This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach (43 page)

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Nayyar agreed. ‘The news that you were in the police lock-up was a matter of great concern to us. But she is not in at the moment. She’s at Model Town. She comes here often, though.’ Nayyar said reassuringly, ‘I’ll tell her too that you conveyed your thanks. I believe Panditji had some discussion with you about Kanak?’ Nayyar stared hard into Puri’s eyes.

Puri’s face took on a serious expression. He looked away as he thought for a moment. Owing to the seriousness of the conversation, he chose his words carefully and replied in English, ‘Yes, he did speak with me. But the reason for my coming here was that I felt it was my duty to fulfil an obligation. Kanak went to the police station because of her regard or sympathy for me.’ He said more resolutely, ‘You probably would have thought it ungrateful of me if I hadn’t come here to express my gratitude. And in order to do that, I had to forget my feelings of dignity and self-respect to some extent.’ Puri’s face flushed with anger.

‘My dear friend!’ Nayyar gave a shrug of discomfiture at Puri’s words, and placed his hand on the armrest of the sofa as he too explained in English, ‘You misunderstood my intentions. May I say something, if you will allow me, as a friend to both you and Kanak? I won’t want to overstep my boundary by offering advice to both of you.’

Puri was embarrassed, ‘No, no, please do tell me.’ He asked, ‘Should I not have accepted her gesture of regard for me?’

‘Of course! Why not?’ Nayyar said in agreement.

‘Panditji may not have interpreted the situation fully, and I too couldn’t explain because I was so embarrassed.’ He was speaking cautiously, ‘I’m aware of the difference between her circumstances and mine. I don’t think I ever overstepped that dividing line. In fact, I’ve never thought about marrying or starting a family without first having a firm financial footing.’

‘Quite right. Marriage means that one takes on the responsibility of supporting one’s wife,’ Nayyar said, again showing his agreement.

‘I’d reacted to her feelings out of regard for her, and out of respect for Panditji, and gave her my word for that reason. She knew about my strained situation right from the beginning. Now I find I’m in a strange bind.’

‘I understand.’ Nayyar rested his shoulders and head against the back of the chair as if to bear the weight of this understanding, and fingering his tie, said, ‘I think I follow. Yours can be a difficult situation. I know that Kanak has rather romantic ideas of life, and was drawn to you because of your talent and her literary leanings. That girl doesn’t hesitate or even think it necessary to hold back once an idea comes into her head. You do reciprocate her feelings?’

‘Well… yes. Your guess is correct.’

‘It’s all quite natural,’ Nayyar conceded. ‘But you will agree that marriage means more than emotional compatibility. Marriage is not merely a relationship between two persons. It becomes, at least in our society, a relationship between two families. Don’t mind my saying so, but I don’t think it would be very pleasant to face the opposition of everyone in the other family or to be always at odds with them all your life. It’s easy to see that Kanak is an attractive girl, and not only she but lots of other educated and impressionable girls would find you attractive. That’s normal. No harm in calling a spade a spade. So many times in one’s life one is attracted to someone, but one must also consider so many other factors before committing oneself for life. I hope you don’t think I’m treading on your toes by saying such things?’

Puri shook his head, and said, ‘Please go on.’

‘Of course, if you’d spoken to me before reaching a decision––after all, we’ve been friends for close to one-and-a-half years––I’d have alerted you to the facts of the situation. Panditji may be a man of liberal outlook, he still has some other convictions too,’ Nayyar said, weighing each word carefully. ‘I personally am in favour of freedom for a man and a woman to marry whomsoever they wish, but at times one can face a dilemma. For example, let’s assume that my sister’s, or as is the case, your sister’s marriage is being arranged. It was a matter of luck that the girl liked the boy, and that you too found him suitable for her, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Had you thought,’ Nayyar said with emphasis, ‘the boy to be unsuitable, for any reason, you’d have told your sister so, and if you could manage it, stopped her from going ahead.’

‘Well,’ Puri entwined his fingers and cracked his knuckles, feeling that the lawyer had pushed him into a corner. Plucking up courage to give force to his words, he replied, ‘I’d have discouraged her, but only to a certain point.’

‘Sure, if she hadn’t listened to you, you still wouldn’t have acted against your better judgement. Would you have kept back all your support from her? Just think, if Kanak insisted on something like that, what price she’d have to pay to drop from her present circumstances?’ Nayyar spoke with a grave resonance, a lawyer summing up his argument before a justice of the high court, ‘My dear friend, you mentioned the issue of self-respect. Keeping that in mind, just think whether you are paying a similarly high price for the sake of this relationship?’

Every hair on Puri’s body began to tingle with indignation. He could not speak for several moments. While addressing him as a friend, this lawyer had trapped him and pulled him down with his glib talk. He felt a deep sense of self-disgust. ‘Why did I ever come to this house? The polished arrogance of the bourgeoisie!’

He got up and said, ‘I’ve already told you that I’ve insisted on nothing up till now, and I don’t intend to. Namaste!’ He went out of the living room without a glance at Nayyar.

Kanak and Kanta had been anxiously waiting for Nayyar to come home. Kanta said reproachfully, ‘What’s kept you so late? You know how bad things are out there! I was half-dead with fear.’

‘I was delayed at Gwal Mandi,’ Nayyar replied.

Kanak said teasingly, ‘Sure, when you have friends to chat with, why bother what happens to anybody else? We didn’t even have tea while we were waiting for you.’

‘Yes, I certainly was having a chat, but with someone else’s friend,’ Nayyar said to Kanak. ‘I have a message for you too.’

‘From whom?

‘From Puri.’

‘Let’s have tea first. My throat’s parched,’ said Kanta, and began walking towards the rattan chairs and table on the lawn, where the tea service was laid out.

Nano was playing with a huge ball on one side of the lawn. She held out her arms and called, ‘Papa! Papa!’

‘I had a cup with Puri. All right, I’ll have another.’

Nayyar went to Nano. He threw her into the air and caught her, tickled her and swung her upside down in a circle. The child’s ringlets and flounced frock billowed with the motion. She screamed with glee.

‘That’s enough, you spoiled little rascal!’ Kanta lovingly scolded the child.

Nano had just learned to run. She would run with unsteady steps towards her parents who cooed in encouragement. She wanted to go on playing tag with her papa. Kanak impatiently watched Nano running with her chubby arms raised to Nayyar who was taking tiny steps backwards.

Nayyar came over and pulled up a chair near Kanak, across from Kanta. Kanak asked in a breathless voice heavy with curiosity, ‘What did he have to say?’

Nayyar thought for a moment, sipping his tea, then said, ‘He conveyed his thanks to you for going to meet him at the police station, and for your help.’

‘And?’

He again sipped his tea before replying in a solemn tone, ‘The rest of what he said wasn’t very nice. At least, I didn’t find it so.’

The glow in Kanak’s eyes dimmed. She asked, ‘What else?’

‘That he thought that there never was any obligation to you, and that there’s none now.’

Kanak’s face darkened as she dropped her eyes. She said after a moment’s thought, ‘I don’t believe you. Who’s to say what he was thinking when he said that?’

‘What context can there be other than your relationship with him?’

‘You must have said something insulting to him. He prides himself on his dignity,’ Kanak said with a little vexation.

‘We were talking at your home. I’m not so lacking in politeness as to insult a guest. I simply asked him if both the families refused to go along with your decision, what price were you both willing to pay?’

‘All right, I took the first step,’ she said looking down, but turning towards Nayyar. ‘Is it only a man who can take the initiative? Why not a woman?’

‘It’s strange for anyone to say what he did. Does that mean he really values you? It sounds as if you’re running after him,’ Kanta was displeased with Kanak’s answer. ‘Don’t you have any self-respect?’

‘Yes, a woman can certainly take the initiative, why shouldn’t she?’ Nayyar said in a conciliatory tone. ‘But conceitedness is out of place for either a man or a woman. If you love someone, you can’t put that person down. Why should anybody degrade that person in the eyes of other people?’

‘But the fact is,’ Kanak said biting her lip, ‘it was he who made the first move.’

‘Perhaps. It doesn’t matter who acted first,’ Nayyar said placidly. ‘But even if you were the one to take the first step, like, for example, your sister who first showed romantic inclinations towards me …’

‘Liar!’ Kanta, eyebrows raised in protest but with a smile on her lips, wagged a spoon to threaten Nayyar. Kanak could not see the humour.

‘It’s all right, if you don’t want to admit it,’ Nayyar too retained his serious demeanour, ‘but still it was I who went to your father to ask for your hand. Who else could I have asked for it? Even if the woman takes the first step, it’s still appropriate for the man to take the responsibility. A woman, because of some feeling of inferiority, takes pride in having herself asked for.’

‘What airs you men put on!’ Kanta interjected.

Nayyar pressed on, ‘But if a man acts that way, it means that he must have an inferiority complex.’

‘What kind of inferiority would he have?’ Kanak asked, with a frown.

‘I didn’t say that he was inferior, but that he had an inferiority complex. Why did he say that there was no insistence from his side? It means that he doesn’t consider himself fit to make an offer. He admitted that he was conscious of his difficult circumstances. That’s why he never dared propose to you.’

‘That’s not true, but let it go. You’re a lawyer, you can entangle him in your web of words, and make him say what you want. He’s not devious and sly like you.’

‘Am I devious and sly?’ Nayyar asked.

‘You are, indeed,’ Kanak said with a laugh.

‘And he’s honest and truthful?’ Nayyar remained serious.

‘I fully believe he is,’ Kanak said firmly.

‘I have evidence to the contrary,’ Nayyar said softly.

‘What evidence?’ Kanak challenged him.

Nayyar pondered for a moment before asking, ‘The name of Puri’s sister is Tara?’

‘Yes. I know her. She’s very brilliant, just like her brother. Very pretty too.’

‘She was to sit for her BA exam this year?’

‘Yes. So what?’

‘Do you know she’s getting married in July?’

‘Oh… so?’

‘Do you know to whom?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re not on close terms with her?’

‘Not very.’

Nayyar reflected a bit before asking, ‘Do you remember, last year there was an altercation between a student and the invigilator at the university’s Senate Hall? The matter didn’t end there.’

‘Yes. I do remember. When Professor Deen Mohammed was beaten up.’

‘The name of that student was Somraj Sahni.’

‘Probably. I don’t remember.’

‘Would you believe that an intelligent girl would agree to marry a man as disreputable as Somraj Sahni?’

‘I don’t know. I hope not… Why?’

Nayyar again thought a moment before replying, ‘Puri’s sister is being married to Somraj Sahni. I heard that the girl was against this marriage, but her brother and family overruled her objections.’

‘This is the limit! He wants freedom just for himself. Marrying off his sister against her will!’ Kanta said with disgust.

‘That’s not possible. I can’t believe that,’ Kanak protested.

Nayyar pushed back his chair and stood up. He pointed to the car parked in the driveway and said, ‘Let’s go to Bhola Pandhe’s Gali right now. Everything will be cleared up then.’

‘What’ll be cleared up?’ Kanak looked straight at him.

‘You can find out for yourself whether or not Tara is being married in July to Somraj Sahni, who was caught cheating at an exam in the Senate Hall.’

‘Wah, what kind of evidence is that? It could be Tara’s wish too.’

‘Your imagination has no limits,’ Kanta said.

‘You already did concede that a bright girl wouldn’t agree to marry a man like Somraj,’ Nayyar raised his index finger to remind Kanak.

‘But it’s not impossible. He may have some other saving graces.’

‘What saving graces? Is he a great poet like Tagore, or a patriot who was a member of the Indian National Army?’

‘How do I know? It’s a question of one’s tastes and likings.’

‘I even heard that the girl was beaten up when she objected. That she was wounded on the head. Feeling defeated, she wound up saying nothing.’

‘Impossible!’ said Kanak and looked away. She then said, ‘I’ll ask Tara myself.’

‘How would she have the courage to tell you the truth, now that she has accepted defeat?’ Nayyar said. ‘I had Puri confess it to my face.’

‘What did he confess?’ Kanak looked at Nayyar.

‘Listen, I didn’t tell Puri that I knew about the marriage. Somraj’s father Sukhlal had come along with Puri’s father to the court. Puri told me that Sukhlal was Tara’s future father-in-law. I asked, what did her fiancé do? Is he a professional or is he employed somewhere? Is he a good match? Puri replied that Tara’s fiancé was quite suitable, and was probably working with his father in the family business. He didn’t know any more. The whole city knows about the Senate Hall affair, but Somraj’s future brother-in-law, who’s a journalist, doesn’t know about it! Who would believe that?’

‘How can that be possible?’ Kanta said in disbelief. ‘He’s a first-class liar and faker.’

Kanak sat bolt upright in her chair, ‘Listen, bahinji, don’t start calling him names! I can’t …’