Destiny

30. HER Father's Death

It was Deepavali, the festival of lights.
All of Bombay seemed to be exchanging
gifts, consuming enormous quantities of sweets, and throwing parties.

Satya had left for Mysore where his mother and sisters were eagerly waiting
for him. Anupama had helped him buy gifts for his family. When he had tried to
buy her a sari as a gift, she had refused to accept it.

‘Satya, I have everything I want in life, and I am very thankful for that. When
I need something I will definitely ask you.’

Vasant had tactfully intervened, ‘Satya, buy lots of crackers for Anupama and
I will help her burn them on Deepavali night.’

Since Vasant did not have a family with whom he could celebrate the festival,
Anupama invited him home.

‘Vasant, please stay for dinner. I have called my students, too.’

Vasant happily accepted her invitation. It had been a long time since he had celebrated Deepavali. How different it had been in his childhood! Even though
they had been poor, they had celebrated the festival with great enthusiasm and in keeping with its true spirit. His mother would give him a leisurely oil-bath early in the morning, despite his protests. And then she would prepare sweets for the
festival.

Although they had lacked the comforts that money could buy, their
poverty had cast no shadow on their happiness.

Vasant arrived early at Mary Villa on Deepavali. He had bought a collection
of Bernard Shaw’s plays as a gift for Anupama. She looked relaxed and cheerful, as usual. Watching her, he wondered if she had ever felt any unhappiness. Her face always glowed with contentment—it was as if she was one of the lucky few who were happy all the time.

‘You shouldn’t have bought me a gift, Vasant.’

‘My mother taught me never to go empty-handed to meet a friend.’
Anupama’s mind suddenly went back to her mother. She did not have a single
photograph of her. If she had lived, she would probably have given her advice
just as Vasant’s mother had.

Vasant was looking at the beautiful rajanigandha, marigold and cosmos
blooming in her garden. They were all dancing in the evening breeze in harmony with one another; and yet, they were all so different. He looked at
Anupama and, noticing her silence, said, ‘It is difficult to forget one’s mother, isn’t it?’ Sadly, Anupama answered, ‘I never had the luxury of knowing my mother. It is impossible to replace a mother’s love.’

With her father, it had always been more a bond of duty than love. When she
had got a job in Bombay, she had sent half her salary to her father. But she had
had got a job in Bombay, she had sent half her salary to her father. But she had never felt like going back home. She never shared her difficulties with him
either.

Her father had mixed feelings about her. He was happy that Anupama
was economically independent and had settled down. But he was an old- fashioned person; and he felt that she should go back to her husband. He
believed that a woman’s ultimate sanctuary should be her in-laws’ house—single women were not respected in society.

Satish was worried that people would gossip about her and it would reflect on him. He repeatedly wrote to her to plead with Anand to take her back, and not get upset with him. Anupama found such advice distasteful after the emotional trauma she had endured. Despite that, she knew that Shamanna cared deeply for her.

One day, a telegram came from the village—Satish had died of a heart
attack. With his death, the last link with her past had been severed. Sometimes,
she felt that perhaps her problems and the way she lived now had caused him
unbearable tension and ultimately his heart attack. But Anupama was unable to cry. There was no point in returning to her old house now that her father was
gone. Anupama sent some money, which she had saved with great difficulty, for
her father’s last rites.

Unexpectedly, she got a four-page letter from her step-mother.

"In life, one should not take the things people say so seriously. I might have been harsh to you, but that was only because of the tensions at home. When you got married into a good family, we thought you would settle down well. But when things went wrong, we faced a lot of problems. Please forget all those things. Bombay is a big city and you must feel lonely. If you want, I will send Nanda to keep you company. I am going back to my mother’s place. My brother will help
me find suitable alliances for my daughters. Your sisters do not have a father now and you, being the eldest, should step into his shoes and look after them. Your financial help is very essential for your sisters’ weddings. . .and so it continued.

Anupama was disgusted. The same person who had spoken of Anupama as a ‘bad omen’and a ‘rejected wife’ among other things, knowing very well how
those comments would hurt her, was asking her for help today.

All her life, she had taunted Anupama and made her cry. But now that she was earning, she had suddenly become important. Anupama felt sick.

But somewhere, deep inside, she felt she had a duty towards her stepsisters. She decided to send money just as she had when her father had been alive, but have nothing to do with her step-mother and her daughters. Emotionally, they meant nothing to her.

As for Anand, he, too, had shown with his actions that an emotional bond
could be broken all too easily. I am truly alone.

‘Anupama, what are you thinking?’

Vasant’s voice broke into Anupama’s
reverie.

‘How do you define beauty?’ she asked.
Vasant was startled by her abrupt question. ‘I am not a philosopher or an
artist, so my opinion on the subject is immaterial.’

‘Still, I want your opinion,’ Anupama insisted.

‘Nature has taught me all that I know about beauty. Look at these flowers,
Anupama, they come in so many different colours and fragrances; the sky with its myriad shades of blue; and the birds each one so different from the other. No artist can recreate the vibrant colours of nature on canvas. We think we know all about beauty, but what we understand is that external beauty is shortlived. Even the most beautiful people change as they grow older. But the beauty of Nature is permanent.
‘Once I was travelling with my friends through the Valley of Flowers in the
Himalayas. The sheer beauty of the valley made me realize how foolish human beings are to seek artificial beauty with cosmetics. ‘One’s beauty is seen in one’s nature. A good human being who is compassionate to others, who tries to understand the other person’s difficulties and reach out to them in their hour of need has real beauty. Such people should always be cherished and honoured.’

His passionate speech surprised even Vasant. He saw a flicker in Anupama’s eyes, but did not know that she was thinking about Anand. Anand had been bright, sharp, and intelligent, but very immature! He had never ever thought of beauty in such terms.

Just then, Anupama’s students bustled in and, pushing back all thoughts of the
past, she stood up to greet them.
‘Vasant, this is Vinita, Shashi, Rekha. . .’
‘Ma’am, we know Doctor Vasant. We met him when you were in the hospital.’ Anupama smiled and Vasant felt as if a thousand lights had been lit in the room.