TEARS OF BLOOD

Mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law. Always supposed to be at each other's throats. It was a rare combination of the two that got along well. My daughter-in-law and I got along well. Sumati was a docile and obedient girl who was pleasant-natured and always respectful to me. I liked the way she would come quietly into my bedroom early every morning with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. "It's time for you to get up, Ma" she would say in a soft voice and pull open the curtains to let the sunlight in. She was an excellent homemaker and ran the house with clockwork-like precision.My son was lucky to have a wife like her. 

My son Ashok. He was thirtyfour years old and in a good job with bright future prospects at a leading private company in Chennai. He was intelligent and handsome, a hot temper being the only flaw in an otherwise attractive personality. He drank a little sometimes at business meetings and parties, when his temper would flare up some more. He was a good provider, and looked after his widowed mother well. That was me .Sumati and Ashok made a good- looking couple. I sometimes longed for grandchildren to play with. No doubt they would come too, in due course of time. 

It was the twenty-ninth of December and the New Year was just around the corner. Ashok came home from the office that evening happy and excited. "Sumati, come here, " he called out as he sat on the leather sofa in the hall, removing his shoes and socks. His wife hastened to where he sat and I too followed her, curious to know the cause of my son's good mood. 

"The boss is throwing a grand party on New Year's Eve at Hotel Hilton, "Ashok went on. "He says he will announce the names of those employees who will get promoted to executive level for the next year, at the party itself. The boss wants to meet the respective spouses of every employee and has categorically stated that I too, should bring my wife along. The prospects for my promotion are excellent," he concluded, his eyes alight with hope. 

Sumati smiled at her husband. "Of course, I shall accompany you to this five-star hotel function," she assured him. "When are we supposed to arrive there?"

"Seven in the evening," replied Ashok. 

"I have a little New Year's Eve shopping in do at Mount Road," faltered Sumati. "Could you possibly pick me up in the car in front of Higginsbothams on that day?"

"Sure, no problem at all," said Ashok. "I'll meet you in front of the bookshop at six-thirty sharp on the thirtyfirst. That's settled,then."

I went to bed that night well content and happy about my son's promising future prospects.

The last day of the year dawned with cool climate. Ashok went to office as usual in the morning. As the evening approached, the weather turned pleasantly chilly. Sumati, dressed in a silk patola saree, was ready to leave the house by five, leaving me in charge. 

"Goodbye,Ma," she said to me. "I shall finish my shopping in a little over an hour and wait for him in front of Higginsbothams by sixthirty."

"May you fare well, Sumati," I blessed her. "I shall pray Ashok gets a promotion today."

Re-entering the house after seeing her leave in a taxi, I became preoccupied with some household chores. I had just finished putting the evening rangoli outside our doorstep when the landline phone within the house rang incessantly. I picked up the receiver to hear my son's agitated voice. 

"Sumati is really the limit, Ma!" he said to me, speaking in angry tones over his cell phone. "I have reached the bookshop on Mount Road and have been waiting here for fifteen minutes. There is no sign of my dear wife," he continued in sarcastic tones. "Now we shall be late entrants at the party and create a bad impression on the boss."

I looked at the clock in the living room. It showed six forty-five.

"Wait a little more time for her, Ashok," I placated him on the phone. "She may be held up at some busy shop counter. I'm sure she'll be there soon."

"Well, I'll give her a piece of my mind when she shows up," said my son angrily as he hung up. 

The incident faded from my mind as I settled down to pick out stones and dirt from some raw rice. No doubt, Sumati would be meeting Ashok soon enough, I thought as I fished out a particularly large black stone from the rice.

I had finished my dinner by eight-fifteen and had cleared away the food. Eating alone was not an experience I liked but luckily I did not have to do so very often. On almost all days, Sumati was there to ladle out the food items onto my plate and Ashok's,too. I was just preparing to go and lie down for some time when the doorbell rang. It was Sumati.

"What....?" before the words fully escaped my lips I stopped on seeing her in tears. "Didn't you go to the party?" I asked her gently.

"I couldn't meet Ashok in time in front of the bookshop, Ma," my daughter-in-law sobbed out."I had finished my shopping by six-twenty and had taken a cab in order to reach Higginsbothams quickly. But it was my ill-luck that there was an accident in the road ahead of me, which caused a massive traffic jam in both directions over a lengthy stretch of road. The vehicles started moving with some speed only twenty minutes ago and I have just managed to reach home now. He will be furious! Oh, what shall I do?"

"Explain to him why you could not make it. I am sure he will understand," I consoled her, though I did not believe my own words. All the ingredients for a first-class row loomed menacingly over the household. "Try to get some sleep before he returns," I added as I turned away towards my bedroom opposite theirs. 

I fell asleep in due course and dreamt of King Asoka leading his troops in war on a vast battlefield. The shouting of the soldiers pierced my ears in a noisy din and I turned in my bed restlessly. Suddenly I sat up, wide awake. The shouting and din still rang in my ears. I froze in alarm. Ashok's infuriated voice and Sumati's high one broke the stillness of the night, resounding loudly in the darkness. 

"It wasn't my fault, it really wasn't!" I heard Sumati's shrill and tearful voice speaking in plaintive tone to her husband. 

"Don't give me your excuses!" came Ashok's voice, raised high and slurred in speech. He had obviously had more than usual to drink at the party from where he had returned in such a foul temper. "I have lost my promotion because of you! He had to choose between me and my colleague Arvind, and his wife was not only present there but even played hostess by supervising the food and drinks. Naturally he promoted him instead of me! He and I are of equal calibre at work but his wife is an asset to him at social gatherings, unlike you. To hell with your excuses!"

A loud crash from behind the closed door opposite revealed that my son was throwing the furniture about. I steeled myself and opened their bedroom door, only to see Ashok with his hands around his wife's throat, squeezing her neck tightly. 

As I watched in horror, Sumati's body went limp and slid to the floor without any resistance. Suddenly sober, Ashok too saw with horror his wife's still and lifeless form lying on the floor, her face convulsed and purple in colour.

Ashok and I gazed upon the body, and then we looked at each other. 

"I've killed her, Ma," he whispered. "You'll protect me, won't you? After all, I'm your son. We can fix a noose from the fan and tell people she hung herself."

I didn't say anything. I stood still for a long time, looking down at Sumati's corpse. Then I dialled the police. 

Maybe I was an unusual mother. Or maybe my sense of what was right and wrong was too strong. I really don't know. 

Ashok is in prison. It was because I called the law that he is there. I do miss him. Sometimes I sit up nights weeping for him. They are tears of blood.