My Name is Kalyani!

Ravi was going through the contents of the old trunk box, which was the only thing remaining in the world in the memory of his great Aunt Kalyani. Ravi, aged 62, settled in New Delhi for more than 5 decades, originally belonged to a small village in Tamilnadu almost near Kanyakumari. Like all other villages, his family was also a joint family consisting of members being, his parents, grandparents, father’s younger brother and his family of three children, lastly gran father’ sister whom everyone called the great Aunt Kalyani. The reason she was staying with them, she was widowed at the age of five and had no one else in the world. Ravi’s grandfather was very fond of his sister, and she was given shelter in his house.

As a kid Ravi never had any opportunity to spend time with her. But he remembered the incident when he was 15. On the 13th day after his grandfather’s death there was a huge argument among the elders. Great aunt was silently crying in one corner and his mother and Uncles’ wife were shouting. “Why should we keep this ill luck lady? Can’t you take her? All these years I have given her food, now this is your time to offer her shelter.” Ravi’s mother was arguing which was supported greatly by his father.

His Uncle did not lag behind. “Only you did everything Bhabhi. My wife did not do anything. You are having the ancestral home, so have this ancestor too!”. At that age Ravi could not understand what this hue and cry was about. Like him his cousins Ganesh and Raghav were simply watching the family falling apart. At that time a young man came inside the house unannounced. “Don’t worry about Kalyani Grandma! I will take her to my house, and give her what she really wants, Love and respect! which you don’t understand.” said a young man who was wearing a pant and shirt which was new to that village.

The sight of him inside the house made Ravi’s mother and his aunt squirm with disgust. They just went inside the kitchen and gave some hand gestures to their respective husbands as to get rid of that man. “Hey! Pitchu! This is a Brahmin household. How dare you enter? You want to take Aunt Kalyani to your house? That can never happen. Just go away!” cried Ravi’s father. The man called Pitchu looked with hope at the great aunt. She silently came forward and blessed the man by putting her hand on the head. “May you live long with prosperity and happiness” she blessed him. “But You must come with me! With your money I studied and got a job! It’s all your blessings Maji! These people don’t understand your value! Please come with me!” begged Pitchu. “I know you will take a good care of me like your own mother, and I want to come with you. But there is something called society Pitchu. Neither you nor your family could live happily, If I come with you. These people won’t let you. Please forgive me son! My blessings are always with you. I am so sorry!” said Great Aunt Kalyani. At this point some people were shouting at her because she had touched an untouchable. Not able to bear the insult, Pitchu went with rage looking at my Great Aunt with pleading eyes.

That was the only incident Ravi remembered. After that his family moved to New Delhi and Great aunt was with his uncle’s family in the ancestral house. But when Ravi visited the village during holidays, he saw Great Aunt Kalyani in the veranda of the house, like sack she was thrown there. She was deteriorating very fast due to negligence and ill treatment. After two or three summer, she simply vanished. Because she was not remembered at all after her death.

Now here was Ravi vacating their ancestral home, as someone bought it for a huge sum. The agent said the buyer is planning to build a heritage resort. There was nothing much left at the house. Relatives had taken the utensils and other merchandise which they considered might be useful. The only thing remaining in the house was the old, rusted trunk box once belonged to Great Aunt Kalyani. Ravi was curious to know more about the life of his great aunt, because he could not think of a reason why would a higher official in a government organization like Pitchu should take an interest in his great Aunt.

Ravi opened the trunk box with interest. It contained a few sarees, a rosary, and a book. A book? In great Aunt’s box? Was she educated then? May be Ramayan or Mahabharat, with these questions he opened the book. It was a bound copy of Arta Shastra in Sanskrit. Ravi was speechless. Great Aunt read Arta Shastra? But why? What could she do with the knowledge of politics and economy? Ravi opened the book. In the middle of the book, there was a small old notebook, which was also bound to that book. Tiny handwriting had filled all those pages. With much interest Ravi started reading that. He felt as if he had traveled through time and had reached his childhood in the village again.

Great aunt Kalyani was often referred as ill omen by all. “Why be I called ill omen? I never asked them to get me married off at the age of 5. Is this my fault, that he died of cholera after 6 months of wedding? Why I have to wear white saree for a husband whose face I don’t even remember? They decided my fate and put the blame on my luck.” After reading this, Ravi could understand how pathetic her life would have been. He remembered the occasions when his mother or his grandmother called her ill omen. With an ache in the heart, he read on.

“Ok! You have made my life nothing. But at least let me get education, how I begged my father? What is the use of education for a widow like you! You have to spend the rest of your life in prayer and puja. If we send you outside what would people tell? We have other girls to marry off! That was the answer from my father. So, from the age of 10 I have to spend my time only in Puja? Why? My father married off my elder brother 1 year ago. His wife died of some unknown disease and next month my brother is getting married again. Why this society treat men in a way? And women in a bad way? Why this huge cry about Chastity? Just to make sure that, the womb which carried the off springs of one man should never carry an offspring for any other man? Even If I take this argument as correct, why punish girls who were widowed even before puberty?”

Ravi felt a nail had been pierced in his heart. Not able to read further he skipped some pages and saw the word Pitchu. He stared reading further from that page.

“Thank God! I have some property of my own, given by my father-in-law even after the death of my husband. A steady income from the farmland makes me feel confident. Otherwise, my relatives are bound to make me feel like a worm. Yesterday Kuppi came to me crying. “Is this our fate Maji? We have to serve the upper crest and die in misery? I don’t want my son Pitchu to follow that. I will educate him. The school in our village is not accepting him Maji! What is our fault? If God is responsible for birth and death, then he is the one to be blamed for making us take birth in this caste.” This was like seeing my reflection. I decided to help her. “Kuppi, If I say something will you do?” I asked her. “Without any hesitation Maji! You are the only soul to whom we can talk freely and get sympathy. Tell me Maji! You need anything?” asked Kuppi. “I have a farmland nearer to the city. Go there with your family. You and your husband can work on the land, in the money you can educate your children.” For a second Kuppi was speechless and next second she was at my feet. Her tears were on my foot.”

Oh! So that was the reason why Pitchu was offering to take care of Great Aunt. What a woman she was? Reading difficult books! Thinking revolutionary ideas, helping people who were called untouchables by the society. All these she did 65 years back! But what she got in return? Loneliness, insult, name callings and cruel treatment. With teras in his eyes, Ravi closed the box after carefully placing the book back.

“May I come in?” A young voice came from the entrance of the house. A girl of age 25 was standing. “Yes!” replied Ravi. “I have bought this house to convert into a resort. I will be keeping most parts of the house as it is for it’s a heritage. I came to see whether you have taken everything you need!” said the girl with courtesy. “Yes! Yes! There is only one box left behind. I will leave in a few minutes” said Ravi with a heavy heart. After all it was his ancestral home, where he played, studied, and enjoyed many occasions.

“Take your time sir. My grandfather insisted me that I buy this house, By the way My name is Kalyani” the girl extended her hand. Ravi placed the handle of the Trunk box in the extended hands of the girl and walked away. Kalyani stood there watching the old man walking away wiping his tears.