. On the altar, amidst chanting of vedic rhymes and performance of marriage rituals, Maya had looked up at Shekhar only once. Their eyes met, and then shyly. She lowered her eyelids. In that moment, she felt a strange bond with him, as though all the powers of the universe had joined hands, together to bring about their union.

And then came the most painful moment for Maya, the time of parting from her parents. It was 9 O’clock in the morning and the sun was quite high and beat down mercilessly on the earth. The guests who had come along with the bridegroom had been well fed. Maya’s husband and his parents were in a hurry to take her quickly to their home, claiming entire possession over her as though she was an object they had bought from the market, which they could use in any way they liked.

“Ghoshal Babu, please don’t delay. The sun is getting hotter and we have to travel quite a long way to the town”. Maya’s father-in-law said. He did not seem to be very pleased with the way his guests had been treated, though Maya’s father had taken special care to see that their needs were catered to.

Many of Ghoshal Babu’s relatives and some of Maya’s friends had gathered at the gateway to witness the farewell. But Maya was oblivious of everything. It seemed to her as though her whole world of love and security came crackling into pieces. She clung to her father and wept fiercely, the tears wetting his shoulders, crying out “O Papa. O’ Papa” all the while.

“Don’t cry. Maya,” her father consoled. Even while saying and clutching both the palms of Maya’s father-in-law, he begged. “O Sarkar Babu, take care of Maya, please. She’s our only issue and the apple of our eye”.

Meanwhile, mother and daughter clung to each other tightly and cried and cried, till both of them fainted. Water was sprinkled on them, while some of the relatives kept fanning them with the ends of their saris. When they came around, Maya’s father-in-law literally snatched Maya out of her mother’s protective embrace and pulled her towards the back door of the car. Her husband and his sisters were already sitting inside. “Let’s go”, Sarkar Babu said angrily, addressing no one in particular, “don’t like such scenes”. As the car trudged up the hill, Maya remained staring back at her parents, straining her eyes hard to catch final glimpses of them standing at the gate. The car sped quickly, but Maya was still crying at the thought of leaving behind for ever the sweet and dear little beautiful green village which had been her home and hearth for twenty six years.

“Wipe off your tears, and pull down the veil a little more over your face”, commanded her elder sister in law who was by her side. “Now you are no longer a daughter but a daughter in law”. She added quite sternly.

Maya obediently brushed off the tears with her fingers, stopped weeping and hung down her head in shame for being reprimanded. 15

A new chapter opened in Maya’s life. On her “Suhaagraat” night, she sat on the cot decorated with ornaments and flowers and scented with perfume. She looked ravishing, draped in a red Benarasi Saree with a big red bindi on the forehead and a broad crimson line of sindoor on the parting of her hair. A sweet fragrance of jasmine emanated from her and seemed to flood the entire room .It was drizzling and the pitter patter of the rain seemed to echo the steady beating of her heart, as she waited expectantly for her husband to enter the room. Thoughts of her parents had receded to a small corner of her heart and mind, and apprehensions about her husband had taken its place. She wondered what kind of a person he was, whether he would love her, whether he would satisfy her sexually, what sex would be like with him, and so on. She glanced at the wall-clock and it was already one O’clock in the night. Yet her husband hadn’t come. Anxiety and apprehension gave way to fear. She went to the window and stared at the falling rain, and the vast expanse of the night stretching far beyond. Happineess seemed to elude her like a cloud, which appears so near, and then fades away. She remained standing there and when he didn’t turn up for a long time, she went to lie down on the bed strewn with flowers, her silver anklets tinkling as she walked. Hardly had her eyes dropped into sleep when she was awakened by the noise of footsteps approaching the door. The door knobs turned and she rushed up, ran and stood in a corner of the room, her face downwards.

As he staggered in, the intoxicating smell of whisky wafted into her nose and mingled with the heady scent of jasmine. It created a nauseating odour. Maya hopefully imagined he would come upto her, lift up her face, look deep into her eyes, plant a kiss, pace her to the bed, pour sweet nothings in her ears, and discover the joy of love-making with an innocent and unexplored virgin. After some time, her neck began to ache from having to look down so much, yet he didn’t come closer. She looked up and what she saw made her stare at him in dismay. He lay stretched alongside the bed snoring loudly, his legs apart, his dhoti drawn up above his knees, revealing heavy and strong built legs. “O God”! She thought, “whom have I married ! A dead drunkard’’ And she sank down on the floor, her hands on her head. Gradually, the sweet smell of jasmine was completely drowned by the spirited smell of whisky, breathed out of his nose and mouth as he snored .The smell was intolerable to Maya, and she felt like vomiting. But being terribly shocked, all her energy had waned away and she could not even walk up to the window to get rid of that nausea. Ultimately, sleep overcame her tried body, and she slumped there on the bare floor and fell asleep.

In the morning Maya woke up, feeling strange and unknown in an alien place. Her husband had already gone out of the bedroom She became aware that it was her third day at her in-laws place, and she rushed to the attached bathroom to finish her morning ablutions. Donning a brighly coloured pink cotton saree, she walked with soft, halting steps into the kitchen. Her sister-in-law was already there lighting the gas stove to set water for tea “didi, shall I help”? She asked shyly. Maya half expected her sister-in-law to say sweetly “No, My dear I’ll do it”, for she had heard that for eight days after the marriage the new bride is generally not allowed to do any household chores.

“Why help? You ought to do it yourself,” her sister-in-law said rudely and walked out of the kitchen.

And then it was an endless succession of chores for Maya, cooking rice and curry, packing tiffin for her two office going sisters-in-law, serving her father-in-law breakfast, and so on. It was obvious to Maya that what her parents-in-law wanted was a servant to do the cooking, rather than a wife for their son. She saw her husband coming out from somewhere and demanding tea. The intoxication of drinks had left him. He seemed to be quite normal. Immediately, Maya got up to offer him tea. But her mother-in-law intervened, ‘you needn’t go” she-said. “He’ll get angry. Hand me over the cup. I’ll give it to him” .Maya couldn’t imagine as to why her husband would be angry with her. Throughout the day she went about doing her chores, with numbness, as if in a daze. She wanted to feel her husband, touch him, talk to him but it was not to be. In her subconscious, she cursed her parents for thrusting her upon a drunken bloke, yet she wanted to be loved by him. Her hands and legs ached with having to hurry to and fro and wielding the ladle while cooking in the pan, but it also ached for sexual appeasement. She hoped the night would not be the same as the previous night.

Night came. A pale moon shone overhead and there was the noise of an owl hooting somewhere in the distance, communicating ominous and eerie suggestions in Maya’s mind. However, nothing new happened, it was the same as the previous day. Her husband came and spread himself on the bed and immediately fell asleep, his mouth half-open. Ugh! The smell of wine made her head reel,but she dared not go near him, lest she vomit on the bed itself. Her sense of middle class morality made her revolt against this obnoxious drink and behaviour. From a distance, she stared at him, lying so helpless and vulnerable and admired his fair, handsome features. If only he were like other husbands, who were not so indifferent to their wives, she thought. She remained looking at him for a long time and imagined he was drowning himself in the ocean of death, for if he would drink at this rate, he’d certainly die soon. Maya realised it was her duty, as his wife, to pull him out of this abyss of drinks, decay and destruction. Being determined to achieve this end and considering it a challenge to fate, her tired mind and body bent down on the hard floor to fall asleep.

Three more days and nights passed away, and yet he was not at all inclined towards Maya. Not even once did he think of Maya or her disheartened feelings. In the day time, he slogged in the office, but at night, he slept like a log heavily drunk. But he flashed in upon Maya’s sensitive mind’s eye at times, as she lost herself in household chores, and she decided she would make him a normal man once again. She took it up as a challenge which life had thrust upon her and she was determined to accomplish her mission of making him a good husband. That night she would make an attempt at talking with him for by now, she had become used to the smell of whisky and it no longer sent her head reeling.

The clock struck twelve and Maya, after having cooked and served the night meal to all and cleaned the kitchen, got up to have a bath, for the continuous perspiration made her feel sticky and uncomfortable. Her husband came in just then, straddling and lurching forward and straight away went, into his room without demanding dinner, which he generally did. When Maya entered the room a little later smelling slightly of perfume, he lay there as usual, his chest heaving up and down in loud snores. The warm summer night flowed into the room and created a magical romance in Maya’s mind. Bracing herself up to the situation of taming a wayward husband, she went and touched his legs. He made no sign of becoming conscious, and she shook him violently, as if to arouse him into wakefulness. His drooping eyes half opened and he said in a gruff voice.

“What’s the matter? Why are you disturbing me ?”

Maya liked his manly rone “Er………! let me massage your tired legs”. Maya spoke softly’

“No. I don’t want to be massaged. Go away !” Saying this, her husband rolled over to the other side of the double bed, tearing his legs away from Maya’s reach.

At that moment Maya hated him. Her sense of dignity made her want to end the matter there itself and move away but still, she kept on trying hard to prevail upon him “But But…… You are my husband and I ought to take care of you”, Maya stammered

“What husband!” He sat up, stared at her, and bringing his face close to hers, he shouted “I never wanted to be your husband, you fool”. Then he fell back on the bed once again.

Maya felt hurt and wanted to hurt him too. She was glad that now he was fully awake. “You ought not to drink so much. If not, you’ll kill yourself”, she said.

It was as if an arrow had struck his heart. He got up, his eyes bloodshot with anger and it seemed as though the whole bed vibrated with his anger. He roared at Maya like a fierce lion. “How dare you tell me not to drink? Am I drinking with your money? And thinking of my death even before you have passed eight nights with me. I’ll give you a good thrashing for it”. Maya was too shocked and frightened to speak. She ran to a corner, like a deer fleeing from the hunter. But her husband pounced upon her, and pulling a belt from the hanger, he started whipping her. Whack whack ! She shrieked and howled with pain. She pleaded, falling at his knees. “Don’t beat me, please. I’ll never say anything again”. His sisters-in-law woke up and rushed upstairs, but they just looked on, through the window with a sadistic grin, while her parents-in-law hammered the door with their hands and called loudly. “Shekhar, Shekhar, stop whipping her, please open the door”. After Shekhar’s anger had been spent, he threw down the belt and staggered to the bed. There were stripe marks all over Maya’s hand and when her eyes fell on them, she felt and seethed with anger within. But she knew she could not raise a finger against Shekhar for he was strong and stout and would simply crush her. She felt she was as helpless as a bird fluttering its wings in vain inside a cage. If only she was at home with her parents and had never got married, Maya wished; and decided she would never come back once she went to her father’s house.

Three more days and nights slipped away and not a word or touch passed between the newly-wed husband and wife. On the fourth day of this terrible tharshing incident. Maya was drying clothes in the courtyard, when she saw her father entering the drawing room. O’ how glad she felt. Her heart sang with joy. Leaving her work undone, she went running to him. “Papa, Papa!” She exclaimed gleefully, and then doing pranam, she flung her arms around him and pleaded. “Papa, take me away from here, please, Papa.” And then it seemed as though the gates of her eye dams, which had been closed ever since she had come to her in-laws as a bride, opened all of a sudden, and the flood of tears started coursing down her cheeks.

Her Papa, putting down the packet of sweetmeats and his bag on the bare chair nearby, patted her back and soothed her. “Yes, Maya I’ve come to take you home for some days. And come on, be a good girl and don’t sob like this. Now, tell me what’s the matter.”

Just then, Maya’s mother-in-law, who had come in, intervened ,“It’s nothing. The truth is that she’s been missing you and your wife all these days, and has been crying a lot. Besides, being your only daughter, she is not accustomed to do the household chores, which she has to do here. Of course we help her.”

Maya stared unabashed at her mother-in-law. “Papa, it’s a lie’ she stated. It was as though her Papa’s arrival had infused a new strength into her blood and veins. “I’ll tell you everything when I go out of here.”

But her mother-in-law was not to be subdued “But Maya”, she said sweetly, “You can not go now. There are certain problems”.

Maya gave no reply. She just kept on telling her father “Papa, take me away, please!”

It was evident to Ghoshal Babu that Maya was not happy as a newly- wed bride. He had come here to know as to why his daughter and son-in- law hadn’t turned up for the ‘Ashta Mangala’ ceremony (the eighth day function). All these days, he was also wondering how his daughter was getting along in her new home. But seeing Maya’s pale, sad and tear- stricken face, looking at her thin body and observing the bruises that had blackened on her hands, something pulled at his heartstrings. He realised all was not well with Maya and decided to take her home.

After the initial formalities pertaining to the reception of an important guest, like serving snacks, and then presenting a dhoti to Maya’s father, (because this was his first visit after daughter’s marriage) Maya’s father announced. “And now Maya, are you ready? Let’s be going. By the way, where’s Shekhar, my son-in-law? I want to see him”.

“He’s gone to the office”, Maya’s father-in-law quipped.

There were certain objections to Maya’s going to her father’s place, but Ghoshal Babu brushed aside all of them and was determined to take Maya away. Inwardly, he felt responsible for knowingly inflicting such untold suffering on Maya. He was tormented with a great sense of guilt and did not converse much with her in-laws. 16

Maya was only too delighted to be out with her father once again. It was like breathing fresh air after a long spell in jail. It was a bright sunny afternoon at two O’ clock but a strong wind blowing, somehow alleviated the scorching heat of the sun. As father and daughter sped in the bus through many hamlets, Papa just asked casually. “Well Maya, tell me what exactly happened in your in-laws place”.

Maya was looking out through the window. The sun and the wind were simultaneously slapping her face, yet she felt as gay and light hearted as her bobbed hair that was dancing around her ears and shoulders. She had locked up her box of woes in her in-laws place and had not wanted to open ,it lest, it spoil her care free mood: yet, she had to answer her father. Maya earned to him and said “Papa, they are horrible people ! My husband drinks like hell and hasn’t talked to me even once. My mother-in-law and sister-in-law do not even give me sufficient food to eat. The other day Shekhar whipped me with a belt till I had turned blue. Look, the marks are still there”. Thrusting one hand forward, she pointed at the bruises. Papa remained quiet. The sword of guilt seemed to be cutting his heart into two. Just then, the bus stopped at a way-side village.

“Look Papa, there’s the channa and nut vendor. Bring some for me, please Papa, I haven’t eaten channa for so many days.”

Papa laughed, even through his feeling of guilt. “Really, Maya, you’re still a child”. He got down and came back with packet of channa and nuts.

Maya munched the nuts gleefully as the bus headed towards their village. She enjoyed the lush greenery, the dark, distant woods and the twittering of the birds near the canal water. They seemed to be inviting her to come and enjoy the sweet evening air. In one field, she saw a man and a woman gleaning corn stalks together, and laughing as if at a joke. How lucky and happy they are ! She thought, “If only my husband was good and loving !” And than she remembered her mother, who had told her one day that what a woman wants is peace and affection, and not money. “How right Mama was !” She exclaimed to herself.

Mama was overjoyed on seeing Maya at the gate. But when Maya came closer, her face fell, “Gosh, Maya !” Mama was indeed surprised. “You look so sick and pale. Your eyes are completely sunken and there are dark shadows under it too. What’s the matter?’’

Maya quickly put down the suitcase, and hugging her mother, cried out. “O Mama, I’m so glad to be back, really !” But Mama felt unhappy. She looked at Maya and thought Maya lacked the bubbling vivaciousness of a newly-wed bride who talks nineteen to the dozen about her new home, husband, relations and surroundings. Instead, Mama thought, Maya looked a pale replica of her former self and her eyes looked sad. However, Maya could not sense the under current grief and melancholic cross-crossings in her mother’s mind. She was taking full delight in her home-coming after twelve days, which had seemed ages to her. She rushed to the sofa and reclining on it, announced. “Dear Mama, first bring me the fried potatoes and the curry which you have cooked. I’m famished! And I haven’t eaten your hand-cooked meal for days!”

Her mother laughed. “I wish I had known you were coming, dear, Then, I would have cooked your favourite ‘Kheer’. Anyway, I’m sure you must have eaten many special items in your in-laws.” Maya felt disgusted on hearing this.

“O mama, please don’t ask me about them. They’re cruel people. You’ll be sad to know that they haven’t even given me three proper meals a day till now.”

It was painful for her mother to hear this. Deep within her conscience, she felt the sword of guilt pricking her. Then she asked “What about your husband. Maya? Doesn’t he object to such ill-treatment being meted out to you by his mother ?”

Maya sat up. Her Papa, sitting in a chair and sipping a cup of tea, looked at her. “Mama, he’s worse. He drinks too much everyday and stinks horribly. Six days ago, he beat me so hard that I almost fainted. Look, the marks are still there I” Maya said, thrusting out her hands and showing her back.

Tears sprang up in her mother’s eyes, for she had never expected her darling daughter to be whipped like this; but Maya quickly retrieved the situation.

“O, Mama, come on now, don’t be so sentimental. I certainly don’t want to see tears in your eyes today. If my luck is bad one can’t help it. I don’t want to feel sad today when I’ve come back to you. I’ll be happy if only you don’t send me away any more and allow me to stay near you for ever and ever.” Maya said, hugging her mother.

Even through her tears, Ketaki smiled. But inwardly, her heart seemed to be gradually eaten away by a worm as she looked into Maya’s unhappy fate. Drawing Maya close to herself, she said. “Okay, Maya, you’ll stay near me for ever and ever”.

Ketaki soon brought in a simple meal, consisting of two chappatis. dalma and some pieces of fried potatoes, but to Maya, it tasted as delicious and sweet as nectar. Maya then gaily skipped off to meet some of her friends, most of whom were married. Her mother, had of course, warned her not to reveal the unsavoury facts about her husband to her friends.

After about an hour or so. Maya came back, feeling disappointed. She was quite angry too. “Mama” she cried apparently disgusted. “Wherever I go, those aunties who were so fond of me. keep asking me about my husband and my in-laws. They have completely forgotten me as Maya the girl, and see me only as Maya, the wife and daughter-in-law. I really hate it! As if I don’t have an identity of my own”!. And then, she walked off to the bedroom.

Mama realised that these were only the beginning of a long series of unending questions asked by the Indian society, to a married woman who stays away from her husband. Rather than being dogged by such questions which would throttle Maya, devour her and ultimately kill her’ It’d be better if Maya went back to her husband, Mama thought. She hoped Maya would succeed in turning her husband into a new leaf.

Maya’s mother grew anxious about Maya’s growing indifference to her husband, which she considered an unhealthy sign. And just when she was beginning to get really worried. Maya one day came rushing into the kitchen and announced.

“Mama, Mama, he has come”.

“Who ?” Mama asked casually hoping it was her son-in-law.

“Shekhar”. Maya said and quickly ran upstairs to continue reading the book. Maya was surprised to realise that she did not feel the slightest affection for her husband.

It was a Sunday afternoon and Shekhar found relief from the glaring hot and blazing sun as he made himself comfortable in his father-in-law’s drawing room, with the fan whirring above his head. The familiar colours and smells of a summer morning pervaded the air. Shekhar wiped off the beads of perspiration which clung to his face and just then his mother-in- law came in with a cup of tea and some snacks. Taking the cup of tea and keeping it on the table, Shekhar handed over the packet of sweets and new clothes (because this was his first visit to his father-in-law’s house after marriage) which he had brought for both his parents-in-law.

“Well, Shekhar”, Ketaki asked smiling. “How are your parents ?”

He had quite a pleasing personality, his mother-in-law thought and she wondered why Maya didn’t take to him at all .Shekhar reflected the smile and answered. “Father’s Okay, but Ma is ailing a bit. Actually, we all miss Maya a lot and therefore. I’ve come to take her home.”

Maya’s father sauntered in with a bagful of vegetables. Shekhar got up to do ‘Pranam’ but his father-in-law gestured to him to sit down. He also smiled and said. “Well Shekhar. I hope you and your parents are well”. And then, with a frown on his face, he continued, “Anyway, where’s Maya? Doesn’t she know that you have come?” Going to the foot of the staircase, he called out, “Maya, Shekhar has come, do come down immediately”. Maya dropped the book on the bed and rushed obediently down the stairs. She pretended as though she had n’t known of Shekhar’s arrival.

Shekhar grinned sheepishly at her and said,” Well, I’ve come to take you home.”

The parents left the room, leaving the newly married couple to themselves.

Maya sat on the chair opposite to Shekhar. She frowned and said stubbornly. “I’m not going with you.”

“But why, Maya ?” Shekhar stopped grinning and seemed to be surprised “After all you are my wife and I’m your husband. And I’ve a right to take you”.

“You….. a husband !” Maya laughed sarcastically. She got up and paced up and down the room and then pointing her finger at Shekhar, she cried out “I never wanted to be your wife. You fool; do you forget the night you thrashed me?” Disgust was written on her face.

Shekhar got up from the sofa and clasped Maya’s , “Maya, please forgive me. Just give me one more chance. I promise I’ll try to give up drinking and be as good to you as possible”.

Maya was visibly perturbed. She snatched off her hands and shouted with scorn. “Don’t touch me. I don’t believe a word of you and I hate you, your parents and your . They make me work like a servant”. And then cooling down, she said “I’m not going and that is final’. Her loud voice brought her parents into the room.

“What’s this Maya? Why are you quarrelling with Shekhar ?” Mama rebuked her.

“Mama, I’m not quarreling, I just told him that I won’t be going to that horrid house again”. Maya said, “What rubbish”! Ketaki shouted angrily. “That’s your real home and you ought to go there. Besides, a wife should not stay away from her husband for too long . Don’t we quarrel, your father and me? Yet we’ve been staying together for the last thirty years”.

Shekhar remained quiet, knowing well enough that the cards, were in his favour.

“Mama, you don’t understand” Maya said exasperated, trying to convince her mother. “He’s not at all like Papa, he’s horrible. He drinks heavily and beats me. Mama; to be frank he hasn’t slept with me even once nor did he have sex with me”. Maya added, unabashedly, knowing well enough, she was crossing the limits of decency, for according to Indian standards of middle class morality a daughter shouldn’t say such things in the presence of a father

“Maya”, Her mother thundered, “you’ve lost your sense of place and person. You don’t know what you are saying and to whom. Now get ready and pack up your things. And kindly pack the bag of sweets, mixture, pickles and papad which I’ve kept on the table”.

“I won’t go. “Maya said obstinately, stamping her foot; then running to her father and clasping his neck, she pleaded, “Papa, please don’t send me away, please Papa. Mama just doesn’t know anything of my predicament there, please, Papa”.

Papa just patted her back and soothed her .“Maya, go this time, if anything worse, happens. I’ll bring you back. I promise”.

Maya remained quiet, but her face was grim. Soon bag, baggage and the newly weds were huddled into a rickshaw, whose destination was the bus stand. As Maya sat in the rickshaw, ready to leave, her mother came close up to her and fighting back the tears, said “Maya, don’t misunderstand me. I only want your happiness and I know a woman will be happy only if her husband is near her”.

But Maya did not like to see her mother crying not did she herself feel like crying. The fire of suffering and endurance had evaporated all her tears. She smiled and said. “Do visit our house very soon, Mama, you and Papa, Good bye”.

It was already four O’ clock in the afternoon when they boarded the bus, but a hot sun still blazed down upon the parched earth.

As the bus rushed past village, fields, rivers, ponds, canals young girls gathering around to gossip near the village well and an old lady shitting in a bare field, hope flooded up within Maya’s hearts. She shifted away a bit from the window, and nudged herself closer to her husband, putting her hand on his thighs.

“Behave yourself. This is a bus and not your home”. He glared angrily at her as he whispered loudly.

Like the rise and fall of the tide, hope sank down within Maya’s breast. She felt frightened, apprehending some great danger threatening her. After about a two-hours journey, the couple reached their home. 17

Maya’s parents-in-law and sister-in-law were visibly relieved on seeing her. During her short stay there for eleven days, Maya had proved herself a good cook and had displayed a zealous capability of doing innumerable household chores tirelessly. Her quiet but busy presence had been terribly missed by them when she had gone to her parents, for they had become used to plenty of rest. A little affection for Maya had brewed up within them during those few days.

On reaching home that day, Maya silently and immediately took over the charge of cooking and other sundry household affairs, while the two sisters lazily lolled in the cots at night fall, after their hard day’s work in the office.

After Maya had freshened up herself with a bath, she waited anxiously and eagerly for her husband in the the bedroom upstairs. She did not feel frightened, rather she yearned to have sex with Shekhar, to feel his hard hands caressing her soft breasts. She longed for sexual intercourse with him and tingled with excitement at the thought. She hoped Shekhar would relent and comply with her desire, at least for one night.

Quite late, in the night. Shekhar came staggering, the smell of whisky emanating as if out of his whole being. His eyes were bloodshot and red with anger, and one look at him, made Maya almost faint with fear, for he looked like, a mad snake hissing at her, a fuming giant ready to devour her. However, Maya picked up courage and ran to a corner. Shekhar approached her, taking off his belt from his waist, and hissing contemptuously at her. “You bitch, calling me a fool and a drunkard. Disgracing me at your parents home, I’ II teach you a lesson”, saying this, he began whipping Maya mercilessly. Crack, Crack. The sound of the whipping disturbed the restful slumber of his parents and sisters. They came rushing upstairs and banged the door. “Shekhar, open the door, don t beat her” his parents shouted. By now. Maya was flaring with anger. As the belt came flying to fall on her body again, she caught hold of it and pulled. Shekhar fell down at her feet, she kicked him violently so that he rolled over to the other side, and then she ran to open the door. She had just pulled down the latch when Shekhar, coming up from behind, pulled her towards him and dug his palms deep into her throat intending to throttle her to death. He was raging with a mad fury. “Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her.” His parents rushed in and shouted frantically, trying to release Shekhar’s monstrously strong palms off Maya’s throat. Maya felt the whole world swimming around her and she herself was sinking into the abyss of death. She was sure she’d die, and she wanted to cry out. “O God” “O Mama” but she couldn’t, for already her tongue was beginning to protrude out and her eye balls were already popping out of their sockets. Just then parents and sisters were successful in releasing Maya from Shekhar’s grip. Maya immediately passed out and fell on the ground. She remained in bed for almost six days, during which her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law gradually and tenderly nursed her to normalcy. Once on the road to recovery. Maya quietly and obediently went around doing her usual household duties, like washing clothes, cooking and serving food, but the sight of Shekhar sent her crouching with fear, like a mouse, to a corner of the kitchen or behind the door. “Didi, I won’t sleep in that room where your brother sleeps. I’ll sleep near you as I have been doing all these days”. Maya told her sister-in-law.

“Of course you’ll sleep near us” .Both of them consoled Maya and laughed. It was as if a common bond of sympathy held the three women together.

The parents had forced marriage upon their son, hoping a good wife would cure him of his drunken ways. Besides, their two daughters remained spinsters, preferring their office work to everything else, so they thought Shekhar’s sweet children would satisfy their desire of being grand –parents. Now they realised they were mistaken, for they were sure Shekhar would drink himself to death. However, they were glad that they had found a good servant in Maya. She did everything that was expected of her, meekly and docilely, and gradually they began to hate her less, and dislike Shekhar more. Maya sometimes wondered why her parents weren’t coming to see her, but she never raised up the question of going to her parent’s home. She was sure her mother-in-law would say a blunt “no. who’ll take you?” she would say. Maya knew that if she went the burden of doing most of the household chores would fall on her mother-in-law’s shoulders, and therefore she would never allow Maya to leave her. After two months of waiting anxiously each day for her parent’s visit, Maya gave up all hopes of their coming. They did not have a phone, nor was she allowed to write letters. She imagined they had forgotten her, and this thought gnawed at her heart like a worm slowly chewing away the leaf.

Ghosal Babu came after five months of Maya’s stay at her in-laws. One day, after a bath, Maya was shedding off the last drops of water from her hair under a mild wintry sun, when her mother-in-law announced.

“Maya, your father has come,”

Maya hung the towel on the wire and ran happily downstairs. “O Papa”, she cried. “Why hadn’t you come all these days?”

Ghosal Babu stared at Maya, astonished, “Maya, what has happened to you, you look so thin and dark, haven’t you been well?”

“Papa, you too look thin and dark, weren’t you well either?” Maya said, and both of them laughed.

Maya’s father-in-law was sitting nearby in the sofa and said, “Well well, father and daughter accusing each other of ill-health”.

He too smiled and then Ghosal Babu said, “Actually three months ago, I had thought of coming when all of a sudden I fell sick and then suffered from acute typhoid. And just when I recovered, Maya’s mother too began suffering from typhoid. Now that both of us are well and I’ve come to take Maya home for some months”. Just then Maya’s mother-in- law came in with a cup of tea and some snacks.

“But Maya can’t go now, for this is the month of Kartika (November), and a daughter-in-law should not leave her in-laws place now”, she objected. “What rubbish. I’ve never heard of any such rule at all”. Maya’s father was determined to carry out his decision. “Besides, Maya is looking very sick” he continued, “she ought to undergo medical treatment.”

He had been hearing of Shekhar’s over -drunken ways and ill- treatment of Maya from some of his colleagues whose homes were nearby, and all his paternal affection rose up to the occasion.

Soon, father and daughter were ready to leave. Shekhar and his sister were in their respective offices, and therefore, only Maya’s parents-in-law stood at the gate to bid her goodbye. They waved sadly at Maya, as the sight of their rickshaw grew fainter and fainter. Shekhar’s parents were full of sorrow. The light of their house had gone. If only Shekhar had been a well brought-up man. then Maya would not have left them lonely and forsaken, striving, and struggling from morn till night while their three children strove away in their offices.

Maya was delighted to be going to her parent’s home once again. She felt gay as a bird, happy like a prisoner who has been released from jail. The bright afternoon wintry sun brought a little colour to her pale cheeks. As the wind blew her hair about her face, she fell as though she was breathing fresh air again, as if a new life had entered into her veins. She wanted to forget the miserable days In Shekhar’s house and leave the past completely behind her but her father brought up the topic as they sat in the rickshaw, heading towards the bus stop. “Does he ill treat you too much, my dear? You look miserable.”

“Papa, ill treat me !” Maya exclaimed.” He wanted to murder me the night I came”, her voice rose and then softened. “After that I’ve always kept away from him”.

Her father become thoughtful and seemed to be lost somewhere. Observing it, Maya smiled and said. “Papa, why cry over spilt milk, whatever was there in my luck, I suffered. Thank God Shekhar’s parents intervened and saved my life or else you wouldn’t have seen your dear daughter today. Papa, and now I think it is obvious to you that I’ll never come back again.” Maya squinted her eyes and said decisively. “Sure, I’ll never send you back again. Let’s see what I can do for you.” Her father took it up as a challenge. After a two hours journey, they reached home.

Taking off her slippers, Maya straightaway lay down on the sofa stretching her hands and legs wide apart. “O Mama” she said gaily, “it’s wonderful to be back again. So much work there, cooking, washing, cleaning, sweeping, my arms and legs are tired and I really need rest”.

“Don’t they have a maid servant, my dear?” Mama asked.

“Mama, you can’t imagine what great misers they are. The sisters try to save their money, while Shekhar wastes it in drinks. And even if a maid- servant does get appointed, they nag her so much that she is forced to leave.”

“Any way, wash your hands and legs and sit down to eat, you must be very hungry, Maya”, Mother said.

The sun was just setting and it cast a beautiful golden glow over the whole village. Children were returning from the playground while the birds flew in groups over the rivers to return to their nests. A wonderful peace had descended upon the sweet countryside and in Maya’s soul as she silently ate the delicious supper consisting of puree, fried potatoes and brinjal, dal, and Kheer, all cooked by her mother. After that, she went upstairs and slept soundly throughout the night, deliberately, whisking off all painful thoughts from her mind.

Some more nights of sleep and rest followed. The days were wonderful too. Maya was quite gay and carefree, visiting her friends, eating to her heart’s content, taking short naps in quiet afternoons, and enjoying the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of the village, as in the evening, she watched the sun sinking into the river. But her parents at times, could not get a wink of sleep at night, worrying about her future. The fact that she would never go back to Shekhar and his parents, was as clear as daylight. One morning, while Maya was having her breakfast her mother- announced. “Maya, your mother-in-law has written’that Shekhar will be coming to take you next week”.

Maya stopped eating . Her eyes shot with anger. “Mama, how many times have I told you not to discuss Shekhar with me. I hate him and his whole lot of relatives. Inform her that I’m never going back and therefore Shekhar need not come at all.”

“But Maya”, her mother tried to cool down her anger. “Do be sensible and practical, Okay, you won’t go, for even if you change your mind and would like to go, I’ll never send you back, for I know Shekhar, in a fit of drunken bout, may kill you any day, once he’s already made an attempt. But at least, you ought to get a divorce from Shekhar, so that you can get married to someone else.”

Maya seemed to be exasperated. “O Mama, is marriage the be-all and end-all of a woman’s life? My sister-in-law and so many other ladies are spinsters, can’t I remain single? Anyway, one marriage has been enough, and I don’t want it to happen again”.

“What’s the harm in getting a divorce ?” her mother pursued .

“I don’t want to enter into litigations, lawyers, courts, meeting Shekhar again, arguing with him in the courts etc.” Maya said, “I hate it all, Mama. Just leave me alone and I’ll be happy”.

“But what will people say. Maya” her mother said. “You’ll become an object of pity in the village, and the villagers will say so many cruel things to you, and to us for not seeing you settled down”.

By now Maya was really disgusted. “Mama, why are you always afraid of what people will say? Should we always lead our lives according to what people say, can’t we live our life according to our own wish? And even if people do say something ill of us, does it matter at all? Mama, don’t be so silly as to keep worrying about such stupid notions. Life is too short to waste it by bothering about such insignificant matters.” Maya rose up to go, leaving behind the half -eaten breakfast. Her mother was truly apologetic. “Maya, I’m sorry I discussed such things with you. Do what you think best. It’s just that 1 can’t bear to see you unhappy. Anyway, be a good girl and finish up your breakfast.”

Maya smiled and , “I’m not in the least unhappy here. But I can’t eat any more”. And she ran away, picking up the cardigan from the sofa and wearing it.

It was a cold wintry morning, though a bright sun was shining over head in a clear blue sky. As Maya strolled down the road, she admired the bright-coloured butterflies fluttering about among the sweet-scented flowers. Somewhere, from afar, the droning hum of the honeybees came sailing into her ears. She loved it all and all her affection for the village brimmed up in her heart. The sight of that dilapidated building reminded her of Baba, and reminiscences of the past, of the beautiful moments she had shared with Baba, came flooding to her mind. She walked faster towards that house which had once belonged to Baba, but was now occupied by Prasad uncle.”

Prasad, uncle was watering his plants and was delighted to see Maya. His eyes and face lit up with a smile which brought charm to his aged face, “Hello Maya!” he greeted and then went on to ask “when did you come from your in-laws ?”

“A few days ago”. Maya replied. “By the way, is there any news of Baba? I think it’s fourteen years since he left”.

Prasad uncle’s face saddened. “All these years, I’ve been trying to get some information of him but there’s been none”. He seemed to have lost himself somewhere and his eyes carried a distant look as if it penetrated into the past. “Baba was really a wonderful young man,” and then a tear dropped from his eyes. Maya felt disappointed, if only she knew where her Baba was, she was sure he would help her out of this unfortunate situation.

While Maya’s mother kept on worrying about her daughter’s ill fated luck, though she never expressed it, Ghosal Babu was busy trying to find a job for Maya. He knew it was impossible to find a job in a government office or a Govt. school with a mere B.A. Degree. Ghosal Babu’s colleague who had negotiated Maya’s marriage now felt it was his moral responsibility to help the forsaken lady. His cousin owned a school at Salt Lake in Calcutta and after much letter writing, phone calls to and from Calcutta, the colleague could convince his cousin that he would indeed be doing a great social work by appointing Maya as a teacher in his school, though she lacked the requisite qualification. Thus Maya landed at Calcutta as a teacher in “The Hindu School” one year after her marriage. 18

Maya was amazed and gaped wide at the teeming millions who just seemed to be rushing in and out of Calcutta at Howrah. As for the school, she simply loved it. Situated amidst sprawling well tended garden of many coloured flowers, it looked every-inch a public school, except that, it had no facilities for lodging boarders. Maya had never come out of the seclusion of her home and having to live alone in a big city made her feel the thrill of a real adventure. The owner of the school and his wife instantly took a liking to Maya and allowed her to stay in a sort of outhouse attached to their residential quarters, within the school premises. They were a childless couple and loved the school children as their own.

Maya felt very much at home in this new house. She woke up quite early in the morning and after completing her daily chores and cooking for lunch too, she would eat her breakfast placidly while going through the daily newspaper. Just at hair-past eight she’d lock the door and stroll leisurely, for the bell rang at 9 AM. At lunch break, she came home to gobble up her food and then rush back, and at halt-past four, she’d return from school, slip on to a home wear, have some snacks and lay down on her bed for a late afternoon siesta. In the evenings, she tutored two neighbouring children studying in std. III, for an hour and a half, cooked the night meal and ate it, read some magazines, and then would doze off into a sound sleep. On holidays, Maya busied herself in marketing, washing her clothes, tidying up the house and arranging things in order. Thus, the days passed merrily, wonderfully for her. Maya wondered why ladies ever got married when they could lead such a free and independent life. Here she was, enjoying the love and respect of hundreds of children without bearing the burden, the pain, trouble and trauma of rearing them up.

Ghosal Babu and his wife visited Maya after six months of Maya’s stay at Calcutta and they were glad to see that their dear daughter had put on weight and was looking quite radiant and blooming. They had never hoped that Maya would settle down so happily in her job, and they were glad to see her happy. Yet a mother’s heart imagined that Maya suffered the lack of a husband, and one day. as Maya had just returned from school and her work and was ready to have her late afternoon siesta, her mother said, “Maya, a few days ago Shekhar and his parents had come to take you back. I flatly told them a big ‘No’. Of course , I didn’t tell them about your whereabouts.”

“Mama,” Maya was lying down on the bed, and she turned her face towards her mother “I told you never to discuss Shekhar with me. I really hate him and the whole lot of them”. And then she shut her eyes to sleep.

“But Maya, how long will you remain like this?” Ketaki had not given up persuading Maya “Now that you are young and busy with your work, it’s okay. But as you grow older you’ll feel the need of a husband with whom you can share your joys and sorrows”.

“How very stupid of you ,Mama” Maya exclaimed angrily, getting up “I don’t want to share my experience, nor do I want to depend upon a husband for my own happiness. Can’t you see that I’m very happy here.” And then realising that her mother might feel the tinge of hurt by her rudeness, Maya quickly went and hugged her mother most affectionately. “O Mama” Maya said sweetly “Two unmarried teachers did propose to, me but when I told them I was married and not divorced, they remained quiet” She went to the window and looked out at the field where some children were still playing football even though night had crept in “To be frank, Mama, I don’t want to ever marry again. Rather I’d love to own a school like this, have a car, possess a beautiful house, and be able to travel abroad whenever I wish. Life would be so wonderful then, wouldn’l it. Mama” Maya’s eyes held a peculiar twinkle that her mother could not fathom, and which she thought was dangerous.

“But too much ambition is bad for a young lady”. Ketaki remarked and remained quiet deciding never to interfere in Maya’s life again. But Maya did not hear her mother’s comment. She was already transported and lost in a dream world where she saw herself driving a beautiful car and entering the premises of a big school. Suddenly, she was brought down to earth by the knock of the milkman who had come to deliver milk. Another year passed away, and the ambition which she had planted in her heart, became firmly rooted and now began to grow and spread its branches to her mind. By now, she had saved a small portion of her salary in the post office and her father had promised he would give her some money too, for purchasing a plot of land. Therefore Maya scanned the papers everyday, hoping against hope to spot an advertisement selling land at Calcutta, at a cheap rate. And one day, while browsing through the column “property for sale” her eyes fell on a photograph on the opposite page, and she stared and stared at it for a long time. She just could not take her eyes off it. The same hair, the same piercing deep set eyes and the same calm and composed face. “O my God” Maya exclaimed softly to herself. “Its Baba !”And happiness shone on her face like the sun spreading its rays on the earth after emerging from behind the hills in the morning. Hurriedly she read through the interview on him for it was almost time for the school bell to ring. She reread it.

Q: Your organisation is already ten or twelve years old. Within these ten years, you’ve established schools, old age homes, orphanages and even hospital, what’s the secret of your success?”

Baba (laughs): “I myself don’t know. I think my discourses on the Hindu philosophy, the Gita, Mahabharata, Ramayana, Vedas, Upanishads etc. are very convincing and it is this which attracts my devotees, particularly foreigners. Besides, I teach them the right method of meditation, which brings peace to their disturbed minds. And I also teach them yoga too. With their donations I’ve been able to establish all these, I also think the transcendental meditation which I teach them is very enlightening and illuminating,”

Q: “Yours has been an all-man organisation. Why haven’t you included women as matajis, as other religious orders have done?”

Baba: “As we all know, women have been, the source of all trouble since the beginning of creation. And therefore I haven’t included them, since I don’t want to enter into trouble.”

How wonderful, Maya thought, So Baba had become a Godman, and still called himself Baba .Quickly, Maya noted down from the column the address of Baba’s headquarters at Calcutta, and decided to meet him the following Sunday.

Generally she woke up very late on Sundays, but on that particular day, Maya woke up early, feeling very excited. At about nine o’clock, she was on her way to Chowringhee square which lodged the central office of Baba’s organisation. She boarded a tram and then walked down a distance of one kilometer. It was not difficult for her to locate the three-storey building, for Baba was quite well known there and on inquiring, the male receptionist told her that Baba was holding one of his discourse sessions, and she could go and listen to him. She shot up the flight of stairs to the floor, and she found herself entering a large hall, where almost four hundred people, a hundred of them ladies, sat in silence, listening with rapt attention, their eyes fixed on Baba sitting on a dais, as the rich melodious voice flowed out of his mouth, and invaded every nook and corner of the big room. Maya sat amongst the ladies and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. She just couldn’t, though others looked as though they drank down all his words. If only Baba would look at her once. Maya thought. But for two hours he talked on and on interspersing it with devotional songs, which he himself had composed and which was also accompained by various musical instruments.

The discourse ended with a “Bhajan” which was sung by the audience too, and then Baba went into a private apartment of his own on the second floor followed by a band of his followers. Some of them, all males, wanted to meet Baba personally. His private Secretary, donned in saffron robes jotted down their names and told them they could meet him in the evening when he would hold a personal contact session.

After the crowd had dispersed. Maya ran upstairs to the door which led to a long corridor at the end of which she could barely glimpse a large hall. She stood at the doorway, nervously twiddling her fingers. Soon, a saffron clad sannyasi, approached her. He looked at, her, surprised “Er……….. Can I see Baba for a moment ?” Maya asked, her heart beating wildly.

“Baba does not meet ladies at all”. the Sannyasi stated, and then walked away. Maya saw several saffron clad male sannyasis walking past her to and fro, quizzically raising their eyebrows on seeing her. She heard the same answer from all. “Ladies are not strictly allowed into Baba’s apartment”. By the time Maya had waited for another twenty minutes, her impatience knew no bounds, she was on the verge of tears and was making her exit, when she spotted a plain-clothed short, plump man of around fifty, entering into the corridor. Obviously, he was the cook. He halted, and stared at her with round eyes, astonished.

“Don’t you know this is an all-male organisation ?” he said. “Why are you wasting your time standing here ?”

But Maya did not budge. Holding his hand, she pleaded, “uncle, please tell Baba that Maya wishes to see him, please”.

The man was glad to hear someone call him “uncle” for it gave a personal touch to their relationship.

“Okay” he nodded his head in assent. “Keep waiting here, I’m coming within twenty seconds.”

He seemed to have gone for a long time. Maya glanced at her watch and saw that ten minutes had already ticked by. To her, those ten minutes seemed ten hours. Ultimately the cook did come, his face and eyes beaming as though it was his personal triumph in succeeding to take a lady to meet Baba. “You have succeeded where many others have failed” His eyes glinted with amusement as he remarked in a long drawling accent, “Come, Baba wishes to to meet you personally”.

Soon, Maya was ushered into a tastefully decorated room with photographs of famous saints like Sri Ramakrishna and Vivekananda hanging on the walls. Baba was sitting crosslegged on his bed instructing one of his sanyasins. Looking at him. Maya thought he looked exactly the same, as he was when she had first seen him some fifteen years ago. He did not look a year older than forty years, though he was already fifty-two. It was still the same dhoti-clad Baba, Affection welled up in her heart and reached her eyes in the form of joyful tears. On seeing her, Baba sat transfixed gaping at her, with eyes and mouth wide open. “Why Maya”! Baba ejaculated, astonished, “You’ve really grown into a beautiful young lady. I really can’t believe my eyes: I still hoped to see the sweet little Maya whom I had left years ago”, and laughed aloud at his own joke. “Well, do come in and sit near me”.

“Baba, you are still the same”. Maya said, smiling as she sat near him.

The two other sannyasins looked on simply amazed. They had never seen Baba being so familiar or personal with a lady. As though reading their mind, Baba addressed one of them and said. “Well Nirmohananda, tell Puru to bring some special snacks for my dear little sister whom I’m seeing after so many years”.

“Then the two sannyasis left, realising that Baba would like a little privacy on this happy occasion of a reunion. “Well Maya, tell me what you’ve been doing all these days”. Baba asked “where are you at present? How are your parents? I have so many questions to ask you, really”.

Maya laughed softly. “Actually, Baba at present I’m a sad, forsaken teacher in The Hindu school”.

“Why forsaken?” Baba looked surprised “forsaken by whom?

“My husband, of course” Maya said.

“Then your husband must have been very foolish to forsake a sweet innocent wife like you”.

“O’ Baba, its rather the other way round., I’ve forsaken my husband because he ill-treated me”.

“Well, that’s it”. Baba seemed relieved” I’m sure you aren’t sad, Maya”.

“O’ Baba, not in the least, And now that I’ve found you all my sorrows have flown away with the wind. O Baba, I’m so happy today”. Maya cried joyfully. And then, looking at Baba, she continued “And now, Baba, tell me about yourself”.

“Well, Maya for me, the past is dead and buried. But you seem to have been reborn out of its ashes so as to make my days more pleasant”. Baba said, laughingly and then looked at Maya with a face full of affection.

Maya felt blissful for more than two hours in Baba’s presence. She even partook a little of the lunch served to Baba. They talked on many sundry matters as they ate, and then it was time for Maya to go.

“Come again” Baba called as Maya hurriedly sped down the corridor with a song in her heart, for it was already a quarter to 3 p.m. and the last bus was at 3 O’ Clock.

Maya visited Baba every Sunday, if he was present at Calcutta. Quite often, Baba toured from one state to another, inspecting his schools and other welfare institutions. During his stay at Calcutta, Baba was busy discoursing, giving lesson in meditation and teaching Yoga practices to his disciples. Yet. he found time for Maya whenever she came. And if it became late in the afternoon, Baba would sometimes tell his driver to leave her home.

Maya’s visits to Baba became more frequent and Baba found himself liking it. It satisfied his innate desire for a little sisterly affection from a near one. His devotees and disciples admired him, held him in awe, adored him and worshipped him, but none laid a loving hand on him as Maya did. With Maya, he became his old natural self, and both of them laughed gaily and naturally as they reminisced the good old times they had enjoyed together. His devotees wondered at this peculiar relationship but kept mum. As time passed however, Baba realised that Maya was crossing the bounds of sisterly affection, and decided he must put a stop to Maya’s extra familiar manners. Besides, he had to look to the affairs of his organization and he couldn’t devote much time to Maya, as before. At times, Maya came at odd hours, in the afternoon when Baba was having a nap, or when he was in the midst of his personal contact session and demanded his company. At such times Baba just whisked Maya off with a sharp and stern look. And one day Baba told her “Maya, It’ll be best if you come when I call for you .Then I can give you my company and we can have a merry open hearted talk for an hour or so”.

Baba smiled at her, But Maya did not reflect that smile. She felt hurt and offended. She twitched her upper up sardonically and cried out. “O, so I want an appointment with you. Isn’t it Baba? Well, Baba. I didn’t know you would change so much and disown someone who’s loved you ever since she was a child. Money, power, fame has all gone to your head and spoiled you.” A tear almost trickled down Maya’s cheek.

“Maya, I’m sorry. I hurt you”. Baba seemed truly perturbed. He had never imagined Maya would react so sarcastically to his practical suggestion. “You can come whenever you like. Okay, now. wipe off your tear”.

Maya went back to her quarter within the school boundary, a sad and lonesome figure. She still admired Baba and loved him passionately, but somehow, she realised that her respect for him had diminished. In her early teenage years, she had felt as though a mystical halo, an ethereal glow had surrounded Baba but now she realised it was missing. How ironical, she thought. The whole world considered him a remarkably holy man, a sort of Godman, but only she knew he was just an ordinary person with common human faults and an innate human craving for fame, money and power. Maya went to bed that night, glad that Baba was a natural human being having emotions and feelings, and not really a Godman as many of his devotees made him out to be. She was sure Baba loved her, or else why would he care to spend so much time with her or converse with her, even amidst his busy schedule? Maya decided to exploit Baba’s weakness for her to the full and force him to take her in his arms.

Once Baba and Maya were sitting in Baba’s room and Baba was eating his lunch at half-past two in the afternoon when suddenly, Baba asked her, “Maya, you’ve come here a number of times and yet I haven’t gifted you anything, Well, tell me what you would like to have ?”

Maya was pleasantly surprised. She had in mind some two or three lakhs of cash, which she would borrow from Baba, to buy a big plot of land. She said, seeming to be very thoughtful. “Baba, I’ll tell you when the right moment comes. At present I don’t want anything. Anyway, I’m going, for I have plenty of work to do at home. I’ll come next Sunday. Goodbye Baba”.

She had just left and walked a few paces down the corridor when Baba called for her. “Maya, I forgot to tell you, I won’t be here next Sunday, so don’t take the trouble of coming all the way”.

“Where will you be then ?” Maya asked casually.

“I’ll be in Chicago” Baba said, laughing “for I’m leaving on Thursday”.

Suddenly a chord struck in Maya’s heart. She had always nurtured the ambition of visiting America at least once in her life time, and an opportunity presented itself which should not slip by .Her face assumed an eager look and she expostulated excitedly “Baba, you told me you wanted to give me something. Well”, Maya clicked her finger, “give me a ticket to and from America, along with yours.”

To Baba, it was as if a thunderbolt had fallen from the blue. His calm and composed face became tinged with annoyance. “It’s impossible. Maya”, Baba cried out, “Whatever will people say”?

“I didn’t know you were frightened of people or society”, Maya said in a full mood for argument. “You always said that you didn’t care a damn for what people said, and therefore I admired you tremendously. But now I see that you belong to the same rat race, hankering for power, prestige and position,” She had realised that Baba’s inner being had changed and that Baba was no longer the simple man that he was in the past and now she gave vent to her feelings in this outburst.

Baba felt like thrashing her violently, and he would have done so had it been anyone else, but he deliberately cooled down. He was a man of word and could not go back on what he had promised Maya. “Okay Maya, “Baba said “I’ll book a seat for you in the same flight”. Maya was very excited about her trip to the States. She packed her dresses and sarees gaily and even withdrew some cash from her savings to buy small gifts from the States for her colleagues. Most of her colleagues exclaimed excitedly, “How lucky you are, Maya, its really a windfall”.

Maya thanked Baba from the core of her heart for this wonderful event in her life. She loved him with a deep yearning and now the truth dawned upon her that he was the only person whom she loved, and therefore she could not fall in love with anyone else .True, he was famous all over the world as a miraculous Godman, but to Maya, he was still her dear old Baba. She realised with regret how Baba had changed, how he saw nothing beyond his organisation and hankered only after money and fame. Being no different from other men , he must be vulnerable to sex too. Maya thought. She decided she would try her best to break down this facade of dispassion which he always maintained.

In the plane, Maya’s seat was elsewhere, some three rows behind Baba’s. She didn’t mind it, for she was too nervous as the plane took off. She marvelled at the wonderful sight from the plane as it crossed over the Pacific ocean. The blue expanse of the sea spread out like a vast sheet of water on the earth and under the sky. The airhostesses dressed in impeccable blue and white sarees, were kind and smiling. When Baba and Maya alighted at Chicago Airport. Baba had just a little time to ask her cheerfully, “Well Maya, did you enjoy the trip ?”

“Baba, it was wonderful” Maya said, her eyes glittering with joy.

Soon, Baba was surrounded by a flock of devotees, all looking pink and white in the blazing sun. They were driven to a calm and peaceful ashram surrounded by a garden of flowers and fruit trees .Baba was to stay a fortnight in Chicago, travelling to neighbouring regions now and then, and then return back to India. Baba’s disciples and devotees had made meticulous arrangements for Baba’s comfort during this short stay.

Maya saw very little of Baba during these few days. He was even more busy here than he was at India. From morn till night his devotees sought him every moment, when he wasn’t discoursing. Baba’s discourses drew huge crowds and he even performed miracles there, which he rarely did at India. During one such discourse session he stretched out his hand and shutting his eyes said “O Lord, give me some apples so that my devotees may not go back hungry today.” And hey Presto! Baskets of apples gathered around him from nowhere. Maya witnessed this spellbound. Some of the spectators whispered that the scene was like Jesus feeding thousands of disciples with a single loaf of bread and five pieces of dried fish. But Maya knew it was sheer magic which he had learnt from someone in the Himalayas. However, Baba was greater than other magicians. Maya thought. He combined the art of magic with his tremendous powers of oratory and skill of yoga to carve out for himself a special niche in the society as a Godman. Once, during one of Baba’s discourse sessions, a famous magician of Chicago, challenged Baba and said that he too could perform such tricks, but Baba’s devotees waived him away and denied him access to the dais. Baba, on his part said, “I have not come here to accept or face challenges. I’ve just come to spread the mission of peace, to bring India and America closer, to fuse Indian spiritualism with American materialism and to bring harmony in the lives of American men and women whose spiritual chords are broken and have gone astray”. And then a thunderous applause followed, and some devotes even become hysterical enough to swoon at Baba’s feet. For a moment, hatred for Baba for befooling the public burned within Maya’s heart.

Most of the time Maya remained to herself. She went sightseeing, window shopping and strolling along the road all by herself. Had Baba been beside her, she would have enjoyed every moment of it, but she felt lost amidst the huge crowd who were flooding around Baba in increasing number.

Sometimes a young man, seeing her alone would suddenly pinch her bottom or plant a light kiss on her cheeks, Completely taken aback, she would recover herself quickly and try to avoid him. But it was enough to arouse the seed of passion and desire in her, which had been lying dormant all these years. And it inflamed within herself more when she saw people in parks and public places, kissing their beloved passionately and enjoying free sex. Here there was no restraint, and she wondered why she had restrained herself for so many years, keeping herself aloof from men. She now realised she had loved Baba ever since she was a child, and it was for him alone that she had suppressed her desires for so long. Since Baba was not much different from other men, Maya was sure too that he must be having a sexual longing for her. Perhaps he concealed it beneath a facade of brotherly affection just for the sake of keeping up appearances, she thought. She decided to exploit Baba’s desire to the full, take advantage of it, and use it for her own enjoyment.

One evening, some twelve days after Baba’s stay at Chicago, Maya deliberately put on a low-cut copper sulphate bule coloured nightie, and waited for Baba to enter his bedroom. Her soft white breasts were partly revealed and she had amply sprayed powder on her white body to make it feel soft and silky. She was overcome with an intense desire to have intercourse with him. She longed to feel Baba’s violent and passionate kisses on her lips. In the Ashram, she had occupied a room adjacent to Baba’s but she had never dared to remain in his room, when he returned from his discourses late at night. But that night she opened the door to let him in and he was surprised. He was too tired to give it a thought, and taking out his shirt, he quickly lay down on the bed and fell asleep. Maya thought he looked very young and sexy in his banyan and half revealed thighs, and an intense desire surged through her. Sitting on the bed, she lightly massaged his legs and then she started kissing him from his thigh upwards, Baba awoke with a start, and stared at her as though she was mad. “Are you at your wits’ end?”. He thundered, “Why are you kissing me like this ?”

“Now come on Baba, Kiss me, Please”. Maya said in a long drawling tone, making her voice husky.

“What madness has seized you Maya,” Baba exclaimed angrily, “I’m not your lover to kiss you.”

Maya giggled loudly, “Baba, don’t you really love me? You’ve loved me ever since I’ve been a teenager and it’s for this reason that you brought me here. Now come on Baba don’t be a hypocrite. Certainly you can’t deny the fact that you have desire for sex like every man has and you are no exception.” She again tried to kiss Baba on the lips. Baba pushed Maya so hard that she almost fell to the ground. He looked angrily at her and said. “Look here Maya, before I tell you to get out from here, I must make it clear to you that I’ve always loved you as my little sister, because you resembled her when I first saw you. And secondly I’ve never had any desire of sex. And now get out from here”.

All of a sudden, Maya came out of her cocoon of love illusion and glared at him angrily. “Baba, you are a hypocrite, a selfish liar”. She screamed hysterically. “You want only name and fame for your organisation, caring a damn for the crying heart of one who loves you. All these days I preserved my virginity only for you and you treating me like this”. She ran out of the room brushing away a tear with her hand.

In her room next to Baba’s Maya cried and sobbed her heart out. “Shall I die a virgin ?” She thought, She decided she must have the taste of sex at least once in her lifetime. She imagined she was a jinx where sex was concerned. An attempt at having intercourse with her husband ended in disaster. The same was true of her relationship with Baba. Was she a failure as a woman, unable to arouse desire in the man whom she loved? All these thoughts criss-crossed her mind. She wondered how all these years she was bereft of the desire for sex when the whole world was making such a hue and cry of it. And now, she became more determined than ever to fulfill her sexual instinct, and if not with Baba, then she must have it with some one else.

Maya did not get an opportunity to speak to Baba for the rest of the two days. While returning back to India, inside the aeroplane Maya was seated beside Baba, and then Maya spoke up. “Baba I’m sorry for my behaviour. I’m sure you have forgiven me”.

Baba’s face was quite grim. The affection for Maya, which always shone on his eyes, was missing. “I’ve forgiven you no doubt, but henceforth, don’t try to meet me alone. For I can not trust you anymore. Besides, I have to maintain my clean image”.

Maya was almost near to tears. This came as rude shock to her. She had never expected Baba would banish her from his thoughts and life so easily. She said, through tearful eyes.” Baba, I’m really sorry. But please don’t be so cruel, please Baba, I just cannot live without you, I’ll even give up my job to be near you and work for your organisation. If I continue with my job in The Hindu School, I’ll lose all contact with you. It will just be unbearable for me.”

Baba seemed to be lost in thought. He said with disgust on his face “Then you can see me from a distance”.

“But Baba, I want to be near you , please, Baba, I’ll die, if I don’t see you at all. But I promise I’ll never even dream of having sex with you ever again. Rather, I’ll become your disciple and work for your orgnisation.”

“Don’t be stupid. I never allow ladies as my disciple”.

“Then make me a teacher in one of your schools,” Maya pursued.

Baba was unusually quiet and maintained a grave silence during those eighteen hours journey, and Maya no longer enjoyed the sight of trees, plants, men and animals looking like tiny ants crawling on the ground. Baba’s silence was painful to Maya, like going through death, and she felt relieved when at last the plane touched Dum Dum Airport. 19

Just on the outskirts of Calcutta, lay the co-ed high School of Baba’s, amidst ten acres of lush greenery full of mango, litchis and cashew trees. Baba had two other nursery schools in Calcutta, but he wanted to appoint Maya in this full-fledged school so that she would not only get job satisfaction, but be busy all the while. The other nine teachers included local graduates and sannyasis of the organization, who stayed within the school premises. Maya stayed in a rented house in the village one km. away from the school.

When Maya was appointed as teacher, some of the sannyasis objected but Baba deliberately made her, so that having too much to do, her mind would wean away from himself. The Principal, who was an aged Sadhu, was for most of the time away on organisational work, and Maya found her hands quite full having to virtually manage the school, along with other local teachers, who were not sannyasis. There were four young Sannyasis, almost Maya’s age or near about, and two of them were so fanatically, wedded to the organisation that they never looked at Maya straight in the eye, and knew nothing else other than meditating for five hours per day and teaching the children.

Another one was tall and well built, and spoke in a Punjabi accent and often stared at Maya very hard without blinking. Maya felt frightened in his presence and except on rare occasions of official necessity, she hardly talked with him. She sought courage and comfort from the other young Sannyasi who though sporting a beard and wearing a turban, like others, had a pleasant and handsome bearing. Maya immediately took to him, just as Baba had done and had made him the accountant and the treasurer. Whenever Baba visited the school once in a week or fortnight, Maya and the accountant Sanyasi explained to him all the going-ons of the school in detail. Maya maintained a strict professional relationship with Baba and Baba soon realised that Maya was a capable and efficient lady where work and duty were concerned. Baba immediately raised Maya’s salary to Rs 5,000/- per month, while the other Sannyasis worked honorarily, living merely on the money handed to them from time to time by Baba. This raised envious eyebrows among the sannyasi circle, but they remained quiet obeying their Guru as a subject obeys the Emperor.

Maya loved it all. This was what she had always longed for. She was busy teaching her students, organising sports activities, taking her students out for nature rambles, ordering the sannyasis to give the children meditation lessons under the trees etc. And while doing all this she also developed a soft corner for the young hand some accountant sannyasi, Very often, they were seen talking for hours together, after all the sannyasis had left for their respective rooms, and then he would see her to her rented house in the village at six p.m.

One late afternoon. Maya and the sannyasi were sitting in the Office room when all the others had left. The first showers of the monsoon had just, touched the earth and the raw smell of dry earth wafted into their noses. This brought to Maya’s mind fond reminiscences of home. Maya remembered the hot cups of ginger tea her mother used to give her whenever she returned home from school, fully drenched in the rain. Suddenly, she asked Chinmayananda, “Dada, (She addressed all the Sannyasis as “Dada”) don’t memories of home ever haunt you ?”

“Very rarely, Mayadi”. Chinmayananda looked out of the window and smiled “When memories of the past do come flooding into my mind, they seem like a picture in a book, so unreal, like a dream, perhaps, However this drizzle reminds me of the time when I, Ma and didi used to sit in the verandah, chewing peanuts and puffed rice from a bowl and watch the rain fall pitter, patter in the courtyard, Really, we were quite a happy family.” His eyes grew misty.

“Then why did you leave home at all?” Maya queried.

“I did not get a job, though I had obtained an M.Sc. degree in chemistry. Dad nagged me day and night as a worthless young fool, unable to do anything. It really got on my nerves, this constant nagging and one day in a fit of disgust and anger, I left home, After some days I came in contact with Baba, was fascinated by his personality, learnt meditation from him, and here I am’.

Chinmayanand came back to the present, and suddenly bit his protruded tongue, as though he had committed a mistake. “O Maya didi, we are not supposed to reveal our past to anyone. Those are Baba’s strict orders, and I wish I hadn’t told you”.

Maya dispelled away his fears, “Never mind, let’s forget it”, she said cheerfully,

Dark, threatening clouds soon engulfed the sky, and the rain came crashing down on the earth like a huge thick wall falling from the sky. Maya wanted to reach home before it would completely darken, but she had not brought an umbrella. Chinmayananda offered to walk home along with her, holding his umbrella over her head.

Maya agreed, and ordering the peon to lock the office room, they set forth. Their bodies touched each other and aroused waves of desire which ran coursing through their blood. They walked on silently, at times looking at each other but all the while enjoying the thrill of the physical touch. By the time they reached Maya’s’ rented house, Maya was partly drenched while Chinmayanada was wholly. Maya standing within called out, “O’Dada, do come in and have a cup of tea”.

Chinmayananda was standing outside in the rain holding the umbrella over his head.” You know I am an absolute teetotaller” he smiled and hurried away.

That night, Maya slept soundly, deeply touched by the chivalrous nature of Chinmayananda. She realised that she had developed a soft corner for him. The feeling of guilt tormented her, yet she was glad to have another lover.

Next morning, Maya waited for Chinmayananda to turn up in School.’but he did not. Someone told her he was lying sick in bed. At lunch break, Maya immediately rushed off to see him in his room. He was lying straight, like a still body. Maya’s heart almost missed a beat when she mistook him for dead. His temperature had risen up so much that he could hardly open his eyes. Maya immediately sent a peon to call in a doctor from the village. She forced him to gulp down a paracetomol tablet, and dabbed swathes of cold water on his forehead. She became too concerned about his well being and even forgot to go back to school after lunch break.

She felt relieved when the doctor said it was a case of malaria, and with appropriate dosages of medicine, he would get well soon. She returned home at half past five and ate very little of her lunch. Her heart sank within her once again. It was as if some person within her was telling that she was illicitly enjoying the love of a man who was supposed to be far above these things.

Chinmayananda recovered very fast. Thanks to Maya’s timely care and nursing, he was up and about within ten days of his illness. Everyday, in a tiffin carrier. Maya brought chapati and vegetable curry specially cooked by her and he relished it tremendously, much more than he ever enjoyed the ‘dalma’ of the common mess. She looked after him with the love of a mother and the care of a sister and deep in his subconscious, he began to imagine that it would indeed be wonderful to have Maya as a wife. He pleasantly toyed with the idea for a long time till his mind riveted to Baba and how he would never relish it. Baba always made it a point to visit every sick disciple if he was nearby, but this time he could not because he was away on a foreign trip. However, when he returned back to Calcutta, he immediately called for Chinmayananda.

It was a bright sunny day, a rare weather in Indian monsoon climate, and Chinmayananda spirits were quite high as he boarded the bus for a half an hour journey to Calcutta. True, he felt warm and secure imagining himself to be basking in Maya’s love, but at times, he felt guilt-ridden too, for he thought he was treading on dangerous grounds. There was a lurking fear in his mind, for he was sure that Baba, who seemed to know everything that was happening around the world, had also read his secret desire and had therefore called him to punish him. But on seeing Baba’s cheerful and smiling face ,Chinmayananda felt assured that Baba had not fathomed the innermost recesses of his mind. “Well Chinmayananda, I heard you were quite sick, but I could not visit you as I was away from here. Anyway, how’s the school going on ?”

“Excellently, Baba. Many children have taken admission this year.” Chinmayananda expressed gaily, “And ever since Maya joined as vice- principal, people have had more faith on us. She does look into every detail meticulously and easily gets every work done.”

“I also heard that she tended and looked after you during your illness. Well I did not know my little Maya is such a good nurse too”. Chinmayananda could sense true affection in Baba’s eyes as he spoke about Maya “Anyway, let’s come to the point”, Baba continued “Actually, I have called you here for a special reason.”

“What’s it, Baba?” Chinmayananda’s voice was tremulous and nervous.

Baba laughed away his fears. “Nothing to be frightened about”. He said “This time my foreign trip has been very successful and people have given me huge donations.” Handing him a V.I.P. suitcase he said. “Here’s five lakhs. Make a fixed deposit of it in the school’s name.” And then Baba’s eyes lit up with an ambitious glint “I want to make that school one of the best in the world. I suppose there’s ten acres of land around it. Chinmayananda, I think, we an easily develop it into an agricultural college,” Baba spoke excitedly, like a child exclaiming at a new thing, “it’s a great idea ,isn’t it ?”

Chinmayananda left Baba’s apartment at 4 O’clock in the afternoon after having paid due obeisance to Baba by stretching himself alongside on the floor, in the gesture of doing ‘pranam’ to Baba. Baba had lifted him up and patted him on the back and had said “Okay Chinmayananda, while going back, be very careful. You are taking a lot of money. And tomorrow is Tuesday, deposit it in the bank.”

As Chinmayananda boarded the bus. it began to drizzle. At about 6 p.m. he was near his single room house within the school campus, and he was surprised to see Maya waiting with a serious and anxious look on her face in the verandah. She too was afraid lest Baba had known about her love for Chinmayananda. Chinmayananda felt glad on seeing her, “O Mayadi, do come in and sit down”. He said while, unlocking the door.

“Dada, why did Baba summon you?” Maya asked,

“Just to give me these five lakhs to be deposited in the bank tomorrow in the Schools account.” Chinmayananda said showing Maya the attaché. ‘ Baba intends to make this school a full fledged institution”.

The sun had already set and dark back clouds stretched along the sky like a thick blanket covering the earth. The evening lights began to glow in the village homes and the sound of the blowing conch shells mingled with the rumble of thunder, “Dada, will you kindly see me off to my house?” Maya requested.

Chinmayananda laughed “Can you go out in this rain, just look out of the window and see how its pouring”. True enough, a thick rainfall poured down as though the heavens had torn apart. A thunder storm was brewing up and the wind roared round like a scared lion. Drops of water came flying through the window and dotted Maya’s face. Chinmayanand ran to shut the window but Maya obstructed his way.

“No let it be,” She said, “I feel pleasant enough as though a cold shower is sprinkling my face”.

“But, you’ll get wet,” Chinmayananda protested.

“No I won’t”! Maya said. She wanted to continue the conversation rather than feel bored, “Today, I told Yogananda to engage the students in drill, he did engage, but he kept on hovering around me in the office room and stared at me as if he would devour me any moment. I really felt scared and wished you had been near me to lend me a protective hand. I don’t know why on earth he keeps staring at me like that, but never speaks to me. Even now, when I was coming he followed me right up to the door and then vanished. God knows where, I really felt frightened.”

Chinmayananda smiled. “As long as I am here, you need not feel scared”.Just then a very bright light lit up the sky as though a thousand tube lights had been switched on for a momemt; a terrific lightening flashed across the sky and seemed to enter right in to their room through the window. Impulsively, Maya ran close to Chinmayanand, and he clasped her tightly. Instantly, there was a blackout and the village was plunged into darkness for somewhere an electric wire had been severed from its main connection. Thunder continued rumbling in the sky and made a noise like a hundred drums rolling. The steady beat of the rainfall pervaded their mind with romantic thoughts as they become locked in a tight embrace. Light and sound alternated with each other to produce a romantic symphony in the minds of the lovers, “Maya, my sweet, I have loved you ever since I set my eyes on you,” Chinmayananda whispered sweet nothings into her ears as his hand unloosed Maya’s bra and went rummaging over her breasts as though he was trying to discover something. In all her twenty nine years, this was Maya’s first experience in being sexually loved and she felt absolutely thrilled. Deep within herself she felt guilty but could not so easily forgo the joys of this love adventure. Chinmayananda kissed her passionately for a long time on the lips, his tongue protruding and then inserting into her month and then he showered kisses on her ears and neck. Maya too kissed him passionately enjoying every moment of this novel experience. Her hands slipped down his back and went groping around his loins and then Chinmayananda clutched passionately and moved towards the bed. Soon the lovers became one and Maya’s vagina throbbed with joy and thrill as Chinmayananda is hard penis broke the virgin walls. A moment later Maya became conscious of the great sin which she had committed and pushing him away she sat up. Maya’s heart was bleeding with guilt. It was a wonderful experience no doubt but she terribly regretted having been overcome by weakness, in this moment. Chinmayananda, on the other hand was very optimistic. He hoped to enjoy more of this secret love making soon, for he felt he truly loved her.

Maya did not want to stay a moment longer in Chinmayananda s place. She set out for home quietly and Chinmayananda followed her walking steadily in the watery darkness. Maya was lost in thought, while to Chinmayananda, the silence was unbearable. “What are you thinking, Maya”? Chinmayananda broke the silence as they neared Maya’s house.” Didn’t you enjoy it, this love making, tell me frankly.” he asked.

“It’s true that I enjoyed it. But, I feel terribly guilty I feel as though we are betraying Baba,” Maya said,

“Not in the least,” Chinmayananda retorted,” we are doing our duties towards this organisation as sincerely as possible. In fact we are the most sincere and hardworking. Don’t we have the right to enjoy an innocent harmless and natural pleasure which is exclusively our own. Come”, he held her tenderly and consolingly. “Let me kiss away your guilt”. Chinmayanada pulled her forward and tried to kiss her but she fled from his clutches and running to her room, bade goodbye and shut the door.

The next morning on reaching school someone informed Maya that Baba wanted to see her and that she ought to leave for Calcutta immediately. Her pulse rate shot up and her heart beat wildly for she felt like a frightened goat knowing that she is going to be slaughtered soon. She was sure Baba had come to know of her adulterous relationship with Chinmayananda, for his disciples vouchsafed that he knew what was going on even in the innermost recesses of their mind .She had heard stories of how very often in his evening walks, with his disciples he would say, “So and so.. you are thinking this”, “you had committed that fault yesterday”, which came down upon his disciples like something from the blue. They did simply gaze at him amazed, and marvelled at his powers of perception and clairvoyance.

As Maya trudged her way towards Baba’s apartment she telt very nervous. She prayed fervently that Baba might have summoned her to his presence for some other reason, yet knowing fully well that all her prayers would be in vain. However, deliberately putting on a bold face she entered his room.

Maya was struck by Baba’s calm and assured appearance but she could sense the waves of anger surging within him beneath his grave countenance. “Maya”, Baba addressed commandingly. “Sit down”, Maya sat down trembling from head to foot. How did Baba know? She wondered, That fool Yogananda must have sneaked it to him early in the morning over the phone. But then, she thought again, Baba seemed to know everything. “ I am sorry to say that you are dismissed from your job”. Baba continued, “Tomorrow you must no longer be seen within the school campus. And this is an order”, He said the last line emphatically and slowly.

“Baba ! I am sorry for what I did yesterday, it was a moment of weakness and I was overcome. Baba forgive me just this time please.” Maya pleaded like a child as she sometimes did in the past and got her way with Baba,

“Sorry” Baba looked at her contemptuously, “You can not imagine what harm you have done to my organisation”, he thundered and then lowered his voice, and as though spitting at her he said, “I never expected you could demean yourself so low as to have sex with a Sannyasi and that too, one from my organisation. You have spoiled the whole lot of them. I tell you Maya, I never did allow ladies in my organisation, but because I loved you and thought you were different, I put you in the school I even forgave your sexual overtures with me. Perhaps you are the only person I had ever loved, but now I hate you, for you have let me down terribly”. There was contempt in his voice. He almost felt like weeping, but he withheld himself,

Maya felt utterly humiliated, crushed by the sense of being hated by Baba, yet she wanted to argue with him and bring him to understand her point of view. “Baba”, she triedd to be quite casual,” I don’t see what great sin I have committed by indulging in a natural, human, biologically necessary pleasure just once in my life. And I promise you I will never do it again if you insist that I should not. I do really love you and cannot bear to live without you, Baba. There surely is mercy in you heart, I think”.

“Maya”! Baba thundered, “stop arguing and kindly get out from here. I don’t want to see your face ever again. You spoiled my favourite disciple, on whom I had set high hopes, and yet vou try to justify yourself? You have polluted the whole ethics of my organisation. I loved you, pampered you and tried to satisfy your strange whims, and this is how you have repaid me. Kindly go away immediately and see that you leave the school premises by tomorrow morning”.

“Baba, where will I go? My parents will feel so disheartened on seeing me without a job. Baba, please give me one more chance”. Maya begged.

“I said get out from here!” Baba shouted. Maya rushed out. She walked down the corridor, sharp, painful tears blinding her way. She did not notice the gaily decorated shops, the busy market place, nor the sweet little children playing on the fields, as the steamy bus bumped its way along the black asphalt and then thudded its way round into the village bus stop. It was half past four and white fluffy clouds floated in the sky looking like small boats bobbing in the ocean. She cast one last longing look at the school which lay at the beginning of the village and of which she no longer would be a part. The school bell rang and the boys rushed out with their bags and baggage hanging from their shoulders making a loud noise.

Just then Chinmayananda spotted Maya at the gate and picking up his bag he came walking speedily towards her “Maya,” he panted, “why had Baba called you? Did he scold you much?”

“Baba knows all that we did yesterday”, and then Maya continued sadly. “He has dismissed me from my service and has commanded me to quit the village by tomorrow morning. And so I have to go”.

“Where will you go” ?

“Back to my parents. I will try to find a job somewhere”. Maya’s eyes carried a wistful look as she said this.

“But Maya, its impossible”. “Chinmayananda halted for a moment and gaped at her, his eyes wide with astonishment and despair. “I cannot live without you. I do love you so much, and you cannot deny the fact that you love me too.” They walked on silently for some time and then suddenly a bright idea seemed to strike Chinmayananda’s mind. His face lit up. “Maya!” he exclaimed excitedly, “I have got an idea. Let both of us elope to Bombay, get married and then fly off to the United States. I have got the five lakhs which Baba gave me to deposit in the bank. With that, we’ll somehow manage and make a sweet home of ours .If you do not agree with my plan, you will be betraying me, because I think you love me”. He said ‘me’ emphatically, Maya was surprised at this change in his personality. He no longer seemed to be a pleasant natured, obedient, soft-spoken, mild sannyasi of the past. Rather, he seemed to have taken things into his own hand, displaying a daring and determined mind.

For once Maya felt frightened in his presence and uttered a decisive. “No I won’t go with you.”

Chinmayananda’s face shot with anger. By now they had almost reached Maya’s house. He halted for a moment, held her hand firmly lest she hurried away, and said, “Maya, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, I have made up my mind. Tomorrow at half past four in the morning, I am coming. The train crosses this station exactly at 5 a.m. From Howrah we will go to Mumbai. Mind you, not a word of it to any one and be ready at half past four, and that’s final”.

His voice carried a threatening note, and Maya felt very frightened as she freed herself from his hold and ran to her house, unlocked the door and entering the room, bolted the door from within, She lay down on the bed and began to think, she cursed herself for having entangled herself in an amorous affair with Chinmayananda, “O’ why did I do it” she cried aloud to herself, “When all along I knew that sex and myself were not compatible with each other”. How happy she would be if she had just been content in managing such a big school. That way, she would have been near Baba all her life and would also have the pleasure of seeing him. Looking back on her life, she realised that Baba was the only person she had ever loved and she could not bear to be away from him. She considered Chinmayananda a traitor in wanting to elope with her and cutting off all links with the organisation. “Supposing I do elope with Chinmayananda and he marries me and tries to keep me happy”, She reasoned within herself, “but will Baba ever forgive me? I cannot bear to be disdained by Baba anymore. And I can never be happy with Chinmayananda, living with this guilt complex and sense of betrayal throughout my life”, She tossed about the bed this way and that, for a long time without even getting up to cook her dinner. Sleep just evaded her eyelids till 10 O’clock in the night and then praying “O God, Please let not Chinmayananda come tomorrow”, she fell asleep.

She was awakened by a soft thud-thudding on her door. It was an urgent menacing knock, and looking at her watch, which read half-past four, she knew it was Chinmayanada come to take her away. At first she thought she wouldn’t open the door but when the knocks grew loud and persistent, she got up and opened it.

A clean-shaven man, without a moustache, wearing plain clothes, such as a shirt and a trouser, was standing in front of her, smiling cunningly. At first she thought he was a stranger, but on peering closer, she recognised him by the dim light of the pre-dawn morning and stared at him in disbelief A khaki bag hung down from his left shoulder and in the other hand, he was holding an attache, which Maya knew was full of cash. His unwholesome appearance seemed repulsive to her.

“Why, Chinmayananda, what have you done to yourself ?”. She cried out in astonishment.

“Shhh!” Chinmayananda said , putting his fingers to his lips. He pushed her aside, and entering the room latched the door from within. He looked around in dismay and said, “Maya, you haven’t even packed your clothes, I told you to be ready”.

“I won’t go with you”, she said quite nonchalantly.

He glared at her sternly.

“Maya, I can’t imagine how you can say such a thing at this stage, Now come on, don’t fuss about, and change your saree. I’m packing your clothes”. He caught hold of a suitcase lying on the table, opened it, and dumped into it some of Maya’s clothes hanging down from the wall hangers. Maya tried to prevent him. She pulled away the suitcase but he pulled it back.

“But……. But……. I’m” Maya wanted to say “not going” but he didn’t allow her to complete the sentence. “No ifs and buts, Maya,” Chinmayananda said angrily, “it’s too late to change your decision. Now come on, if you delay further I’ll commit suicide”, he warned her and ran and caught hold of a kitchen knife.

Maya was too frightened to speak. She stood dazed, as though held by a hypnosis. What if he really cut his throat O’No! Silently, she obeyed him. She held the suitcase of clothes in one hand and attache in the other, while Chinmayaananda opened the door. Together, they fled out into the darkness. In the eastern horizon, the sun was casting a faint glimmer. They were oblivious to a crow cawing, or the sound of early birds chirping as they rose up together. The only thought which hammered in their mind was to reach the insignificant village station as quickly as possible lest they miss the train. Many times, Maya tripped over a bush or a small rock and almost fell, but Chinmayanand pulled her up and simply dragged her on.

They had hardly gone for not more than two hundred yards when they saw someone approaching them, In the dim darkness. They thought he was a farmer going to his field, but when he came closer, they recognised him. It was Yogananda. The pistol in his hand glistened menacingly. He approached, grinning at them leeringly.

“Get out of my way, I say”, said Chinmayanand,

“You rascal”, Yogananda was still grinning evilly. “I’ll, kill you before I get out of your way. You snatched away my Maya, whom I’ve loved every since I set my eyes on and now you are running away with the cash”.

Maya stood petrified, rooted to the ground. Suddenly Yogananda caught hold of Maya’s hand, and said determined. “I will take her along with the cash and if you don’t give me the cash, I’ll shoot you”. Yogananda’s whole body was charged with a mad rage, as he pointed the butt of pistol at Chinmayananda.

“You fool, I won’t give you even a pie of the cash”. Pulling Maya away from Yoganand’s clutches, Chinmayananda turned back and ran towards the village, shouting back to Maya to follow him. But Maya just couldn’t budge her legs. Meanwhile Yogananda ran after Chinmayananda like an angry hunter running after its victim. Knowing fully well that Yogananda would shoot him at short range, Chinmayananda ran for shelter in one of the mud huts nearby. The door had just opened and a lady emerged brushing her teeth with a neem stick. Already day light had crept in and when she saw a man approaching her door followed by an angry sannyasin with a gun, she was at her wits’ end and quickly went and shut the door. Chinmayananda ran towards the next hut, where a woman was sweeping the verandah and her husband was standing at the doorway. On seeing the two approaching figures and apprehending danger, he quickly pulled his wife within and bolted the door from inside. And then exactly, at quarter to 6 a.m. the sound of three bullet shots rent the air of the peaceful village and awakened most of the sleeping villagers. On witnessing the gory spectacle, Maya fainted and while Chinmayananda lay in a pool of blood, dead of course, Maya was immediately rushed to Calcutta hospital by the members of the organisation and Yogananda was arrested.

Maya remained senseless for a whole day and when she regained her consciousness the following day, she grew pale as she read in the papers. “Famous Godman, being involved in the eternal love triangle, murdered a member of his own organisation”. Another paper reported, “Godman killed his rival in love”. Maya realised that amongst the millions, only she knew the truth, but who’d believe her? The whole world believed Yogananda, who very cleverly shifted the blame on Baba by fabricating that Baba had always loved Maya and when he came to know that Maya’s love had strayed on a young handsome sannyasi of his own order, he had been inflamed by jealousy and envy, and had ordered Yoganand to murder the sannyasi. Her name flashed in the head lines as Baba’s lady love, but she did not like it in the least. She wanted to shout that it was Yogananda who was to be blamed for his bloody affair, and that Baba had no part in it, but the words just wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Instead, she was shocked to hear people saying that Baba was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She hated those talks, and even more did she hate herself for ruining Baba’s life and destroying his organization, the organization which he had built up with his own sweat and blood, and of which he was so proud. She had dashed all his hopes to the ground, and her heart sobbed as though blood was flowing out of it.

That evening, Maya was given a chance to talk to Baba in jail, even though she was kept in police custody, Behind bars, Baba looked his usual calm and composed self, and seeing him, Maya sobbed her heart out.

“O Baba, I’m so sorry”, she kept on saying, “you helped me so much, but my unlucky face has only brought destruction on you. Baba, I promise you I will do everything to see you being acquitted of the charge. I’ll even say that I killed Chinmayananda.”

Baba smiled. “No one will believe you, my dear, What’s to happen, will happen. You and I are mere instruments in the hands of the Lord. And mind you, don’t keep blaming yourself for the crime. Rather get ready for the court proceedings coolly and calmly.” 20

On a particular day, the accused and the witnesses were questioned in the high court, and many people thronged the room and its outskirts to hear, the proceedings of such a sensational case. Baba was called to the docks and a great deal was said about him, his crimes. Baba’s lawyer raised up his arms and acclaimed that the accused was innocent, while the prosecutor vehemently proclaimed that the accused was guilty of sexual perversion and murder and had links with under world dons, or else, how could he acquire so much money within a short span often years only? He had misutilized his powers of clairvoyance and tantra to bring name and fame to himself. An hour ago, Maya’s husband, who had come all the way to be a witness, had testified the fact that Maya never wanted to have sexual intercourse with him lest he’d know that she was not a virgin. Even Shekhar’s sisters said that she never wanted to sleep near Shekhar. She had even left her husband to carry on her sexual affairs with the accused. On being questioned, Maya said that these were all fibs and lies. She vouchsafed that Baba had never even looked at her as a sexual object, and he loved her as he would love his younger sister. It was true that both Chinmayanand and Yoganand had fallen in love with her, that she herself had developed a weakness for the murdered and that they both were eloping with the cash. Yoganand shot him to death in a fit of rage and jealousy. The prosecutor cross questioned her, but she remained firm as a rock, for that was the truth. And then began the cross questioning of Baba after he had put his hands on the Gita swearing that he will speak nothing but the truth. Baba was his usual self without the least flicker of regret or nervousness on his face.

“And so you bought the haunted house”, stated the, prosecutor, “I suppose it suited your perverted and mysterious nature”, he carried on, raising his eye brows.

“Objection, my lord”, said Baba’s lawyer. “My honourable friend should only ask questions and is not permitted to make castigations on my client’s character”.

“Objection overruled”, the judge ordered, and the prosecutor continued again, charging at Baba like a lion.

“How is it that amongst all the villagers, you picked up only Maya to shower your affections on, while you remained indifferent to and aloof from the others.”

“Well”, Baba replied in a matter of fact manner. “She looked exactly like my little sister who had died a year ago, and whom I had brought up entirely alone after my parents’ death. And I was aloof from the villagers, because I wanted to be left in peace without their interference at any odd hour”.

“You stated that you looked upon her as your little sister. But the world knows that a brother doesn’t talk to a little sister who is twenty two years younger to him for hours together in a closed room. And you did exactly that with Maya. That is what the villagers say”. An old peasant man was called to the witness box and vouchsafed the fact that Baba indeed talked with Maya for two hours everyday on her way from school. He further said that Maya was given a sound thrashing for it, by her mother.

Maya wished Prasadda had been alive to bear witness to the fact that Baba had talked with her only for fifteen or twenty minutes per day, and that too never in a closed room. Unfortunately, he had died a year ago, and the house had once again become a haunted house.

“What were you doing for two hours with Maya? You must be caressing, fondling, kissing, her and having sex I’m sure”. The prosecutor asked Baba.

“Objectionable, my Lord,” Baba’s lawyer thunder. “My friend the prosecutor, would be well advised not to conjure up such unseemly images, which are not at all true”. “Objection overruled”. The judge once again commanded. It was evident to Maya that the judge had been bribed with huge amounts of cash to be biased in favour of the prosecutor which was the Government. Maya remembered how she had suggested to Baba in jail that they ought to bribe the judge, but Baba had bluntly refused, saying that he would rather die of honesty, than live by demeaning his integrity. How she wished that Baba had agreed to her suggestion and had not been so adamant in maintaining his integrity.

Baba replied that he had never done these things to Maya. The prosecutor raised his voice and continued. “And when your evil deeds of sex and tantra (For strange people used to come to visit you at night) became known to the villagers, you just vanished into thin air by trying to please them with a donation of Rs 50,000 for their welfare”.

“ I went away secretly because I didn’t want to disclose my whereabouts. I felt the time had come for me to learn the science of meditation in the Himalayas. I wanted to realise the Truth and when I did get an inkling into Truth, I came back to the world after six years to teach people the process of meditation and yoga and relieve them of certain mental and physical ailments.”

“So you wanted to free the world of certain amount of suffering”. The prosecutor said contemptuously. “But how is it that you hankered after and added to your fame, wealth power and prestige by trying to be in the good books of under world mafia dons, powerful politicians, wealthy NRI industrialists and foreigners. It seems you mis-utilized your powers of yoga, clairvoyance, tantra and magic, to build up a world wide organisation, an estate worth crores of rupees within a span of only ten years”.

“Its true that I have built up my organisation, but only to benefit the people, I have never sought the favour of the rich and powerful, nor have I ever looked down on poor people. My devotees included the rich and the poor alike who are impressed by my discourses and teaching of yoga and meditation”. “And when your holiness and brahmacharya or abstinence from sex was confirmed under the guise of a strictly all male organisation, you wanted to secretly carry on your old love affair”. The prosecutor lashed out at Baba. “You then forced Maya to leave her husband and keep up a secret alliance with you”.

“When Maya met me after many years, I didn’t know she was married.” Baba spoke truthfully. “She left her husband of her own accord, and only after she had left her husband did she meet me and tried to be close to me”.

“What do you mean by close to you”.

“I mean she wanted to be in touch with me always”.

“Yours was a strictly male organisation and girls or ladies are not even allowed to cross the threshold of the corridor leading to your apartment, leave alone joining your organisation. How is it that you allowed Maya to enter your premises, sit near you and talk to you at stretch for a long time?”

“I was familiar with her, when she was a child and I have told you she resembled my dead younger sister. I could not disclaim that familiarity so easily.”

“In your foreign trips, you generally went alone. How is it that you took Maya with you in one of your trips to America?”.

“Because she wanted to visit America and requested me to take her”.

“And you obliged her easily. Why?”

“Er....because she resembled my dead sister whom I loved very much”.

You loved her, and yet you say you never had sex with her”. Then addressing the judge, the prosecutor said “Melord,is it possible that in the twentieth century a sexual pervert and his girl-friend go holidaying to the States and yet refrain from indulging in sex while sleeping in adjacent rooms? And then, on coming to India, when the sexual pervert realised that the members of his organisation were gossiping about his affair with her and he had lowered himself in the eyes of the public, he appointed her as a teacher in one of his best schools, paying her Rs 5000 per month. Thus he could be very close to her and yet maintain his distance in the eyes of the public. Little did he know that the affections of this young lady Maya, who was naturally fed up of loving and having sex with an old man twenty two years her senior would stray towards a handsome, young sannyasin. And when he came to know of their elopement, in a fit of anger and jealously, he ordered Yogananda to murder him.”

All evidences pointed to the fact that Baba was the murderer and Yogananda was an accomplice in the murder. Baba was sentenced to fifteen years of life imprisonment, while Yogananda was to stay in jail only for three years. After the verdict was passed, Yogananda, who was standing nearby waiting to be handcuffed after Baba, stared at Baba pleadingly with eyes asking forgiveness. He then took out a bottle of poison from his pocket and gulped it down, before the police could intervene. He was rushed to the hospital, but died within an hour. No one knew the cause of his suicide, but all guessed it was because of being shocked at the news of his imprisonment, when he had hoped to be set scot-free,

In the night, Maya was allowed to meet Baba in the jail, only for a short while, “Baba I’m so sorry’ she sobbed. “I’ve been the cause of all your trouble and yet I could do nothing to save you”.

Baba smiled. He wasn’t in the least sad. Rather he consoled Maya and said. “Maya don’t indulge in self pity. I hate it. Both of us have played our little roles in this world. I told you we are just instruments in the hands of God and what is going to happen will happen and I’m not at all worried. Anyway Maya, it’s a fact that I’ve loved you always and therefore, I’ve made over my entire property, estate and millions in the bank, to you. The will is with my lawyer. You’ve always wanted to be a rich heiress, isn’t it, my dear? Well, I’m glad I’ve fulfilled your ambition” and he smiled peacefully. Maya stared up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. She could not believe it! But when the impact of what Baba was saying dawned on her, she cried out “No, no Baba. I can not take it ! I’ll rather try out your case in the Supreme Court. Anyway Baba, fifteen years is a short period. It’ll just fly away. You can come and head your organisation after that. I’ll be waiting for you”.

“Maya”, Baba was quite calm and assured. “I’ve already made my will. It’s with my lawyer. After me the organisation will break-up. So don’t bother about it. You’ve suffered a lot, my dear, break-up. Now, you deserve a little happiness. Go and enjoy all the millions that I bequeath to you ,with a happy heart and free mind. Now come on, smile a bit”.

It was almost an order, and Maya forcibly smiled through her tears. The warden had come to lead her out, for the time was limited. As she left, casting a long, devotional look at Baba’s smiling face, he said “Goodbye, Maya ! I’m going”. She wondered why Baba had said. “I’m going”. The next morning, she was not at all surprised to read in the papers. “Godman- cum-murderer escaped in the first night of jail sentence through locked bars and high walls.”

It was indeed a miracle ! Baba had left behind a letter. “I am going back to my destination. This world is not for me or my likes. I had come, hoping to redeem the world of a little suffering, but my efforts have been futile. People are so much steeped in suffering and pain that they have become used to it. They cannot wade to a shore of happiness. In fact, they have lost the knowledge of the art of living and enjoying life. They love to bathe in the ocean of misery and find pleasure in it .Therefore, I am going, never to come back again.”

A tear of love, mingled with joy and sorrow dropped out of Maya’s eyes, and fell on Baba’s photo, as she stood transfixed, staring at the calm and composed face smiling behind the glass.

*** About the Author

Mamata Dey is a Reader in English and is currently teaching in P. N. Autonomous College, Khordha, Odisha. Her contact address is Mamata Dey. C/o J. N. Mitra, Jail Lane, Khurda, Odisha.