Independence

Kirthi found the heat of Chennai oppressive. She had been working in Bangalore for five years when her mother’s ill health forced her to return to Chennai. Chennai’s climate was not the same after the tsunami of 2004 which had ravaged the southern parts of India. It had become very unpredictable, hovering on the extremities of hot or cold, making people curse. The mere thought of having to endure this climate made her depressed. Having three kids to manage at home did not help either. As she rode her TVS Scooty, her thoughts went back to her husband.

What would he say? How would I take it? Would I respond or react?

Questions flooded her mind.

It was nine in the morning. The road was congested with office going people, unaware and unconcerned about the plight of others on a mad rush towards a place they probably loathed but had to endure for the sake of feeding their families. Kirthi came out of a side lane and joined the crawling traffic. Smoke from unmaintained autos suffocated her, forcing her to pull down the visor of her helmet. The hot sun scorching her hands could hardly maintain its intensity compared to the searing pain emanating from the words of her husband reverberating in the halls of her memory.  

It had been the third year of college when she met him first. She had been the Sunday school teacher for the junior class. He had passed on a piece of paper with a hastily written I love you. There had blossomed a love that she believed to be true. True it was indeed… for some years. The joy of bunking classes to roam with her boyfriend had been a dream come true for Kirthi. She who had watched various couples dating in and out of college campus found the new relationship heady. She had believed herself to be above desires of love and secret affairs and had not been able to come to terms with the fact that she was keeping her family in the dark regarding her love. But that did not deter her from meeting him in malls and parks. The national zoo in Vandalur, Chennai had been witness to many a scene of intense petting before the couple were forced to move into his house for detailed exploration of each other’s anatomies.

“I am scared,” quivered Kirthi as Vishal’s hands ventured into places hitherto unseen by him.

“It’s nothing to be scared of dear. You’ll get used to it,” assured Vishal, not ceasing in his attempts to disrobe her.

Vishal’s room had been used for two years before Kirthi was suspected, questioned and admonished by her father. The entire family had been against Kirthi marrying the vagabond, as they called him, which infuriated her. She had been adamant to the point of threatening to elope with Vishal. It was a dejected father who gave his daughter in marriage to Vishal. Kirthi was the first in her class to be married. The wedding was a gala affair with her classmates making their presence felt; girls in the dais and boys in the dining hall.

“Wondered when this day would come… sent to a separate room by your parents and being asked to impregnate you,” guffawed Vishal as they lay in the darkness.

“Shut your mouth. They might hear you!” scolded Kirthi.

Life had been sailing smooth for a year. The major part of Kirthi’s jewels was kept in the bank to secure a loan. Vishal purchased a truckload of broiler chickens and set up a store where he could sell them. The money generated was unimaginable. With money came his true colors. He came home drunk.

“Vishal, you cannot come in drunk. You stank last night. My dad does not know that you drink,” spluttered Kirthi.

“I am sorry babe. This will not happen again,” promised Vishal.

He came home drunk every other night. The first child was named Nilan. He was the spitting image of Vishal, to the point of developing a wide girth similar to that of his father as he grew up. Two more children were born in quick succession. The second child was fair as Vishal and bright as Kirthi, which didn’t count up much. The third child was the brightest and smartest of the lot, his actions reminding Kirthi of an eager and excited pup.

Vishal had not moved out of the house for a week. The broiler business had gone down due to lack of regularity. The liquor for his pleasure was at the expense of Kirthi’s salary. He stole when she did not give him money.

He had come home one evening staggering under influence. Kirthi had opened the door, given him a loathsome look and moved inside. Vishal had moved into the bedroom. Kirthi had peeped in after five minutes to take stock of the situation. There he had been, spread-eagled on the wide bed, his clothes stripped away. His eyes had been blood-red and full of lust.

“Come… come to me,” slurred Vishal.

“I’ve told you many times that we cannot have sex when you’re drunk. I am sick of your behavior,” shrieked Kirthi, unable to keep her emotions in check.

“Why… why can’t you love me? Do you like somebody … hic… somebody else? Do you have a secret affair?” bawled Vishal.

“How dare you speak like this? You are a vehement, good-for-nothing vagabond. I am tired of your lecherous attitude!” shouted Kirthi at the top of her voice and stormed out of the room.

Kirthi’s father had looked up at her from his gardening as she had come out. Their eyes had met. He had said nothing. His eyes had been full of pain and concern. He could do nothing. She had known that. The knowledge had filled her with remorse.

A loud blast behind her jolted her out of her reverie. Closing her ears to the curses of the lorry driver, she started her motorcycle, guiding it towards the zoo. As she neared the zoo, emotions engulfed her necessitating her to stop her Scooty and rest awhile under a tree. She realized that she was standing in the same place that she had stood when she went out to meet him for the first time. She grinned wryly at the irony. Of all places, she never knew why she stopped there. Her phone vibrated harshly. It was Vishal, her husband. Not wanting to face a confrontation, she started her moped and moved past the zoo gate and took the road to the left. The beauty of the scenery in this part of the city had always captivated her. The winding roads, the dew dripping leaves swaying gently in the breeze, complacent old men seated in front of dirty tea stalls sipping tasteless liquid… all these seemed surreal… to have such an atmosphere in the outskirts of same city that sweltered under the heat a couple of kilometers away. She stopped before the police station that had the mountain as its rear wall and went inside. As she sat waiting for the inspector to come, incidents of her life flashed by.

“Why is it that your husband never sticks on to a job Kirthi?” questioned Latha, Kirthi’s sister as both of them were sitting in Latha’s living room.

“His mind is set on business. He does not like to work for other people,” replied Kirthi, smiling at her sister.

“Well… he then has to work towards that. He cannot keep wasting all money on liquor,” retorted Latha.

“I’ve talked to him many times. He just never seems to understand. It has been…” broke off Kirthi as Vishal entered the room, his bloodshot eyes round as saucers.

“Where is your husband?” he shot at Latha.

“He is inside. I’ll call him. Why don’t you sit down Vishal? asked Latha pensively.

“I have not come here to sit and carouse. Call your bloody husband outside!” bellowed Vishal.

“Shut your mouth Vishal. Why and how do you manage to spoil every single moment of peace I have? Mom is also here. She might hear you,” pleaded Kirthi in a fierce whisper.

“Your mom is a double-crossing piece of filth. Your sister goes with every other male in her office. How can I expect you to be better… you who come here to enjoy your sister’s husband? Where is that whoreson? Ask him to come out,” raved Vishal.

Kirthi had pleaded with Latha and her husband after the incident. She never visited their house again.

“Where is your husband madam?” enquired the constable.

“I have no idea sir. I have come here as informed by the inspector,” replied Kirthi meekly.

The inspector went to the next room, leaving Kirthi to her thoughts.

Vishal had approached Kirthi happily one day.

“We are going on a holiday to Ooty.”

“I do not have money to spend for a vacation now,” responded Kirthi hotly.

“You think I am going to make you spend? I have some money saved,” said Vishal.

“Money? Saved? By you? This is not the time to kid Vishal. It’s been four years since you went to a job. How did you save that money?”

“Ok. Ok… cool. My sister will take care of our expenses.”

“We cannot go depending on others to spend for us. What will they think of us? What will they think of you? Think Vishal. Why can’t you understand? Behave like a man. Were you like this all the years that you loved me? My God! How did I miss all the signs?” moaned Kirthi.

Biting back his anger, Vishal smiled and said, “We have been invited by my sister. So relax and come.”

“Ok… let us see.”

The trip had been uneventful. Kirhti found as usual that Vishal had lied and brought the whole family to Ooty. She had had only the money saved for her kids’ fee. She had quelled the rising anger and had behaved courteously to her husband’s sister. They had then gone out for a stroll.

“How dare you lie to me Vishal?” shouted Kirthi.

“You would never have come if I had asked you to,” retorted Vishal.

“So you lied and made plans to waste the money I have kept for the school fee. Is your enjoyment so important? Can’t you see what you have become? How will your children respect you if you cannot pay their fee? All you need me is to runt and to give you money for your ale. I am downright appalled by your filthy behavior,” screamed Kirthi.

“Come on Kirthi. Calm down. Leave the children in the park and come here for a while. Let me explain,” said Vishal.

Kirthi nodded to Vishal to continue and moved behind the shrubbery. Vishal lunged forward, gripped Kirthi tightly and tried to lock his lips with that of Kirthi. Kirthi struggled to free herself by pushing hard against Vishal. She succeeded and ran away from the place towards her children. Vishal came and grabbed her hand. She shrugged his hand off and shrieked, “you flimsy son of a bitch. You brought me here to satisfy your lust. This is the limit. If you come near me, I will not be the same again. I abhor the mere sight of you.”

“You bitch. I am not frightened of your threat. You are my wife. I have the right to touch you and do anything I want with you. Let me see who is here to stop me” screamed Vishal at the top of his voice and moved forward.

Kirthi picked up her youngest child, bellowed to the other two to follow her and ran out of the park. She waved her hands at the police woman standing some pace away. The police woman blew sharply on her whistle and came running towards Kirthi.

“Madam, this man is trying to molest me,” panted Kirthi.

“Who are you? Why are you chasing her?” questioned the police sharply.

“There is nothing to worry madam. This is my wife. We are just playing a game,” replied a nervous Vishal.

“Game? You lying rascal. It is true that he is my husband madam. But he is trying to disgrace me in public. I want to go to Chennai alone. Please help me,” pleaded Kirthi.

Two more police personnel had arrived who made provisions for Kirthi to leave to Chennai unmolested. Instructions were given for both of them to report in the Vandalur police station.

“How are you madam?” asked the inspector.

“I am fine sir” replied Kirthi.

“I have gone through your report. Oh… here comes your husband… come and be seated” he added, looking at Vishal.

“The incident that happened at Ooty is certainly ugly. What do you have to say?” asked the inspector.

“It was a mistake inspector. I am sure we will be alright” replied Vishal trying to smile.

“No sir. This is just one incident that has come to light. I have been living in hell for four years. I do not want to live with him” said Kirthi.

“What do you say Vishal?”

“Sir, I assure you that this will not happen” said Vishal.

“He has to learn how to earn money. He has to know what it is to earn money. He knows only to spend. He has no responsibility. I do not want to live with a coward who lives only for sex and liquor” said Kirthi sternly.

“But Kirthi, you cannot live without me in this society” shouted Vishal.

“Society? You scum. You dare talk about society? You know what our relatives and neighbours think of you? You know what the society thinks of you? I have lived so long without you in this society. It was my money and care that sustained you in this world. You learn to live in this society without me. Earn money. Learn how to save that. Come back to me after two years. Let us then decide,” said Kirthi with a straight voice.

“It is decided then. Vishal, you are not supposed to call your wife or go to her house for any reason for two years. Once in three months, you can meet your children here in the police station. If you do not abide by this, it will be a 10 year sentence for you. Sign in this paper and leave,” ordered the inspector.

Vishal signed, bowed and went. Kirthi too signed, thanked the inspector and moved out of the police station, her head held high. She remembered the time that she had loved Vishal. Tears threatened to cross her eyes, but did not. Kirthi was now truly independent… without any shackles and ready to take the world by its horns.