Dreams Out Of Reach

Parvathy was a shy doe-eyed curly-haired 16-year-old who used to accompany her mother Bhargavi to work wherever she went, like a mournful, soulful puppy, treading the footsteps of its master. Bhargavi worked in 2 or 3 houses and Parvathy helped her in each of these. But she had a special corner for my grandparents’ house because my parents were there to spent their vacations and my two-year-old brother, the apple of everyone’s eye, was all over the place with his mischief. And she loved playing with him. In fact, she used to pamper him so much that he just had to wail “Paroo…” and she would rush to scoop him in her arms and show him the birds and squirrels and the little caves and make him laugh through his tears.

One day my mother found Bhargavi in deep conversation with a tall, lanky boy of around 20, near the main gate.

“He is Keshavan, my distant relative’s son. His father was almost like a brother to me. Now both his parents are gone and he lives with his maternal uncle outside the city. Poor fellow! But he comes to visit me sometimes. He didn’t find me at home, so he came searching for me.”

“Ask him to come in. It is almost lunchtime. Take a banana leaf and serve him some food, “said my mother.

Keshavan proved to be a shy youngster who gulped twice before starting every fresh sentence. His eyes were fixed on the listener’s toenails all through the conversation. Keshavan left soon after lunch. When Bhargavi and Parvathy packed up to leave for the day, my mother saw Bhargavi take a newspaper packet along

“Keshavan brought it------a blouse piece for Parvathy,” Bhargavi smiled as if that explained it.

“Oh ho! a gift for Parvathy?” my mother laughed and teased the young girl. “why should he bring you a gift Parvathy?”

“What can I say? He is mad.” Replied Parvathy as she blushed and ran towards the gate to avoid further questions.

“Nice boy----so quiet and shy, so dignified,” was my grandmother’s verdict.

“It seems Parvathy’s life is settled. It is really a big relief for a widow like poor Bhargavi to get a son-in-law who cares for the family,” sighed my mother.

      Days passed by. It was soon after Independence and the states were being re-organized on the basis of language spoken by the majority. A new Kerala had taken birth with Trivandrum as the capital. The High Court was being shifter from Trivandrum to Cochin. My grandfather, an advocate by profession was past 65. He was in two minds as to whether he should shift to Cochin and take up practice anew or retire altogether. He chose the latter course of action. He decided to leave Trivandrum, renovate the ancestral home in the village and settle down there. So after bidding an emotional adieu to friends, well-wishers (including Bhargavi and Parvathy), neighbours and associates, my grandparents shifted to the ancestral house.

Meanwhile, what about Bhargavi, our erstwhile maidservant? She was being referred to as ‘poor helpless widow’. But what nobody knew---not even my grandparents, not even Parvathy---- was that Bhargavi was not as poor or helpless as she appeared.

Her little hut happened to be a favourite haunt of male visitors at odd hours. All of these the guileless Parvathy addressed as “uncles”. But when these very “uncles” started shooting second glances at her with the silent approval of her mother, Parvathy felt the ground beneath her feet shaking. Parvathy was aghast. After some thought, some confusion, and lot of disturbance in her mind she took a bold decision. It was time to leave her nest----- to go away. But go…. where?

Keshavan? But how could she approach Keshavan when he himself was dependent on somebody else? She tried to approach the ladies of the house she worked but every time her mother arrived on the scene, and she could do nothing about it. But Parvathy was determined---she would not follow her mother’s line. She made a firm resolve. She would try and search out my grandparents’ place in the village, where she was sure to get security, affection, and warm shelter. But she knew only three words--- District Kollam, Taluk Kottarakara and Village Pavithreswaram. Would that help? But she had already made up her mind. With a packet of one change of clothing, few notes which she had saved secretly, a strong resolve and a firm chin she got out of the house and walked ahead.

She walked and walked without thinking about the distance. For how long she couldn’t tell. Her thoughts, her tears, her frustration, her disappointment with her mother’s nature--- all these kept her company. But finally, tiredness stole over her. Daylight started dimming and the shadows grew long. She sat under a tree to ease her tired feet. A couple of pedestrians passed by whistling at her. In fact, one got close to her and asked her what her problem was. She was about to say, to blurt out when she saw him wink at another one. Parvathy got up hurriedly, took her little packet and ran. Fear gripped her. All of a sudden, she realized that she had been too impulsive. It was too late and too far from home for her to go back. It was too far from her destination too. She was in the middle of nowhere, a young girl of frail strength, little means and no protection. Tears welled up in her eyes as she prayed hard to God to show her some way. Suddenly she heard the bells of a temple at some distance. She ran towards the temple as fast as her legs could carry her and dropped down before the idol sobbing. A few minutes passed.

“What is the matter, daughter?” came a calm, soft voice from behind her. She turned and saw before her a sanyasi. Saffron clad, a smear of sandalwood paste on his forehead and rosary in his hand. She looked into his calm, expressionless face, deep sunken eyes and listened to his silky droning voice and all her problems came out---- her mother’s nature, her decision to leave the house--- everything and she felt a great weight being lifted off her shoulders.

Finally, the sanyasi spoke, “My ashram is close by. You need shelter for the night. You can stay there for the time being and proceed tomorrow. You will have no problems. Come with me.” And he walked ahead with a pronounced limp dragging his feet. Like a little lamb, Parvathy followed him without a word. At the ashram, she was given a hot meal and a mat to sleep in the kitchen. Dead tired with all the walking, she was about to drop asleep when a thought struck her. God’s ways of saving people are strange. It just occurred to her that she should bolt the kitchen door from inside before sleeping.

A soft knock. Parvathy woke up with a start- Was she dreaming. She sat up without a movement. A second knock. A third knock after a few minutes. But she did not move.

“Daughter, daughter!” whispered a soft voice. Parvathy started sweating and her heartbeat against her cheat so rapidly that she felt it could be heard all over. But she clutched at the mat and sat still. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of dragging feet move away and become fainter and fainter. But she could not sleep. Slowly she got up, opened the back door of the kitchen without making a single noise and peered into the darkness outside. For a moment she could not understand whether the darkness out in the world was more dangerous or the one within the confines of the ashram. She took a chance and stepped out. She reached the main road and walked ahead. The streetlights were few and far between, but she managed for some time till she saw a streak of red on the eastern horizon- the streak of red that would soon dispel darkness. It must have been 5:00 in the morning and Parvathy realized that she had reached a bus stop. One by one people had started coming there. At a distance, she suddenly heard the sound of an approaching bus. Parvathy could not believe her luck when she saw the board of the bus which said, ”Kollam”. She counted the notes. Yes, just about enough, and she got in. After a couple of hours of jumpy journey in a rickety bus and she reached Kollam. But her destination was further off, and she was tired and hungry. But her spirits were high. She had reached so far; she would reach the end too. Another shorter bus ride which finished her entire savings took her to our village Pavithreswaram. Now she forgot all her tiredness and pain, all her fears and insecurities. With the help of friendly villagers, she managed to find her way to my grandparents’ house. She sobbed her heart out when she met my grandmother.

“Thank God Amma, I was able to come to you. Now you are my only support. Please don’t turn me away. Just let me work and serve you here. I don’t want any pay. Just let me stay under your roof. That is all I need.” She fell at my grandparents’ feet weeping.

And it was decided that Parvathy would stay at our place as an additional domestic help. Already there was Meenakshi who took care of the kitchen and her husband Vijayan who worked in our fields. But Parvathy just merged into our household. Meenakshi accepted her as a younger sister and guided her in all kitchen work. Slowly she forgot her trauma, the kitchen and work area used to ring with her laughter and giggles. Her happiness showed on her looks too as she was approaching a flawless 18.

Sukumaran Nair was the youngest son of a well-placed family adjacent to my grandparents’ place. A smart, young, jovial person he was popular in the entire neighbourhood. Besides, he was large-hearted and helpful and would go to any inconvenience to help a person in need. So, when my grandfather fell ill after getting caught in the rain and started running high temperature my grandmother immediately sent for Sukumaran Nair. He was right there within moments and just took over the entire situation. He not only called for a taxi, took my grandfather to the nearest hospital, and brought him back but also got medicines, sat next to my grandfather’s bed giving moral support to my grandmother. He even slept a few nights at our house until my grandfather showed signs of improvement. He was sure to come at daybreak and stay the entire day next to my grandfather. His jokes, humorous anecdotes and carefree laughter seemed to infuse energy into my grandparents, and soon my grandfather was strong enough to sit up and ask for second helpings of his favourite dishes.

“You are God-sent, Sukumaran,” my grandmother remarked one-day tears welling up in her eyes. ” My children are settled in Calcutta and Madras, and you were with me all along. I did not even feel the need to call them.”

“Oh no, Amma! I was selfish in my own way. How much have you kept in your will for me?” he laughed loudly.

“You greedy fellow!” smiled my grandmother “Why do you need my will when your ancestors have hoarded enough for you? Here comes your coffee. Drink it before it gets cold.”

Sukumaran Nair looked up and glanced at the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Parvathy had approached with a tumbler of coffee. Sukumaran Nair gave her a second glance while taking it. “She is a gem of a girl,” remarked my grandmother looking at her. Parvathy blushed and turned away. Sukumaran gave the third glance and dipped into his coffee smiling mischievously.

And so unknown to the entire house, unknown to my grandparents and even to Meenakshi who was Parvathy’s constant companion, there started a gentle, very gentle, and sweet romance between Sukumaran Nair and Parvathy.

Sukumaran Nair remained a regular visitor at our place even after my grandfather recovered. Parvathy’s mother may have searched for her, but she was sure to have given up, but not Keshavan. He went from pillar to post searching for Parvathy, but nobody could give him any clue. Finally, he enquired my grandparents’ erstwhile neighbours about their whereabouts and came to known of their presence at our ancestral village. Like Parvathy, he too took a chance and came all the way to Pavithreswaram.

It was mid-morning when a self-conscious, diffident and confused Keshavan opened the main gate of our house and stepped inside looking around. As soon as he spied Parvathy passing by, he gave a shout of joy, ran towards her, caught hold of her shoulders and shook them vigorously. Thankfulness, enthusiasm, joy, eagerness---all these gave him a voice.

“Where have you been all these days, Parvathy? I have been through heaven and hell searching for you. But nobody could guide me. Thank God I found you at last!” --- he almost shouted with excitement.

“Don’t worry I am fine here” was Parvathy’s short reply as she removed his hands.

“He is my cousin Keshavan from Trivandrum” she turned and explained to my grandfather who had come to the front verandah hearing the commotion.

“Yes, yes I have heard about you,” said my grandfather pleasantly to Keshavan, “you must be tired with all the travel. Go inside and take some rest. Parvathy, serve him some coffee and snacks.”

Keshavan quietly followed Parvathy to the inner work area, the hideout of the domestics, where he got acquainted with Meenakshi and her husband too.

Keshavan came to a couple of times more. Parvathy welcomed him, spoke to him, but always seemed busy with some work or the other.

“Is there so much of work to do in this house?” he once asked her. “After all, there are only two old people here, and there are others to work too, aren’t there?”

On his second visit, Keshavan had news to give.

“I have been selected in the Army. They have posted me to Assam and I have to leave soon.”

“When are you leaving?” blurted out Parvathy. Then sensing her words to be too brusque, she added after a moment, “I mean, Assam…..It is so far from home.”

“Yes”, replied Keshavan gravely, “I am not worried about that but I am really concerned about you. You are all alone far away from anywhere.”

“But what is wrong with me?” laughed Parvathy. “I am fine here.” She craned her neck and peeped into the front verandah. A loud guffaw told her who was present there.

“Oh! ho! Sukumaran Nair is here. Now Amma would want me to make him a cup of coffee. He loves my coffee.” She half-turned towards the kitchen.

Keshavan watched her with a grim expression on his face. He bit his lips and said after a moment, “ I can see that you are fine here, so I need not worry.” He turned abruptly and walked straight towards the gate without so much as a goodbye.

Parvathy watched Keshavan’s receding form quietly. She felt deeply uneasy at the pit of her stomach. What has she done? There was something amiss somewhere. This was not the Keshavan who used to hang at her every single word despite her feigned irritation at him, nor was she the same Parvathy who used to wait listlessly for the sound of his footsteps. A moment passed. Uneasy feelings can be quashed, muffled, strangulated when they enter our zone of comfort. That is just what Parvathy did. Besides Sukumaran Nair’s coffee needed to be attended to. She turned towards the kitchen and Keshavan quietly moved into the recesses of her memory.

A couple of letters came in Parvathy’s name from Assam within a gap of a week or two. The first one she read completely, thought of sending a reply, but somehow forgot. The letter itself got lost behind a row of steel containers in the kitchen. In the second letter, Keshavan poured his heart out.

“Why are you so cold to me Parvathy? What have I done? I simply cannot understand this change that has come over you. You seem to be a totally different person now. If you have a problem be frank with me, don’t hide anything. I will do all that I can to keep you happy.”

Parvathy read the letter a number of times and heaved a deep sigh. She had to make a decision. It was time to come out with the truth. With a grim expression, she wrote her reply to Keshavan.

“You have always been with me as a source of support whenever I needed you. But fate had other plans for me. It brought Sukumaran Nair on my path. Now I cannot even think of living without him. He too loves me a lot. He has promised to marry me and take me home. What more can a girl in my position ask for? I know I have hurt you a lot, but please forgive me and remember me as your childhood companion.”

And the letters from Assam stopped abruptly.

Days passed by.

And then it happened all of a sudden. Sukumaran Nair stopped his visits to our house. He was not seen, not heard. It took my grandparents some time to register this. At first, they thought that he had gone somewhere. But it came as a jolt to them when they saw him pass by our main gate without so much as a glance at our house.

“You must have offended the young fellow somehow,” remarked my grandfather one day. You talk a lot and inadvertently say something which people may not like.”

“What! me? Offend Sukumaran?” my grandmother retorted in a huff. “Never! he understands me well but you are in the habit of sitting glum and aloof when people try to converse with you and cheer you up. That annoys them. And yet you expect people to sit up and take interest when you go on with your saga about your court cases. I have seen the poor fellow turn his face and stifle a yawn when you were on one of your such trips.”

The argument wound up then and there as neither had anything more to say, but both were upset at the disturbing turn of events. Later, during the day, while preparing the dishes, Meenakshi quietly said to my grandmother, “Amma, I have news for you.” My grandmother looked up.

“What is it, Meenakshi?”

Yesterday when I was going down the road, I met Kamala who stays near the temple. She told me that Sukumaran Nair’s marriage is fixed. And guess who is the lucky girl? It is Raman Pillai’s niece Subhadra.”

“Oh, that quiet good looking girl who used to go to town to attend Intermediate classes? Really a good match”, my grandmother smiled. “No wonder that fellow was so busy all these days.”

My grandmother hurried to the hall excitedly to spill the happy news to grandfather. Parvathy quietly came and stood next to Meenakshi and started stirring the curry.

“Why do you get involved with such gossip, don’t we have enough work in the house. It is almost lunchtime.”

“What is wrong with you Parvathy? You haven’t even taken a bath today and your eyes seem swollen. Are you unwell? let me ask Amma to give you a tablet if she has one with her.

“No, no it is nothing. I just have a touch of cold, that is all---- I was out in the drizzle yesterday.”

“But your forehead is burning. Go and lie down for some time. Let me make some hot pepper rasam for you. Have it and you’ll be fine.”

But Parvathy had no intention to be fine. She sat morosely and grew haggard by the day. As Sukumaran Nair’s wedding date drew near and both the houses were immersed in the celebrations, Parvathy’s swollen eyes with dark circles under them told the tales of disappointment and disillusionment. It was the same story all over again. The high class born, the well-bred, educated young man could not bring himself to keep up the promise of marriage to a young servant girl. The invisible barriers created by society were too strong to be broken, nor did Sukumaran Nair intend to break them.

It was midnight but seemed like daytime. Sukumaran Nair’s house was all lit up and melodious music floated in the air. It was the marriage eve. To the right of our house, a few yards ahead was the house of Subhadra, the bride. Celebrations were in full swing. People walked from one house to the other chatting happily. There was an atmosphere of merriment and fun as guests streamed into either house. With all the noise and commotion, it was quite some time before my grandparents could get their sleep. My grandmother sat up all of a sudden. Something had woken her up, but what? Had a cat entered the kitchen? No, but then what was it? Then the sound came again. A distinct gurgle.

“Meenakshi!” my grandmother hurried to the kitchen screaming. By then grandfather had also got up. The gurgling sound came from the well and Parvathy’s sleeping mat was vacant.

“Where is Parvathy? My grandmother shouted in horror. They all ran to the well. In the dim light of the lamp, they could see a part of a yellow-spotted sari floating in the water. Meenakshi’s husband Vijayan ran to Sukumaran Nair’s house next door calling out for help. Within minutes a crowd had gathered at our gate. There were people from both houses who came right inside to try and pull out the unfortunate girl who had decided to end her life. But as she had said earlier, fate had other plans. She was brought out unconscious with a deep gash on her forehead.

The village doctor was immediately sent for but it was quite some time before Parvathy could regain senses, and even after that, the only words she could mumble was “forgive me, forgive me, I was a fool.” Parvathy lay motionless, exhausted, defeated on the cane bed in the corner room with her eyes tight shut, moaning feebly. She was in pain and remained so for a week before she could get up and walk with unsteady steps. But people were quick to put two and two together and the tale of Parvathy and Sukumaran Nair reached every ear. But under the efficient treatment of the village doctor and the affectionate care of my grandmother and Meenakshi, Parvathy recovered enough to tell the family her story----the story of betrayal, of optimism, of disillusionment, of trying to reach for the stars. It was just a story of a simple young couple who were pulled asunder by a temporary bright gleam of light that brought with it darkness. Repentance is said to cleanse one’s innermost being and wash away all signs of negativity. This trauma brought with it wisdom as Parvathy sat in a corner calling out to the absent Keshavan and asking for his forgiveness.

Time passed by. One day we had a strange visitor-------an elderly gentleman, who introduced himself as Keshavan’s maternal uncle. He settled down in the verandah striking a conversation with grandfather and came out with an equally strange story. It seems that Parvathy’s last letter to Keshavan was like a bolt of lightning on him. It shattered him and he went into a deep depression. He was treated by the regimental doctor and somewhat improved. Thereafter he was sent home on long leave as advised by the doctor who hoped that he would recover with rest and a change of scene. Keshavan’s maternal uncle came to know of his involvement with Parvathy, his disappointment and the subsequent course of events from his close colleagues who had come to drop him home. His depressed state of mind, his detachment, his lack of interest in interacting with family members continued for some time. But with proper treatment and loving care, he recovered completely. Now his uncle had come to our house to talk it out with my grandfather and show him the extent of harm Parvathy’s letter had done. My grandfather took it calmly. He explained the present situation to Keshavan’s uncle, stressing the fact that Parvathy was in a similar situation in need of sympathy and understanding. She made a mistake knowingly, unknowingly and has paid a huge price for it. Grandfather suggested that Keshavan should come and meet her and talk over what both of them had been through. Our visitor was doubtful at first, but with my grandfather’s persuasion and calm insistence, he agreed. A week later Keshavan visited us with his uncle’s family. He had a heart to heart talk with Parvathy and both of them decided to walk hand-in-hand the rest of the way without ever mentioning Sukumaran Nair or the unfortunate well.