Distrust

“Shayami..I’m going to Alwar tomorrow morning. You want to come? We can return by night. We can leave here at six in the morning. I shall drop you at your friend Bhuvana’s place on the way; attend my seminar and pick you up in the evening. It is more than six months since you saw each other, right?” Rajan asked, as he bit into the pappad and helped himself to two more spoons of beans curry. 

Shyamala joined him and took some curd rice for herself.

“Oh! Tomorrow? Just can’t make it. Tomorrow evening I have two brides coming here for their reception make-up.”

She has been running this Beauty Parlour – “Shyama’s” successfully for the past two years.

“I would”, she continued, “but for this Bridal Make-up. It is almost a year since I saw Bhuvana. God knows how she`s getting on. Unfortunate girl!!”

 

It was past three in the afternoon when the seminar wound up. Shyamala had given him a basket with some chocolates for the kids and Rava Ladus for Bhuvana.

“Saturday today and Bhuvana’s husband Krishnakanth should be home too,” Rajan thought.

The mere thought sent a wave of repulsion through him. Shyamala had told him all about this obnoxious human being .Rajan and Shyamala had moved into a building in Green Park in New Delhi five years back. Bhuvana was staying right across their flat. Bhuvana’s two children became very close to Shyamala who was childless. She adored them and Bhuvana too became very much attached to her.

Slowly Shyamala came to know the worst of Krishnakanth. He was the most distrusting and suspicious husband. He never trusted his wife. He neither gave her credit for anything she did nor appreciated her talents. Bhuvana related……..

 

“As soon as they were married, Bhuvana and Krishnakanth had moved into a flat in Vikaspuri , which was adjacent to a college. Four teenage boys had come over one evening to collect the ball which had fallen on their sit-out on the first floor. Krishnakanth walked in just as the kids were walking out with the ball.

The grilling started as soon as they left. Hundreds of questions regarding the boys; the number of times the ball came flying to their sit-out; whether the kids were treated to coffee tea or snacks;how could the ball fly into their sit-out…Bhuvana was in tears.

From the next day, he locked the house from outside before he left for office. He took upon himself the task of getting the provisions, milk, vegetables etc. He hated any one looking at his beautiful wife, leave alone, talking to her. Even when the gas cylinder turned empty, he would take it to the agency and get the replacement.

Then the kids, two of them, happened one by one. But Krishnakanth’s behaviour saw no change. Of course, ‘the locking her in ritual’ had stopped.”

Bhuvana once told Shyamala amidst sobs, “I have contemplated suicide so many times. But the thought of my kids has prevented me from taking this step. It is sheer hell, Shyamala aunty…I am fed up.”

Rajan had met Krishnakanth on two or three occasions. Once he had invited him for dinner with Bhuvana and the kids. Bhuvana had brought some homemade sweet. Forgetting his wife’s warning, he looked up and told her, “Fantastic taste.”

Pat, came these words from Krishnakanth,

 “She did not prepare this. This was brought by my sister. Bhuvana is not anything great in making sweets.”

After they left, Shyamala told Rajan that Krishnakanth had no sisters! What a “touch –my-wife-not” -fellow!!!

 

Krishnakanth’s boss’s wife had dropped in one day at their place.

Mrs.Kulkarni had told her, “I happened to pass this way and the driver told me that this is your house. I thought I’d drop in.”

Bhuvana was so delighted, she quickly prepared some vegetable uppuma and filter coffee and the lady was thrilled.

“Oh! How talented you are, Mrs Krishnakanth,” she cooed, relishing the coffee, admiring the embroidered furnishings and the interior deco.

“But you should change your views about men, Mrs Krishnakanth. Krishna says you hate men and hate to socialize. You never attend any function with him. All men are not bad specimens, Mrs Krishna. There are many good gents in the world…”

She was stunned. She related this to Shyamala the next day, “Aunty. I really don’t know,

whether to laugh or cry.”

 

The car stopped with a slight jerk.

 

“Saab, I think this is the building you are looking for,” the driver told Rajan.

Rajan took out the piece of paper in which he had jotted down the address.

No 610, Sarvodaya Enclave.

“Yes Dalbir, this is the building, Shall be back in half an hour. Please wait.”

 

He took the basket of goodies and walked towards the apartment and pressed the calling bell. A middle aged face peeped through the doorway which was still attached to the frame with a chain.

“Is Mem Saab in? I am Mem Saab’s Bhayya from Delhi.”

The door opened and the maid replied in Rajasthani mixed Hindi,

 

“Mem Saab is very ill sir. She’s writhing in pain.” She looked alarmed.

 Abhilash, and Vinitha, Bhuvana’s son and daughter came running to him.

“Uncle!! Amma is so ill. Please, please, will you take her to the doctor?”

 

Rajan gave the basket to them and hugging them, replied, “Don’t worry children. She’s going to be fine.”

He turned towards the maid,

“What happened? When did this pain start? You should have called the neighbours and

taken her to the doctor.”

 

“Oh! That just cannot be. Saab would be furious!!”

 He looked at Bhuvana. She was writhing in pain.

 

“I have a car with me, Bhuvana. Come with me. The kids will be taken care of.”

He called a client of his who gave him the name of a good doctor friend of his and also the name of the Hospital. He knocked on the door of the next apartment. He explained everything to the aged Sardarni who opened the door.

“Son, you take her to the hospital. Take my daughter-in-law also with you. I shall take care of the kids. Go with peace.”

Rajan and the old lady’s daughter-in-law helped Bhuvana into the car.

She informed Rajan that Krishnakanth was at Jaipur and would be returning soon.

“When did this pain start?” he asked her.

“Anna, I swallowed my diamond nose stud…and still this life refuses to ebb out.” She whispered softly to him in Tamil. She was crying now with pain and utter misery.

 

Rajan was shocked. Attempted suicide!! Well. Not unexpected.

His client Gurpreeth talked to the doctor and saw to it that the real reason for the pain was not divulged.

When Rajan returned to Bhuvana`s house, the children were doing their home work. A wave of compassion engulfed him.

“Amma is going to be fine, children. Just pray and be good, okay?”

The children regained their cheerfulness. The lady next door left after a while.

 

Krishnakanth, on his return a few minutes later, was totally surprised to see Rajan seated in the living room.

Rajan got up.

 

“Krishnakanth, I came to Alwar this morning on work. My seminar got over by two. I came here to see all of you and give the kids some sweets Shyamala had prepared for them. Thank God I came…your wife was writhing with stomach pain. The next door lady and I got her admitted into the hospital. I was waiting just to inform you. I have to leave now. You go there immediately.”

He gave Krishnakanth the name of the hospital. He said nothing about the reason for the pain. Let him discover, he told himself.

Krishnakanth looked terribly upset. His face had taken a queer expression. He was clasping and unclasping his fingers.

Rajan felt pity for this fellow for the first time, since knowing him. He extended his hand and patted him.

“Relax. Don’t get worried. She will be okay.” He opened the door and started getting into the car.

Krishnakanth did not seem interested in what Rajan was saying. He came rushing towards Rajan.

“You said that you and my neighbour helped her into the car?”

 

“Yes”, Rajan replied confused.

 

“Did you touch her?”

 The car sped towards Delhi.

For a moment, for just for a fleeting moment, a thought crossed Rajan`s mind as to whether he had done the correct thing by saving her. *****************************************************