The Opposite Wind - Murthy Nauduri

Telugu: Madhurantakam Rajaram [Smartness… is a strange trait. While a proper measure of it gives confidence to the individual, any excess would mislead him to believe that he is unique, unparallel and unbeatable. But nature is a merciless manipulator. It always pulls out a surprise card hid under its sleeves. 'Smartness smarts when you are outsmarted'. That is the essence of this wonderful story. Madhurantakam Rajaram, an ardent teacher-writer and passionate observer of human nature unfolds this apothegm in a gripping narrative.] * After a long wait, my uncle Ranganatham had a female child following five sons. Her name was Lila. She was a simple and innocent girl by nature. Her attire changed as the spring of adolescence dawned on her. Whenever I saw Lilawati walking to school by road, struggling to hug the load of books to her chest, it reminded me of a young doe swaying over the sandy dunes of a perennial stream. I often thought it was not the right age to marry her off. I know married life entails limited pleasure with unlimited responsibilities. Forget about the pleasures, bearing the burden of responsibilities is no mean task; more so, when one is still in her adolescence. Stories of contemnible and stern control of mothers-in-laws and petty issues with sisters-in-law are legendary. Who would be inclined to subject her to such rigor at that early age? But my uncle Ranganatham was of a different kind. His ideas take off from where any other person's thinking ends. Should any well-wisher approach him to give a sane counsel, he would have to return home embarrassed like a non-Russian scientist attempting to teach space travel to a Russian. My uncle was always smart and on the alert. If you flip through any page of his sixty long years of life, his alertness would be as apparent, and even stands out, as the brilliance of a great director in every frame of his movie. The way he brought his five sons, as the facsimiles of saint Rishyasringa; his foresight in reserving jobs no sooner had they passed their final exams; or his worldly wisdom in looking for suitable brides for them, where the girls invariably brought in some immovable property in addition to the customary gold and cash, attest to his shrewdness. He was like the principal player who pulls the strings from behind in a puppet show. Like the presiding deity of a temple, he will never move out of the precincts of his sanctum sanctorum – his house. But gets everything done the way he wants it. Of course, I knew Lila's future was safe and secure in the hands of my uncle, like the money deposited in a bank.  But I was not sure, when, where, or how he would invest that money. One evening my uncle sent a word to me. He received and greeted me with due courtesy. During the conversation he said suddenly, "Look, Rajasekharam! You are the first person I am talking to about this matter. I haven't consulted anybody about this issue before. I want to perform the marriage of my daughter as soon as possible. What is your opinion about it?" He leaned back into his easy chair after asking me this question straight. To say that I was utterly perplexed was no exaggeration. It was beyond my comprehension and belief to imagine that my uncle really needed some advice from another soul after sixty long years of his life. Incredible! If my uncle married off his daughter to a wooden pole, his loyal sons would be prepared to treat it as their brother-in-law without demur. Lila, anyway, did not have the age, initiative, or intelligence to select a husband on her own. Even in my wildest dreams, I could not imagine that I had grown wise enough to give advice to my uncle. There was nothing more to it than to think he was just trying to honor me with his words. I was correct! He was not sitting idle waiting for somebody's advice! He passed that stage and marched much ahead! "There is a good match that has come to my notice, Sekharam!" I was startled. "'Is there one, uncle?' Then, what more do we want? Sooner the better, goes the saying. Why don't you go ahead?" I said. Did I say it, really? That too, against all my intentions? No. There was some inexplicable power in my uncle that drew out those words through my mouth. "The boy passed M.A…" What more was there to read further? Nothing. He could swim through the ocean of examinations braving all challenges reaching the other shore successfully. Thus, he qualified himself to be the son-in-law of my uncle. "Of course, he is not employed still. He could get some 'gazetted' post straight away if he tries hard… "The boy has no worthwhile person to fall back upon. He has an old mother – with one step in her grave already." I was slowly getting a notion about the minimum qualifications required for 'a good match' in my uncle's perspective. "I received a letter from the boy today. He wants to see the girl!" "Wants to see the girl, uncle? How dared he is! Why didn't you write to him to watch the evening twilight, the full moon, or a protean beauty in all its splendor to get an idea about the girl," I said.  Fanning the gleeful mood of my uncle was my intention. I succeeded. Like the bubbling runnel down the hill, cheerfulness effervesced over his face. "Ah! He is just a greenhorn! Why should we overreact by being so harsh, Sekharam? I have already dropped a postcard today informing him that we do not have any objection for his seeing the girl, and that the coming Friday and the next are suitable and auspicious for the purpose," said my uncle. So, my uncle just wanted a spectator for the drama he had already started playing long before. That I was terribly disappointed was an undeniable fact. I had long yearned to play a small role, however insignificant that might be, in his ventures. That it had petered out this time, too, was the reason for the disappointment. But my uncle was a master craftsman. He breathed life into my evaporated hopes in no time. "Like Pandavas for the count, I have five sons Sekharam! But they are all useless. Conducting a daughter's marriage these days is not an easy enterprise. I need your helping hand in this!" he said. My helping hand? That too, for my uncle? I could not believe my ears. "Sekharam! What is there in securing a degree? If one could spare the expenses, getting an M.A. degree is not a big job these days. If he is rich, it is because he is the lone heir to a fortune amassed by his ancestors. Where is the mark of his achievement? Forgetting for a moment about his education and riches, a worthy man should succeed in life of his own effort. When a prospective groom demands to see your girl, it doesn't mean we should keep quiet. Are we not leaving our precious daughter under his charge? Are we not giving him ten thousand in dowry? Can we give him our daughter without testing the mettle of the person? We should get intelligence about the boy. We should get an idea about the capabilities of the boy." My god! I was underestimating the role he was going to entrust me. No. He is entrusting a key role. Just as temperature is measured with a thermometer, my uncle wants to use me as a live tool to determine the groom's abilities. On the stage of life, every man should be ready to play the role assigned to him! At the first hint of hesitation to play the given role, the director would brand you unfit and turndown. Rejection by three or four directors marks the end of the aspirations and career of any actor. * The auspicious Friday had dawned, as did the boy. He must be around twenty-five. A lean figure with neatly combed hair, pleasant face, and the complexion of guava fruit. He dressed immaculately. Had there been a turban on his crown, a spot of musk on his cheeks and a garland adorning his neck, one would take him for a bridegroom instantly. A beautiful bride— and a ten thousand dowry! Through the kaleidoscope of imagination, he looked even more glamorous than a hero from any technicolor movie. And true to its glamour, his name was Raghupati. Courtesy Raghupati, I had a sumptuous feast at my uncle's house, followed by a restful nap. After the nap, serving another round of snacks followed in the evening. Not sure how Raghupati felt about it, but I was in a kind of trance. And before the mood sobered up, the moment of showing the girl to the boy arrived. Donning a green sari and white blouse, Lila looked like the divine Parijata flower the legendary sage Narada brought from heaven in a cup of betel leaves. And like the fragrance of the Parijata, the melody of Lilavati's Veena recital pervaded all around. While all eyes were glued to the girl, my uncle's eyes were surveying the boy relentlessly. At nine o' clock in the morning Raghupati stepped into that house. The average number of words per hour that escaped his tight lips could be counted on a hand. And most of his responses were in dry monosyllabic words … like ayes, nays, or Oh's, 'Is it?'s and 'So true!'s. Lila followed up her Veena recital by a song. Raghupati was sitting like the statue of a Gandharva. It was hard to read whether he was enjoying it, blissful, or indifferent to it but there was no perceptible change in his posture all through. My uncle called me aside and asked me the meaning of his serious posture. What could I tell him? Should I say silence is a natural virtue with great people! Or it is a fool's shield! It was nightfall, and time for lighting the evening lamps. My uncle asked me to take him for an evening walk. "For an evening walk? Now? Okay, let's go," replied Raghupati. Silence reigned through our walk. We reached a lonely place on the outskirts and sat on a large boulder. "Do you have any hobbies?" I initiated a conversation. "Hobbies? What have I to do with them?" he said as if they were taboos. "At least, you have the habit of reading books?" I said. "They only publish books for people like us to read, don't they?" he said putting up an innocent face. "Do you go to movies?" I asked. "I cannot help it. Besides, there are eight theatres at our place. What will happen to them?" he said pitying theatre owners. I tried to prolong the conversation by asking him about the stories he liked most or who was his favorite actor and the like. After all the prolonged conversation, I concluded that he would never give a simple straight answer! Was it deliberate? Or he could never give a straight answer? – haunted me. Stars on the firmament and streetlights at our place started twinkling. Over the wet earth, a moist wind was blowing. He was coughing intermittently during his replies. Once he was unable to contain his bout for quite some time. "Last night, I travelled by train. Watching nature through the window while travelling was my habit. Exposure to the cool wind resulted in the blockade of the nostrils and cold," he gave an excuse for his coughing. Dinner was served soon after we reached home. My uncle arranged for three beds in the hall in a row. Within five minutes of going to bed, Raghupati stretched his legs on the bed, covered himself with bedsheet and pretended to fall asleep. My uncle waited a long time for an opportunity to talk to him. He denied my uncle any chance to speak to him. I got up suddenly. It was still dark. Raghupati was having a serious bout of cough and struggling for breath. My uncle also got up soon and put on the light. He called out to my aunt and ordered warm water. He opened his medicine chest and picked up some tablets. "He travelled by train last night. He caught a cold because of that. This place and the water did not suit him. That compounded his problem resulting in cough," I tried to reason out. But my uncle did not look convinced. He started looking suspiciously towards me and Raghupati alternatively. * Four months had passed since. Having expressed his consent to marry the girl before leaving the place, Raghupati was not at fault for the delay in furthering the marriage proposal. I asked my uncle four or five times. Every time he replied, "It's a question of marriage and we should hurry our decisions." Finally, I asked him, "Didn't you like the boy, uncle?" He kept silent with a giggle. I concluded that my uncle was, somehow, not in favor of the proposal. It was common for marriage proposals to snap at the point of culmination. This was much better. No matter what man proposes, God must dispose it. Reconciling to the inevitable is the limit of all reasoning. My thoughts ceased further with that reconciliation. While I was lost in my daily grind taking that Lila's marriage was indefinitely postponed, my uncle came to me like a whirlwind one evening around eight. "Rajasekharam! What a man you are! While I am struggling to make proper marriage arrangements, you don't even care to take a peep into my house. Is this the kind of help I expected from you?" he said, sinking into a chair. It is common for the main actor to get angry if a side actor performs badly. So, I wanted to do justice to my role. "Uncle! That is an uncharitable remark about me without reason. Did you give me a hint of your opinion after the boy had left conveying his decision? How do I know that the marriage is on, and you are doing the arrangements?" I expressed my disconcert. Looking appealingly towards me with a pleasant smile, he said, "Sekharam! I did not expect you this innocent. Do you think I was sitting idle for all these four months? You don't know the story happened afterwards…" I was curious to hear. I did not have to ask him. He came to see me for the very purpose. "The moment the boy had left conveying his willingness, your aunt was after me to finalize the auspicious moment for the marriage. But I could not put the next step forward. Normally I don't get doubts; but once a doubt arises, I cannot rest in peace without getting it cleared. The boy was lean and was coughing. Of course, he was giving his own reasons for that. But how can we take them at their face value? Did you ever notice how a buyer selects young calves at the hat, Sekharam? He checks its dentition, the size and location of whorls, and its appetite throwing some hay in front. A calf costs but five hundred. If a farmer checks so many things before buying a small calf, where is the wisdom in not checking the boy on whom we are spending ten thousand? After seriously thinking about the pros and cons, I came to a decision. If I were to forgo the match, I would be prepared for that. I can look for a boy a thousand times better. So, I took the risk to write to him…" "What did you write to him, uncle?" I was anxious. "Nothing much! My dear young man! Doubt is the root of all grief- goes the saying. I have one such doubt. It is up to you to clear that. All I need is two or three chest X-Rays from you. They are enough. And I received them before within ten days…" Like the whole army of kings at Kurukshetra was bemused when Lord Krishna presented his Universal Incarnation, my mind went blank before my uncle's intelligence. "You know my family doctor Damodaram. I took the x-rays to him for advice. 'What a funny man you are! Is it fair to doubt the health of such healthy-looking young man?' He was almost angry with me," my uncle said. I heaved a big sigh of relief as if a heavy load were taken off my head. The world which looked whirling about me a short while ago, appeared returning to its original state. But there was not the slightest change in my uncle. He continued. "But the suspense did not end there. There is something more interesting. Well, his health issue was settled. Fine. But what about the antecedents of the boy? What is his nature? His thinking? His heritage? His lineage? – I went on enquiring. The more I enquired, the more information flowed in: One of his uncles lost everything in playing cards. His maternal uncle divorced his wife. His father did not take care of his family, spending his time mostly after ascetics. How could I know the traits he inherited? I tried much harder. But no two reports were alike. One of his classmates said, ' Do you intend to give your daughter's hand to him? He has insufferable modesty.' Another gentleman who had intimate knowledge about the family said, 'What can I tell you? His face is a lotus. His words are cool as sandalwood. But I can't say anything about his mind.' I was like a fly caught in the phlegm. I could not decide anything. I thought seriously for ten days…" God! What could I say of my uncle's sharp intellect!? Sharp and spiked weapons like a mace, spear, lance, or a sword come nowhere nearby. I was curious how he had finally decided. But my heart missed a beat in the meantime. "Selecting two sharp brains I intimately know of and who could pursue any challenging mission to its logical end, I paid them in advance and offered to pay more after the mission was accomplished. Their job was to go to the boy's place and stay there for two weeks. They must watch every movement of the boy- like the kind of people he meets and the people he moves with; enquire about his reputation in his circles. I asked them to get complete intelligence about the boy." Suddenly, Sherlock Holmes, Perry Mason, and Hercule Poirot flashed in my memory. Just that my uncle did not enter that profession, but he was no less- I thought. "That's all. Sekharam, they returned and gave me all the information I wanted. I was fully satisfied with the boy's conduct." I understood, my uncle was coming to the concluding part. "I wrote back to him expressing my willingness to offer my girl. After receiving his reply, I met the purohit and fixed the auspicious time for the marriage. On the fifth day of the bright fortnight in the coming lunar month, there is a very auspicious hour before dawn. Invitations will be ready by tomorrow evening. I am not sure if my sons will also arrive like all other relatives. I find nobody but you who could be of continuous help. You must apply leave for these ten days." While delivering the last sentence, he had already set one foot on the road in front of our house. * The pandal might not be bridging the horizons with a matching platform, or the last guest might not have been served as hot a meal as the first one, but my uncle performed the marriage of his daughter extravagantly within his means. And within one week of her marriage, Lila went to her husband's place. My uncle could somehow put up for one or two days the separation of Lila. From the third day onwards, he started eagerly waiting for the postman. How was Lila? Was she depressed with the unfamiliar environment? Was she incurring the censure and shaming by her in-law? He started writing a letter every third day to his son-in-law enquiring about the welfare of his daughter. But all his effort turned out to be 'one-way' traffic. He did not receive a single reply from his son-in-law. Finally, my uncle decided to write a long and detailed letter to his son-in-law about Lila. Starting from her conception and delivery, he went on describing how the parents brought her up with boundless love and care, how she was the fount of their hopes and aspirations, and finally concluded how pathetic they were deprived of any communication about the welfare of their beloved daughter. "I have almost exhausted my ammunition, Sekharam! This is my final and ultimate weapon. If I don't receive a reply even for this letter, I must lose all hope," he said dolefully sinking into his chair. He received a reply to that letter by return of post. But calling it a 'reply' would do injustice to it. If my uncle had used the most powerful weapon in his armory, his son-in-law deployed one, a step above. "Dear Father-in-law, "After paying due obeisance and respects to you, your son-in-law Raghupati submits the following … "Courtesy postal department, all your letters have been received in time. While all the letters were of the same kind, your last letter was unparalleled. I read and reread your golden words about parents' love towards their daughter. I assure you that I will meticulously follow your advice and direction next time when your daughter conceives and delivers a girl child. But, if she delivers a male child perchance, I pray the Almighty in all earnest that he does not inherit the traits of his maternal grandfather. "You may get angry with me for saying this. Anger is one's archrival- they say. I request you to go through my submission coolly and patiently. "Our tradition says that father-in-law is one among the quintet of fatherly figures. That way, you are as respectable and honorable as my father. But if I set aside that respectable feeling and try to evaluate you dispassionately, I regret to say that there are so many qualities insufferable to fellow beings in you. "God sends every human being with some amount of intelligence onto this earth. And it is common for everybody to mold his life comfortably with his intellectual prowess. But unfortunately, it has been an age-old misconception among some of these people to suppose that they are the smartest of the lot and others are blockheads and treat them accordingly. You have this ignorant belief to the brim. "'Marriages are made in heaven' – is the saying. But, for the smartest intellectuals who presuppose that this world, encompassing all the oceans, mountains and the flora and fauna, turns on its axis according to their whims and fancies, it might appear a whimsical statement. You suppose that you have found a suitable groom for your daughter by investing all your intelligence. What is your answer if I say the X-rays, I sent to you were not mine? "As per our constitution, to accuse the innocent person of any crime is a punishable offence, which means the victim can go to a court of law seeking compensation. What crime did I commit to send CIDs after me? Is it a crime on my part to agree to marry your daughter? "Instead of those dumbbell goats you sent after me who got into a trap before they could graze, could you not find better native detectives? "You are rich. With the confidence it confers, you don't hesitate to insult the pristine human values. Money is an instrument of barter created by man for his convenience. But you believe that you can barter with people instead. You can never imagine that, more than your money, your daughter's character and looks won my heart. You imagine that out of greed for the dowry, I stand in the dock of your insults and answer your doubts. I am a human being, not an inanimate object. You did not buy me; nor have the capacity to buy. I am enclosing herewith a cheque returning your ten thousand. "You may doubt why did I not reject the dowry at the time of marriage itself. Let me answer. These are not days where rejecting dowry is not treated as a noble virtue. These are unfortunate days where it is treated as a mark of incompetence of the groom. I know, apart from you, society per se might suspect that I had some frightful and concealed defect in not accepting the dowry. "Rest assured your daughter Chy. Sow. Lila is happy and comfortable without any want. Of course, she says that her parents come to mind occasionally. It would be nice if you could visit us along with mother-in-law. Failing which, we will try to visit you. Your son-in-law, Raghupati" Uncle went pale as if all blood had been drained off him. One will not find such a desperate look even in the eyes of a drowning man, swept off his feet by a flash flood. * (Andhra Prabha weekly, 1958)
Post Date: Wed, 31 May 2023 20:16:28 +0000
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