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Stories
''Janabji, she is innocent, a little foolish. She's come without telling anybody at home, only left a message with a friend, but what to do with her now, until someone comes to fetch her?'' The salt and pepper whiskers quivered involuntarily. ''You're a lucky dog to have landed such a sherni. She came all this way for you and no one dared to touch her along the way. Now take care of her''. But after a stern look and a hrumph-hurrah, he offered to help, promising to speak to a colleague with quarters, whose wife had gone home for sometime "She can stay there for a few days.'' Parbatiya was a hit with the whole station. The memsahebs of the sahebjis, the memsahebs of the Janab JCOs and the men who were thrilled at the ''bhabhiji's'' adventure. Sampat came in for much backslapping and ribbing. Innuendoes flew about on his sexual prowess, or were it his randiness, which had brought his wife post, haste to his side? The comments threatened to become more and more explicit. Sampat was greatly inhibited by the presence of his senior and his family. His silent retreat had Parbatiya worried. ''Don't you like me anymore? Didn't you want me to come?'' she would ask anxiously, until he took a few days leave to take her back home, where his responses were sufficiently amorous to allay her fears and the anger of the elders at Parbatiya's escapade. That was the last she saw of him, until ... until he came back in pieces. The Old Soldier's voice broke. ''They loved each other so much. And now? What more accursed father can there be than one who wishes his young jamai dead as early as possible?'' The raw emotions roughened his breaking voice. The words stirred through the audience crowding the tiny courtyard, bursting into a loud questioning murmur. Madha vocalized it, hesitatingly in a single word '' WHY?'' The word was a bullet shot full of question, nervousness, and wonder. ‘‘ Madha, mere bhai, you have no idea of Sampat’s condition. Parbatiya and his mother are both beside themselves. No legs, wounds in the stomach, chest and neck. Even if he escapes death, which no one is sure off, not even the doctors, how’ll he survive, what’ll he do? Sampat was a proud hero. Let him remain so. Can he beg? He has told Parbatiya he does not want to live and the doctors are not sure he will survive. And all I can think of is that if he had to go, let it be as quick as possible. But those military doctors move heaven and earth to save lives, not to lose them. If Sampat goes soon enough now, Parbatiya will get her compensation and pension quickly. I'll be able to get her married again as soon as possible. Once this political nasha is over, kya Kargil, Kaun Fauji? Who knows if they'll give the money at all then or make us run from desk to desk for years? I know, even some memsahebs had such problems for years. And they were memsahebs. What is my poor Parbatiya? If Sampat lingers on for some months, all this urgency and nasha will definitely evaporate. Phir kya hoga? That is why I pray that God relieve Sampat and my Parbatiya soon. I'll get both the girls married together." All the while Madha had listened intently. Now his face closed. His voice was taut. ''If you want to, you can get Parbatiya married. But Belliya is ours''. Instinctively, his sons and brothers closed around, enveloping both Madha and Belliya sitting at her father's feet. The eyes of the two old men met and held fast. The father's eyes, which had a few seconds before, dwelt lovingly on his daughter's bowed head with its expectant pouted lips, now turned steely, his face cold. Madha's equally stern face was hard -- was it a streak of greed? ''Belliya is my daughter. What is her place here now? Let her come home, we’ll resettle her. Uka still waits for her. He told me so'', there was a touch of pleading as his daughter slipped her fingers into his. But Madha was adamant. ''No. Belliya remains. For all we know, she may be carrying Bhim's seed, my grandson who'll inherit everything. Besides, there's work here, our lands and the new land the government has promised. Who'll work that land? Belliya'll have to do it; who’ll handle all the Fauji files and accounts and all that? Besides, if she married, they may take the land away....'' ''Let them,'' the Old Soldier burst out,'' has she not suffered enough that you pass a life sentence on her, to eke out looking after land and a bank account?'' There was more that he wanted to say...' that you're wanting to lay your hands on the land and the money, that's why you won’t let my daughter come home.' But discretion, he decided, was the better part of valor. Already the cracks had appeared and the signs were ominous. The Sarpanch and the village Bania were crowding behind Madha; and the village hoodlums, never far from money and land, had appeared like magic to station themselves near the gate. The Bania spoke up '' Faujibhai, Belliya belongs to this village now. We will look after her. I've told Madha not to worry about seed and fertilizers for the new land. As soon as he clears his old loan, I'll open a new khata for Belliya's land. The tractor loan can be paid off easily now. '' There was some sympathy in the eyes of the women as they gazed at Belliya's bowed head; each word emphasized her life sentence. Her mother-in-law was obviously torn: sympathy was writ large on her face, but the eyes were lit up, reflecting the naked greed in the circle of men, father-in-law, uncles and brothers-in-law, creditors, goons, village elders. The Old Soldier looked around for the Faujis. They were nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly being discreetly entertained at the Panchayat Ghar, well away from the savage court, which had pronounced a Life Sentence for his Belliya. ‘‘Madha,’’ he pleaded, '' you have daughters too. Let my daughter get some happiness. She has done her duty and will continue to do it towards you.'' ''This,'' came the clipped reply, '' is her duty, to look after her family. Go in peace. If she had to marry, let it be to her Bhim's memory, or to his younger brother'' (a little boy of 9?) It was abundantly clear that the vultures would never let go of this prey, nay this feast inadvertently offered to them. Belliya looked up at her father. The expectancy had left her face. It was now sallow, her eyes lifeless. ''Go, Baba,'' she said protectively, '' look after Parbatiya if you can, before the vultures get her also. Tell Uka I will meet him in the next life.'' Her voice was loud and clear. It shot a flame of fury through Madha and he would have raised his hand. His Samdhi’s look stopped him. The look was steadfast. ''You said Belliya was your daughter? What guarantee do I have that you'll look after her once my back is turned, with Bhim gone?'' There was a raucous bellow from outside. ''Who'll kill the sone ke ande dene wali margi? He'll not part with such a margi?'' An old drone stood up. '' Sharm karo. You call yourselves men? Should we call you dalals or vultures? You, who'll live off a widow and her dead husband's blood money, '' The old woman’s son shot forward to shush her. She flung him away. "Madha, makkhi chuus, now what are you?'' A babble rose, everyone speaking his or her piece. In the hubbub, Belliya led her father into the house, conscious of the careful watch of the self-appointed bodyguards. ‘‘Beti,’’ the Old Soldier spoke under his breath, ''I can get you away at night. I'll speak to the Fauji sahebs...'' ''No, Baba, no. They have tasted blood. How long can I hide from them, even at home? You think they'll let me live in peace with Uka? They’ll kill him too. All the money has been apportioned already in their minds. It is upto me now to see how long and in what ways I can hold out, to secure my own future and let them dance after me. Thank you for making me learns to write. They'll not be able to palm off any anguthas and I’ll be able to put different signatures everywhere so that they'll have to dance after me. Let them.'' '' Beti, try to understand, they may try..." She did not let him voice his worst fears. ''No, Baba. Madha'll not harm, but he'll not let go. He wants this money too badly. Go now, so that I can call you again when I need your support. Go and look after Parbatiya before the vultures get her too.'' Belliya pushed her father as if by pushing him, she was hurrying him into Parbatiya's home before it was too late for her too. January 8, 2006
The Week of January 8, 2006
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