KANCHAN

HEMA NAIK

Kanchan was so absorbed in the dances and songs, she forgot herself for a while. The entertainment programme enthralled and transported her into a different world far away from her miserable plight. Feeling relaxed, she came out of her house. But the people misunderstood her behavior. They wouldn't stop staring at her. 

"She has lost her husband. And how she flirts!" This was the usual gossip. Something happened today, too! Thank God, she was sitting in the first row; they didn't have to waste their energy in twisting their necks for a stare. Otherwise the hateful words would be echoing from one pair of lips to another in the whole crowd.

"That's Kanchan, Dinesh's widow, sitting over there." And more and more eyes would have been riveted upon her. Every one of them would have made a face. Obviously, Kanchan, helpless, would have been compelled to bow down her head. At such junctures, they feel Kanchan does not respond due to the severe grief of the loss of her husband. But more than that sorrow, Kanchan gets irritated by the nagging comments of the people around. Their penetrating taunts re-opened the yet unhealed wounds in her heart.

In their opinion, Kanchan was a woman of bad repute. They could not stand a widow mixing with the other women in society. This was the root of all envy and hatred. She ought to imprison herself within the four walls.

Four months had passed since the death of her husband. The signs of this agony were deeply embossed on her heart. Would they possibly appreciate the gravity of her situation? Had she kept herself locked day and night in her room, everyone would have pitied her. They would have then said, "Poor girl! She loved her husband deeply." Nevertheless, the same people would now comment openly, "Insensitive. Callous ruthless lady. She is not shaken a bit by the death of her husband."

More and more people in the beginning criticized her. In the beginning she would feel severely hurt. The humiliating remarks would injure her heart. But nowadays she was saturated enough to face it. The emotions had turned immune. She simply endured the criticism and kept mum.

There was gossip even before her marriage, but of a different kind. Whenever she talked to a boy, they would link her up in a relationship with him. They would tease her with his name. 

"Love and romance ought to be shared with only one boy." Those words still remained live in her diary.

And after the marriage - 
"After tasting the love of a dozen boys, she finally chose Dinesh." She was still drenched with the rain of criticism. Kanchan has had varied experiences of the harsh world. She has suffered a lot.

The programme was over. She rose from her seat. She would have been lost in the emerging crowd when she saw Rajneesh sitting in the row behind. She smiled; he too! A woman walking behind her nudged her companion, and taunted, "the two will certainly get married one day!"

"Oh! A second marriage that's incredible!" retorted another lady. Kanchan didn't pay heed to his loose talk. She pushed her way through the crowd. She led her son, Rajesh, into the car and drove back home. It was Rajesh's school concert. The piercing taunts had left her seething with persecuting anger. Her family wanted to send her to programmes outside so that she could relieve herself of her depression.

Kanchan entered her room and changed her clothes. She folded her sari neatly and kept it in the cupboard. To her astonishment, she noticed that the cupboard was overflowing with saris and expensive dresses. She examined the elegance of her clothes. "The sari will be of use only when six years old Rajesh will grow up and marry. Till then they will rot over here in the cupboard!" Kanchan murmured to herself.

It was a costly green 'shaloo' (special silk sari). Very graceful. Kanchan unfolded it. For long, she has yearned to wear it. Gently she dressed herself in this shaloo with a matching blouse and looked in the mirror. Dinesh emerged out from the photograph and stood close to her. She felt, he put kumkum on her blank forehead and admired her. "Incredible. You look most beautiful." Kanchan was zapped. She stared at the photograph. Was it a hallucination? She cried out bitterly, "Why did you depart from me before the shaloo was tattered to pieces, my darling?"

Hurriedly, she took off the shaloo and wore her usual sari. She felt a sense of fear. She cursed herself for that strange, foolish act. For a moment in her fury she wanted to dab the clothes with kerosene and set them on fire. But she pulled herself up. She slammed the door of the cupboard and hurried inside for her dinner.

She could not concentrate on her food. Her appetite was lost. Many a time, the obsessive suicidal thoughts of drinking poison crept into her mind. But the very thought of little Rajesh would pull her out of such thoughts. Still one day, she tried committing suicide, but, on the spur of the moment, Rajneesh arrived to save her.

Rajneesh was Dinesh's intimate friend. The day Dinesh expired, Rajneesh had consoled her, "Vaini, I'm sorry! I can feel the gravity of your grief. No one can share it. You alone have to bear the trauma. But trust me, please. I promise and assure help in times of crisis. I'll always care for you and be by your side in adversities." Since then Rajneesh frequented her house regularly. In that depressing phase, he consoled her, inquired after her needs and took care of her. After a few days, he arranged the tickets of a stage play for her. It was nothing more than a pure relation of just being a friend. But no one would stop rumor-mongering, "Kanchan and Rajneesh will definitely marry soon."

She somehow managed to push two morsels of food down her throat and got up. Her sister-in-law sympathized, "For how long will you torment your soul?"

A long silence fell. She washed her face at the basin and dashed to her room.

"Mummy, give me a kiss." As usual Rajesh was holding the edge of her sari. He always kisses her before going for sleep with Aka (Dinesh's sister).

Kanchan switched on the lamp and closed the door. She arranged the bed properly, dusted the bed-sheets and lay down. This is the 125th night in the bed. The last 124 nights were spent waking restlessly. Fear and tension overpower her in the dark loneliness of every night, and, therefore, the lamp is aglow throughout the night. The lamp is her only companion. Hr gaze is fixed at Dinesh's photograph. Way back, the same lamp had been an obstacle for her. Whenever she entered the room, the first thing she would do was switch off the lamp. And then Dinesh, holding her in his arms would yell, "Crazy woman, are you afraid of the lamp?"

She would blush and in the thick darkness they would spend hours together making love. The love would not end till the early hours of dawn. Every night, the same love, fresh and endearing, the same train of words!

But the fate turned all the dreams into nightmares. Quite suddenly! Without a hint of warning! Dinesh breathed his last on the spot in a scooter accident. In fact he tried to open his mouth to scream loudly, but... She opened the window. She could see the entire surrounding from there. Four beautiful rosebuds were cropping in the rose plant. They will have to wait till the dawn to blossom. Kanchan's hand desperately rose to feel her plaits. Her eyes moved from the rose buds to the drumstick tree. At that instant, a few flowers dropped off its branches. "The useless flowers will be trampled upon by the passerby, like my meaningless life is." She sighed, somberly.

She closed the door and lay again on the bed. She was 31. Dinesh tried to fulfil all her fancies and desires. People admired the ideal couple. But the same people were now expressing doubt about their love.

Like an oasis in the desert, among all, only Rajneesh was considerate. Kanchan sympathized with him. One day, she poured out her heart to him...
"People doubt us."
"What about?"
"They talk about our relationship."
"I don't care."
"No. But I'm worried about your prestige."
Rajneesh interrupted her and screamed emotionally -
"Let the world go to hell. I'm not bothered. But if at all you agree, I'm ready to marry you."
A strange silence took over the atmosphere.
"I'm sorry. I probably hurt your feelings." 
And Rajneesh deftly changed the subject.

Rajneesh was a bachelor. A couple of years ago, he was involved in a love affair, but the girl betrayed him. She got married to another boy. Rajneesh could not bear the shock and decided never to marry.

A panicked Kanchan opened the door again. The day was just breaking. Sunlight descended on the garden. The whole night she had been wide-awake! Everyday the same fears. She switched off the lamp. Flowers came out in the rose plants. The drumstick tree, which had shed leaves throughout the night, was now still and quiets. For an hour she stood there, impassive, staring at the garden lost in her thoughts. Finally she made up her mind. 

She turned to pick up the bunch of keys and opened the inner locker of the cupboard. She took out her 'mangalsutra', prostrated before Dinesh's photograph and put on the 'mangalsutra' round her neck. She also put on gold rings, bangles and other ornaments. She held the kumkum box in her hand. In this attire and adornment, she came out of her house.

"I hope now at least they would shut their mouths." Kanchan felt.
Whenever she joins a social gathering with a bare neck and blank forehead, all eyes turn to her. To avoid these tortures, she changed herself. Her family members were flabbergasted to see this transformation. She must have gone mad, they thought. Kanchan knew that Rajneesh would be sitting outside. She came out and handed over the kumkum box to him, "Put the kumkum on my head and make me savaishinn (married woman) again.

Rajneesh was stupefied.
"Vaini, Kanchan..."
He was too frozen to say anything.
"Go ahead, put the kumkum. Believe me. I am dedicating my life to you."
Rajneesh stared at her with his mouth agape. He applied a pinch of kumkum on her forehead. Kanchan heaved a sigh of relief.

No longer will the world bark now. The gossip will not last beyond a few days. "Kanchan the widow got married."

(Translated from Konkani by Mukesh Thali)