—— The Resolved

"What happened, man? Why has your face fallen so drastically? Did you have some sort of altercation at the office?" Anil asked, looking at Venkatesh, who had visited his house after a very long time.

Venkatesh remained silent, keeping his head bowed down. His mind was in absolute disarray. He hadn't slept the entire night. The turmoil rising within his heart wouldn't let him rest at peace in any single place. He had no recollection of when he had managed even a brief, fitful slumber. By the time dawn broke, he was wide awake. After that, any hope of a decent nap was utterly out of the question!

"What’s wrong with you, man? I keep talking to you and you aren't saying a word. Tell me what happened. How am I supposed to know unless you share it? Did you have some sort of argument at home or what?" At his friend’s words, Venkatesh grew even more dejected.

"Oh Anil! I’ve made a terrible mistake, my friend!" wiping the tears streaming down his face, he tightly embraced his childhood friend with a weeping countenance.

Anil stood frozen, not knowing what to do. This guy, Venkatesh, was his closest companion since childhood. They studied together all the way until graduation. Later, Anil went on to pursue his Post Graduation and a PhD, eventually joining a government college as a Telugu lecturer. Venkatesh, after his degree, cleared the Group-IV examination and secured a clerk's job in the Irrigation Department.

Though no major conflict had ever occurred between these two who were once inseparable, Venkatesh had completely stopped meeting Anil for the past three or four years following the incident involving Nirmala.

'He has been like this since we were kids! He tests your patience by never getting straight to the point.' Keeping his frustration at bay, Anil gently pulled himself away from Venkatesh's embrace and said, "First, sit down, brother!" He then opened the refrigerator inside and handed him a water bottle.

After drinking some water, Venkatesh’s breathing eased a little. Sinking into the chair, he kept his head bowed and lamented, "Oh Anil! It hurts so deeply, man. I truly committed a grave blunder regarding Nirmala!"

"Look, why are you pestering me first thing in the morning? When I ask you what exactly happened, you refuse to tell me. I beg you, stop this mumbling and just spill out the truth. No matter how life treats us, all of us friends always make it a point to gather on birthdays. No matter how prestigious our jobs are out there, whenever any of us visits our hometown or meets the old gang, the language and dialect of our childhood naturally rush out of us with an unstoppable warmth.

I invited this guy last night to my place for my birthday party. Did he show even an ounce of respect for my word? All our friends kept waiting, hoping he would turn up. Yet, he never showed up. We had actually resolved last night never to speak to this fellow, Venkatesh, ever again."

As if realizing that sentiment, Venkatesh said, "Anil, even though you invited me to the party, I couldn't bring myself to come. My mind and soul were in such a wretched state that I just stayed home all by myself, watching a movie. I am so sorry, my friend!"

"That’s alright, but tell me, what is the reason for your visit now?"

"Ever since the betrayal I inflicted upon Nirmala started haunting my memory, a relentless angst has gripped me. I cannot even bear to look at the faces of my father and mother. I am filled with an immense rage toward my younger sister. Nirmala keeps flashing across my mind repeatedly, man! Listening to that toxic, gossiping words, I have committed a catastrophic mistake! A grave injustice has been dealt with to Nirmala and the children."

Nirmala's visage flashed across Anil's mind as well. 'Poor soul. Where on earth is she raising those three children all by herself? What countless miseries must she endure?' He thought to himself, wondering how Venkatesh had suddenly remembered Nirmala after all these days.

"Nirmala wasn't highly educated. Yet, I lacked even the basic wisdom she possessed. If she had been as reckless and foolish as I was, God knows what would have become of the children by now!"

Attempting to suppress the surge of grief welling up within him, Venkatesh pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.

"Oh, come on! What is the use of weeping now? Didn't I tell you back then itself? I begged you not to ruin your domestic life by listening to the fabricated gossip of your family members. Did you pay any heed to my words at that moment?"

"You are absolutely right, Anil! You were the only one who truly wished for my well-being and tried to reason with me. It was I who foolishly ignored your words back then! Every other friend of ours maintained that what I did was right, and my relatives too sided entirely with me.

My mother and father callously said, 'Good riddance if she left! We will get you married again.' But not once did they advise me to pacify her with patience or firmness and bring my wife back home. Except for you, no one warned me that making a woman—especially one's wedded wife—cry would bring a curse upon us! My sister, on the other hand, told me to celebrate, saying we were finally rid of Nirmala's nuisance. What on earth happened to my intellect back then? It was as if my brain had gathered rust and rotted away. I foolishly believed that what they said was the absolute truth. I failed to recognize that day that you were my only true friend. Please forgive me!"

"Alright, let it be! What’s done is done. At least you have come to your senses now. Tell me, when are you going to your in-laws' place to bring Nirmala and the children back?"

"Oh Anil! I have absolutely no confidence that Nirmala will return just because I will go and call her! It has been ages since she left the house. She is living life on her own now. I heard she is working somewhere in Hyderabad, taking care of the children. After the grave injustice we inflicted upon her and the miseries we put her through, do you honestly think she will ever return? Nirmala wouldn't return even if she were to die. She is incredibly stubborn. I know her nature only too well," he lamented.

Meanwhile, Anil's wife walked in, served them both tea and biscuits, and left.

Anil asked his wife if the two children hadn't woken up yet.

"Today is Sunday, isn't it! What will they do by waking up so early? I'll wake them up after a little while," Anil's wife replied as she walked away.

"Look, Anil, there is something else I must tell you. I am not even attending to my job properly anymore! We celebrated my younger sister's wedding, but we didn't even invite you. My mother has even scouted a girl for my second marriage."

"Then what more do you want? Why don't you just go ahead and get married instead of coming to me? You are behaving like a man profoundly in love with his wife, crying 'I made a mistake, I made a mistake!' since early morning, and rattling my brain. Is it really necessary to waste all my time?"

"No, Anil, that’s not it. I am genuinely contemplating going to Nirmala and bringing her back. But you must accompany me! Please tell me when we can go... shall we leave next Sunday?" he asked anxiously.

"Good grief! What kind of a man are you? You just changed your stance within a matter of minutes. First, tell me plainly why on earth Nirmala abandoned you and left? Only after that shall we decide whether to go to her or not."

~*~

"Right from the very beginning, I had absolutely no desire to marry Nirmala. It was my mother and father who, blinded by the greed for dowry, forced her upon me. Out of the dowry given to me, they set aside a portion for my sister's wedding and spent the rest.

By the time we married, Nirmala was studying in her second year of intermediate. Her mother, father, and brothers pleaded that the wedding be held after her exams. But my family turned a deaf ear to their requests, hurried them by promising that we would make her take the exams ourselves, and rushed to fix the auspicious date.

Ten days into our marriage, Nirmala asked me if she could attend college. I told her it was alright to go. She was filled with joy. However, I have no inkling of what transpired once I left for the office. Nirmala never asked to go to college ever again.

After that day, I never even spent a quiet moment talking to her in private. In truth, I never bothered to show her an ounce of affection or care. No matter what my family demanded, Nirmala silently endured it all and did every chore like a mute statue. My parents went as far as pawning the gold she had brought with her. They appropriated half of the dowry she brought to fund my younger sister's wedding. They never permitted her to visit her maternal home. She shouldered the entire burden of the household single-handedly. Neither my mother nor my sister extended even a finger to help Nirmala with the domestic labor. It was an endless, back-breaking drudgery; without a single moment's rest, she would toil until night fell, continuously working on the sewing machine. My family even put a complete ban on her visiting her friend Rajeshwari next door.

When she gave birth to a baby girl during her first confinement, everyone in the house caused an immense uproar. Yet, like Mother Sita herself, the poor soul bore it with silent stoicism, never uttering a single harsh word to anyone.

During her second confinement, she gave birth to twins. They too, were baby girls. My father and others began creating a racket, claiming that my earnings would now barely suffice to raise my own children. Foolishly, I thought, 'Isn't that the truth?' Siding entirely with my family, I not only looked down upon Nirmala with contempt but even laid my hands on her one day. Though tears welled up in her innocent eyes, she never once retaliated or spoke back to me! Having birthed three daughters, my mother and father harbored a deep-seated malice against her, assuming she would never bear a male heir. To make matters worse, because my sister had given birth to a son in her very first delivery, they unleashed a torrent of sharp, sarcastic taunts upon my wife.

One day, finding an opportunity when I had gone out of town for farm work, they literally grabbed her by the neck and threw her out of the house. Even then, when I returned, I didn't even ask. I didn't even bother to make inquiries about where she had gone. When I returned home, I kept my mouth tightly shut, never once daring to look at my father and mother to ask, "Where is my eldest daughter, Sweety, who used to rush to the door calling out 'Daddy' whenever I arrived?"

After she left our house with such humiliation and sought shelter at her maternal home, I never once visited my wife. Even her parents never came to question me, asking, "How could you treat our daughter like this?" I never went, not even for the sake of my children. In truth, I hadn't laid my eyes upon her in all these years.

My routine was merely going to my job and returning. The moment the month ended, I would hand over my entire salary to my father without keeping even a single paisa in my hand; beyond that, I couldn't bring myself to focus on anything. Even though I was completely aware of the blunder I was committing, I had turned into an utterly helpless, incompetent man. My father and mother, too, never once opened their mouths to speak about my wife and children.

In fact, I spent all these years in self-blame, completely ignoring her and everyone else. It was as if I was living my life in some strange, unknown trance. A promotion that I was rightly due got stalled because of a minor oversight I made inadvertently. Since then, the stress within me mounted even further. I was constantly terrified that I might lose my sanity. I developed a profound aversion toward the work I was doing, and toward the job itself. But without a salary, surviving would be impossible. Dragging that heavy burden along, I merely went to duty every single day.

Meanwhile, my family personally took care of my younger sister’s next two deliveries as well. Throughout the duration of those confinements, my parents catered to her every need and treated my sister like an absolute queen. As long as she stayed in our house, they literally worshiped the ground she walked on and thoroughly spoiled her children. When my sister too gave birth to two daughters across her two or three confinements, my father and mother grew anxious beforehand, fearing that the son-in-law might abandon their daughter just like I had. To ensure her marriage didn't break, they accompanied my sister and her children back, clinging to her household and staying there for quite some time.

Yet, not for a single day, not even for a solitary moment, did anyone bother to spare a thought for their own son's domestic life. They never felt the urge to salvage my marriage or bring the daughter-in-law back from her maternal home. No one ever stepped forward to convince or compel her to return from her maternal home. They acted as though they couldn't care less about what became of their son and his children.

In this regard, my brother-in-law is a remarkably good man. He isn't someone who belongs to this callous modern era. He showers immense love on his daughters. Even though he isn't highly educated like me, he possesses a truly magnanimous heart.

Reflecting on all of this, I now discern the sheer selfishness of my family; they weren't concerned about my well-being but were merely terrified that the daughter-in-law might grow close to their son. Sinking into the toxic bias of 'cherishing the son like ginger and treating the daughter like sweet jaggery,' they never manifested even an iota of affection toward the daughter-in-law who stepped into their household from another family.

My mother went on lecturing me, saying, 'If we bring back a woman who abandoned her husband and left her marital home, it will tarnish our family’s honor! Forget about her entirely. Get married again, my son! Look at your father—he is restless. How much longer can our boy wander around aimlessly like an ox bound to an oil-mill? Bringing back a woman who willfully walked out on her family simply doesn't exist in our lineage. A second marriage is the only way out. Listen to my words, my son, and marry the girl your father scouted for you! How many more days do you expect me to live anyway?'

I deeply yearned to lash out at them and say, 'I am going to bring my wife back! What you have done until now is more than enough.' I wanted to reprimand them severely, but in the end, I remained completely tongue-tied.

~*~

Even during the caste panchayat called by Nirmala’s father, my mother and father blindly defended my transgressions. When false allegations were piled upon my wife, she wept, saying, 'Father, I only wish for divorce papers now. I want neither their property nor any ties with them,' my family chose to stay completely silent. Far from trying to salvage my crumbling marriage, they poured fuel on the fire and proudly barked back, 'If a mere woman can harbor such arrogance, remember that our son is a man! He can change women as casually as one discards and changes footwear. To match your sheer vanity, we will sign the divorce papers. Watch out, we will get our son remarried by this exact time tomorrow!'

But tell me, shouldn't I have possessed some basic conscience? Deep down, my own condescending attitude toward Nirmala, and the toxic pride that she wasn't a wife befitting my stature, completely blinded me from seeing the truth. I failed to place myself in Nirmala’s shoes and understand her plight. I couldn't conceive a single thought to save our marriage. What is the use of trying to lock the stable door after the horse has bolted, tell me?

Except for that one single day, I never laid my hands on Nirmala, nor did I abuse her. But listening to the toxic words of my father, mother, and sister, I drove our life to this catastrophic end. Which woman on earth would tolerate a husband who completely neglects his wife and children and shirks his responsibilities? Why on earth should she even tolerate him?

Nirmala has endured a multitude of physical and emotional trauma. Forget about this lifetime; I doubt she will ever forgive me in any subsequent birth.

We foolishly generalize that all women are the same. But that’s a lie, my friend. We, who stand up resolutely if any danger or trouble touches our mothers, elder sisters, or younger sisters, act completely indifferent when it comes to our own wives.

Nirmala sent me a legal notice for divorce just yesterday, man!" Venkatesh wept bitterly, entirely unable to contain the overwhelming surge of grief.

Anil stood tongue-tied, not knowing what to say or how to comfort his closest companion. He merely placed a reassuring hand on Venkatesh's shoulder in silent solace.

~*~

Oh! On that very Sunday, having finally uncovered the whereabouts of Nirmala’s residence, the two friends set out. Without having to struggle much, they located the house where she was staying. By the time they reached the dwelling, the three children who were playing outside in the hallway caught sight of them and stood up, frozen in fear. The eldest girl looked to be about five years old, while the twins seemed to have crossed three. Anil, rather than gazing at the children, was keenly observing the shifting, nervous colors on Venkatesh’s face.

There was absolutely no chance that the children would recognize him. Discerning the new, bright sparks of tearful wonder dancing in his friend's eyes, Anil placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. With a subtle nod, he gestured to Venkatesh to embrace the bewildered children. Just then, Nirmala walked out from the inner rooms; catching sight of them, she froze in absolute disbelief right where she stood.

Anil smiled gently and asked, "How are you doing, my sister?"

"How could I be? Did you finally remember this sister of yours after all these years?" Nirmala replied, a tinge of sarcasm tracing her voice.

"The moment I came to know about the grave injustice inflicted upon you, I distanced myself from Venkatesh as well, sister! In truth, even I discovered the reality quite late."

"Let it be, brother! If my destiny was carved this way, who can possibly alter it? Please, sit down! What brings you both here? Let me fetch some water for you," saying this, she went inside and brought two chairs for them to sit.

We two friends looked at each other’s faces and sank into the chairs. Nirmala once again went into the inner rooms and returned, handing us two glasses of cold water.

~*~

Though caught completely off guard seeing her husband accompany Anil, Nirmala quickly composed herself. 'This great soul wouldn't have set foot here without some hidden motive! There is surely something brewing,' she thought to herself. Could it be because he received the legal notice sent by her advocate? Had he come to bargain, hoping she would alter her mind? Or had he come with the intention of snatching the children away? As a barrage of unsettling doubts haunted her mind, she summoned every ounce of her inner courage.

Why would a man who never dared to cross his parents' words ever visit her dwelling? God forbid, had someone passed away in the family, and had he come to take her back just for the rituals? Looking closely at him, he appeared utterly broken and weathered. He had grown so frail, looking like half of his former self. A man who hadn't bothered to turn around and step toward her even once since she returned to her maternal home—why on earth had he arrived today?

She had been certain that her in-laws would inevitably get Venkatesh remarried. Through her friend Rajeshwari, she had been keeping tabs on every piece of news regarding him. She was secretly overjoyed when Rajeshwari informed her that Venkatesh had flatly defied his parents, declaring that he wouldn't marry again even if it cost him his life. If only he had manifested the exact same courage back then to defend her, how beautiful life would have been! This painful separation would have been completely averted for her and the children. Ever since she heard that news, a tiny sliver of hope had kindled within her heart. Deep down, she had been waiting all this while, hoping that he would eventually realize his blunder and return for her and the children.

Even as years rolled by, when Venkatesh never turned up to take them back, she had no alternative but to stifle her inner feelings and completely extinguish all her hopes.

After all, her own mother, father, and brothers were her blood, and they would genuinely wish for her well-being. Those who shared her blood would never consider her a burden. But why would the sisters-in-law, who entered the family from another household, feel the same way? Even though she was working a modest job and raising her children, she couldn't help but feel she was a burden to them. Despite her best efforts, the sharp, sarcastic remarks of her sisters-in-law occasionally pierced her ears. After all, if a married daughter resides permanently at her maternal home, she is naturally looked down upon by everyone, isn't she!

"Let’s issue a legal notice for divorce, sister. Perhaps that will melt your husband's frozen heart and compel him to return," her brothers had reasoned. Left with no alternative, she surrendered to her fate, thinking, 'Whatever happens, happens for the best,' and placed her ultimate trust in God. Who knows how much pressure her sisters-in-law had exerted behind the brothers' words? Driven by sheer helplessness, though she yourself never desired a divorce, she had yielded to her brothers' counsel and consented to serve the legal notice through an advocate. And now, out of nowhere, her husband had arrived, bringing along his closest companion. 'Let’s see what fate has written in store for me,' Nirmala thought to ourselves.

By the time she pulled herself out of these churning thoughts, she noticed the twin girls already holding their father's hands and playing lightheartedly with him. The eldest girl was seen showing some school textbook of hers to Anil.

"Manu! Take your two younger sisters inside the house and play with them, my child!" she instructed.

Without uttering a single word in resistance, the young girl held her sister’s hands and quietly walked inside.

~*~

Exhaling a soft breath, Nirmala asked, "Tell me, brother, what is the purpose of your visit?"

"What is this, sister? How can you even ask why we have arrived? Tell me, what else could it be for? Venkatesh brought me along solely to speak with you," Anil replied gently.

Venkatesh was gazing at his wife without even blinking his eyes. Though slightly short in stature, with finely chiseled features and a graceful dusky complexion, Nirmala appeared timelessly radiant to his eyes. To think that he had callously cast away such a beautiful, intelligent woman all these years, blinded by the toxic gossip of others! A profound sense of self-loathing and rage toward his own foolishness gripped Venkatesh.

Noticing her husband's intense gaze and turning her mind away, she said, "Brother! Whatever you wish to discuss, my mother and father are alive. My brothers, who have sheltered and looked after me protectively all these years, are here too. Whatever you have come to ask, it would be far better if you addressed them directly, brother! I am currently living under their shade and protection." Nirmala stated her firm stance decisively.

"I have completely realized my mistakes, Nirmala! Please, let's go back home!" Venkatesh pleaded, summoning some courage.

"Whatever you wish to convey, do not tell me; speak to my family. Whatever decision they make, I am prepared to abide by it," she replied with even greater fearlessness.

"But that’s not the point, sister!" Anil tried to intervene and reason with her.

"Brother! No matter what arguments you present, I have absolutely no desire to listen. For all these years, it was my family who sustained me and my three daughters. I cannot give you any assurance without their knowledge," she stated with added coldness.

"How can you say that sister? This is your life. This concerns the future of your children. The ultimate decision to rebuild your domestic life with your husband should rest entirely with you. What do your brothers have to do with this? If they refuse permission, would you simply abandon your husband?" Anil asked soothingly.

Nirmala let out a soft laugh, infused with pure disillusionment and turned her gaze toward her husband.

At his wife's look, Venkatesh's heart winced with a sharp pang. His eyes, which were fixed upon her, dropped down in absolute shame and guilt.

"Is that your final word then, sister?" Anil sighed with disappointment and stood up. "How could it be any different, brother? When even Lord Rama himself couldn't escape the consequences of abandoning his wife based on empty gossip, how could your friend be any different?

Let me tell you one more thing, brother! What else is there left to say? When he spent all these years living comfortably after abandoning me and the children based on the toxic gossip of his family, it was my own people who took me under their wing and nurtured me. They were the ones who kept speaking words of comfort and meticulously looked after our well-being. How on earth can anyone claim it is fair for me to ignore the counsel of my family, who taught me how to survive?" asked the sister.

"Brother! Say what you will. I shall abide strictly by whatever my brothers decide," she said with absolute clarity.

Left with no other choice, the two friends prepared to take their leave.

Nirmala noticed within her heart that her husband’s face had fallen utterly dejected at her words. Her own heart ached with pain. After all, he was the very man she had been waiting for all these long years! The very person she yearned for had arrived at her doorstep, thoroughly repentant of his blunders. Yet, she stole her heart.

"Brother! That day, it wasn't my husband who literally threw me out of the house. It was my mother-in-law, father-in-law, and sister-in-law! If his family members can personally step forward, speak respectfully with my mother, father, and brothers, and take me and the children back with genuine joy... if he doesn't object to their coming, then neither my family nor I will harbor any lingering anxiety," she said softly.

"We shall do exactly as you say, sister! There is profound honesty in your stance. What do you say, Venkatesh? This is acceptable to you, isn't it?" Anil asked, turning his gaze toward Venkatesh.

Catching sight of her husband nodding in quiet assent, a wave of compassion washed over Nirmala. Realizing that stretching her stubbornness any further would be unbecoming, she looked at her husband and gently asked, "Is everyone doing well at home?"

At Nirmala's tender words, Venkatesh, who had been staring at her all this while, couldn't contain his heavy emotions anymore; two massive teardrops that he had been holding back splattered down heavily—a sight that didn't escape Anil's keen eyes.

As the two friends stepped out of the house, Anil remarked, "Your wife is a woman of exceptional character. She is a girl possessing modern values who truly understands how to salvage her domestic life with sheer patience."

Filled with immense gratitude and love, Venkatesh tightly clasped the hands of Anil—the friend who had ultimately saved his marriage.