Made in Heaven (Short Story)

Made in Heaven 
===============================
Has anyone truly seen heaven? Yet people say that marriages are decided in heaven. When Ramamohan went to see Radhika for the first time, he seemed to read her heart with his inner vision at that very first meeting. Ramamohan, who used to be extremely choosy while looking for a prospective bride, somehow found himself completely bowled over the moment he saw Radhika.

His childhood friend Braja Mohan, who had accompanied him, whispered in his ear in astonishment, “All along you were searching for a fair-skinned, perfectly shaped, smart girl. How come you surrendered yourself to this simple, dark-complexioned girl?
Well, how does it matter to me ? I will be happy with  the sumptuous wedding feast!”

Infact after seeing Radhika, sleep deserted Ramamohan’s eyes.Only he knew what priceless pearl he got while searching the unfathomable ocean of Radhika's expressive eyes.

Soon Ramamohan brought Radhika home as the Lakshmi of his household.
His younger brother Jagamohan had been waiting for his elder brother’s marriage. For the past three years a girl had been in love with him and kept urging him, “Take me away soon, otherwise my parents will marry me off somewhere else. Then you will be searching for stars in the daytime.”
So Jagamohan did not wait even a single day. He married his beloved Parinati and brought her home.

With the presence of the two daughters-in-law, the house dazzled into life and laughter. Since their parents had already passed away, the house had long remained without a guiding elder. Radhika took up that responsibility and turned the home into heaven. The two sisters-in-law lived together like real sisters.

Ramamohan worked as a teacher in the village school. His younger brother Jagamohan was a clerk in the Odisha Secretariat. Since their village was only about thirty kilometers from Bhubaneswar, Jagu (Jagamohan) traveled daily by shuttle train.

Radhika would wake up early in the morning, clean the house and courtyard, finish her bath, arrange flowers for the household deity, and complete all the cooking by eight o’clock. She would also prepare Jagamohan’s tiffin. While Ramamohan went for his bath after finishing his morning routine, Radhika would iron his shirt and trousers. She did all these tasks at lightning speed early in the morning, and people would often remark in amazement, “She is truly a lightning girl!”

Ramamohan felt immense joy in his heart. After finishing his worship and breakfast, he would wear the freshly ironed clothes and almost every day call Radhika into the bedroom. In half closed door, he would hold her in his arms, kiss her on the forehead and say, “Madhurena samapayet(—a meal should end with something sweet.) This kiss is equal to a 'rasagola'. Understand, Radha?”
Blushing shyly, Radhika would reply, “Oh, stop it! I cannot give you a rasagola every day.”

Ramamohan’s house had now become a complete and happy family. These days many friends and relatives visited frequently. Radhika treated everyone with affection and respect. When nieces and nephews came, they would cling to the end of her sari and follow her everywhere calling “Aunty, aunty!” and she fulfilled all their little demands.

Radhika also planted all kinds of vegetables in the courtyard. The eggplants bent under the weight of their fruits, fresh ridge gourd and lady’s finger were picked every morning. Some were cooked, some shared with neighbours  and some were sent to relatives. The garden in front of the house bloomed with colorful flowers of many varieties. Every afternoon the two sisters-in-law worked in the garden. Radhika would say, “Instead of watching useless quarrels between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law on television, why not work in the garden ? Serving plants is equal to serving one’s mother. Just as a mother feeds us, trees and plants also take care of our hunger.” The plants too seemed to love Radhika. Whenever she touched them lovingly, an unspoken exchange of feelings seemed to take place between them.

Ramamohan’s village was not far from Jagannath dham Puri. Once or twice a month, usually on Sundays, he would take Radhika there. After having the darshan of Lord Jagannath, the two would spend a long time on the seashore. Resting in Ramamohan’s lap, Radhika would say softly, “Listen… I don’t feel like leaving this place. Let us sit here the whole night.”
Emotionally moved, Ramamohan would reply, “Truly, Radhika, my life is incomplete without you. You take such good care of me and have turned my house into heaven. But what have I given you? I am just a poor primary school teacher. What can I give you?”

Placing her hand over his mouth, Radhika would say, “Don’t say that. Who says you are poor? You are my richest treasure. Of all the blessings I have received, you are God’s greatest blessing and gift to me .”

A year passed after their marriage. Ramamohan felt that Radhika had filled every empty space in his life.
Alas! One day fate cast its cruel glance upon Ramamohan’s golden household and turned it into dust.
That morning after breakfast Ramamohan called out, “Radhika, where have you kept my ironed shirt and trousers? Come quickly, it’s time for my school.”

Radhika was in the backyard garden. As she hurried toward the house, her foot slipped on the stone steps. Her head struck against a sharp stone. Blood began to gush from her head and she fell unconscious on the spot.

Parinati was nearby and screamed, “Come quickly! Sister has fallen!”
Ramamohan felt as if his heart had stopped beating. Carrying Radhika in his arms, he rushed her in their neighbor Sudarshan Babu’s car to Bhubaneswar. Radhika lay unconscious in his lap. Two drops of tears from Ramamohan’s eyes fell upon her forehead.

After two days in the emergency ward, Radhika regained consciousness—but she had permanently lost her power of speech. Ramamohan consulted many renowned specialists, but nothing helped.

Radhika returned home, but she had become a different person. With much care she slowly began to walk again, yet mentally she had turned into a little child. Day and night Ramamohan devoted himself to her care—from bathing her, dressing her in a sari, combing her hair, to feeding her, everything he did without complain . Eventually he had to resign from his job. He began practicing homeopathy and managed the household with whatever little he earned from his practice . His younger brother also helped him in managing the house.

Free advisers are plenty in this world. Some people advised Ramamohan to marry again so that his lineage might continue. Others suggested..“Leave her at her parents’ house. Why burden yourself by keeping a mad woman with you?”

But Ramamohan firmly silenced them:
“Radhika is my better half. If one of my limbs becomes paralyzed, should I cut it off and throw it away? If the accident had happened to me instead, would Radhika have abandoned me? And you talk about remarriage to continue my lineage? Radhika is my son,daughter everything —she is my life.The advisers fell silent.

Years passed. Crossing youth, Ramamohan and Radhika entered middle age and then old age. Finally the end of Ramamohan’s life approached. A few months before he breathed his last he was worried as to who would take care of Radhika after him.

When his end was near, he called his younger brother to his bedside and said --- “Jagu, do not neglect my Radhika. Who else does she have?" and there after he departed for his heavenly abode.

Moments after Rammohan's death, Radhika collapsed on her husband's body.Though the doctor was called in, he declared her dead.

The news spread like wild fire in the village. People gathered in large numbers and everybody's eyes were moist in grief. People were talking  ---"Such love is paired only in the Heaven"...

(KulamaniSarangi)