It was a usual bright morning in the quaint little town of Malgudi. Venkatesh an early riser was on his way to the vegetable market. A Physics teacher in Malgudi’s Albert Mission School it was a special day for him. Dressed in white, he wore a lungi folded up from his knees and a glaring white shirt. His brand new red moped twinkled under the sun. Beaming, he drove it at a snail's pace. The overwhelming aroma of a bottle full of coconut oil came off from his hair. He had neatly-combed them on either side.
‘Humpf!! You don’t get anything pure these days. Everything seems to be adulterated. What will happen to this country, God knows…’ he grumbled, shaking his head.
As if Mahatma Gandhi, just before slumping on the ground, handed him the responsibility of the nation. Entitling him as Ah.... Two long strands of hair had fallen on his forehead making him halt for the second time. Irritated, he turned off the motor, straightened them up and pedalled forwards.
‘What masterji!!? New moped?’ a man called out, returning from a field nearby.
A lota in his hand, wearing a chequered boxer and a white banyan he stood at the opposite side of the road. His boxer laces hanging up-to the knee he had his eyes fixed on Venkatesh’s motorbike.
Venkatesh quickly landed his two legs and killed the low dull sound of the motor.
‘Yes Thanappa! I bought it yesterday….’ he replied, flashing his white teeth. ‘You know it has a top speed of fifty.’ he bragged.
‘Arre, Venkateshji? Why have you fitted a torch in-front? Turnoff your head light….! It’s day, not night!!’ Thanappa laughed.
‘You will not understand that. It’s a bit complicated for you.’ Venkatesh retorted sharply.
A Physics teacher that he was he applied his knowledge wherever he could. A dynamo fitted on the pedal chain, a torch tied in between the handles, a thin wire connected both. His backbreaking pedalling made the torch flicker faintly.
‘Humpf! From where do such stupid people come from? Number one, joker!!’ he mocked the man within.
‘Achha? If it has a top speed of fifty then why are you driving it at fifteen?’ Thanappa asked. He had crossed the road and walked up to him.
‘I am leaving. I have work.’ Venkatesh exclaimed pedalling away fiercely.
‘Arreee…! Give an answer Masterji… Where are you going?’ he shouted trying to call him back.
Venkatesh hated such people who simply wasted their time. ‘Humpf! They will waste their time as well as my time.’ he rebuked. ‘Go and bathe first! Dirty fellow!!’
Finding himself in a tricky position he scampered away.
‘Who will take care of my family if something happens to me? He will…’ he declared inside.
His excuse, time but the fact that he was scared of driving relatively fast was his primary concern.
‘It’s my moped, my light. It is turned on or off, day or night…who is he to comment on it?’ he continued murmuring. ‘Humpf! There is no shortage of jokers in Malgudi.’
Venkatesh finally reached the market huffing and puffing. He parked his vehicle right at the entrance, looked around, touched the seat, prayed silently for a minute and went in.
‘I have to be aware. There are plenty of thieves in Malgudi.’ he mulled turning back time and again.
‘Have I locked it!!?’ he panicked. He ran back, took out the key unlocked it only to lock it again.
‘Namaste Masterji. You came so early today?’ a vegetable vendor greeted as a jittery Venkatesh approached him.
‘Yes, I bought a new moped so reached quickly.’ he replied smiling.
‘What will you buy today? It’s a very special day…’ the vendor lured.
‘Give these vegetables to me. Hurry up! I need to leave quickly.’ he said, jerking his fingers. The names and quantity of them were listed by his wife. He took out the long piece of paper from his chest pocket, uttered the names out promptly, handing over the muslin bag to him.
‘Wait, wait masterji...I don’t have everything...’ perplexed, the vendor exclaimed.
‘Give me whatever you have. Please, hurry up!!’
Venkatesh snapped his fingers, pleading. A shabbily dressed man lurked around his treasured possession. He had his eyes set on his moped. The vehicle in-sight, sparkling under the sun, he was wary of the filthily dressed man. The seller in the mean-time weighed the vegetables diligently and stuffed them in his bag.
‘Hurry up! Give it to me, quick!’ he asked looking away, worriedly.
‘That man...’ he uttered stopping abruptly.
‘He will steal my motor vehicle. I have to keep my eyes on him.’ he told himself, frowning.
‘What happened, Masterji? Who is there?’ the vendor asked. Perched on a cement platform he leaned forwards, searching.
‘Huh! Nothing. Give me the bag.’
‘It has everything except these two vegetables.’ he stated. Holding the list in-front of Venkatesh he pointed out the names. An inattentive Master looked away. His mind was full of grave thoughts.
‘Masterji! Are you listening?’ he cried out.
‘Huh! Everything is fine.’ he said, grabbing his bag. He paid the vendor quickly and scooted out.
‘Phew! God saved me today.’ he thanked feeling relieved on touching the handle of his moped.
‘Give me something to eat, sahab!’ the beggar uttered, trudging backwards. The strict school teacher kept quiet.
‘Sahab?’
The beggar called out again. He touched Venkatesh’s speckles white shirt.
‘I don’t have any money. Go, away, please...’
He unlocked his moped. Set the bag down on the narrow platform and struggled to get away, quickly.
++++
‘You did not bring pumpkin...and peas...?’ Sumitra, his wife asked.
‘I...’
‘You are leaving tonight, how will I manage the rest of the week?’ she criticized.
‘Sumitra...I had some work today so could not bring everything.’ he lied. ‘Where is Lakshmi?’ he asked changing the topic.
‘She is sleeping. But I had given you the list, how could you forget?’ she scolded.
‘You know what happened...!’ he cried out recalling the beggar’s dreadful face. ‘Thank-God that I reached on time otherwise...There are plenty of thieves in Malgudi. Even going out has become a problem these days.’
Sumitra kept quiet believing in his husband’s words. She continued hanging her clothes in the courtyard to dry.
‘My train is at eight o’ clock in the evening. Pack my clothes in the suitcase and also my dinner.’ he instructed his wife, getting up.
‘But the station is only fifteen minutes away, what will you do for one hour?’
‘Do these big trains run on time? I don’t want to take a chance plus it will also get dark by then...’ he feared, going in to his room.
‘Lakshmi, get up.’ Venkatesh commanded his seven year old daughter.
‘Shall I serve you coffee?’ his wife inquired, standing at the door.
‘Let her get up first.’ he replied in a stern voice. ‘Laksmi get up. You should not sleep so late otherwise you will become a bad girl…’
‘Hmmm...Pitaji, let me sleep, no!’ Lakshmi cried out.
++++
‘Don’t cry unnecessarily.’ Venkatesh told his wife; his tone harsh. Standing at the doorstep with his suitcase in hand he was ready to leave.
‘Take this torch and umbrella with you. It might rain any-time soon.’ his wife offered wiping the tear drop from her face. Gusty winds blew as twilight slowly faded away.
‘Pitaji, where are you going?’ a pony-tailed Lakshmi asked.
‘I am going far away, go inside.’
‘Hmmm...’ she emitted shaking her head.
‘Travel safely and please, come back quickly.’ his wife advised.
‘Take care of the house. Lock the doors and windows in the afternoon itself and don’t go out anywhere in the evenings with Lakshmi.’ he released a multitude of warnings. ‘As soon as I finish my work I will come back. It’s just a matter of few days.’ he said, tranquillizing himself more than his wife. With a heavy heart he waved his hands and walked away into the darkness.
Giant drops of rain had started bouncing on his nose. Looking up to the dark clouds, he clicked open his umbrella. Deafening thunder and dazzling lightning in the vicinity. The blustery winds threatened to drift his frail umbrella away; his hand in danger of breaking away along with it. The rain was getting heavier by the minute. Wet from his waist, Venkatesh walked swiftly towards the railway station. Seeing the station bulb lit from a distance, a sense of comfort filtrated down to his gut. The tracks just hundred metres away, a banyan tree the only dimly lit shelter he decided to run and post his half-drenched body under it.
‘Where are you going, sahab?’
A woman’s voice made him stop on his tracks. He flashed his torch on. A young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a tattered saree called out. Legs folded up, hands tied around them she sat by the roadside. Her body wet, her sleekly curved figure was visible from her soaked, transparent clothing. He shut his torch instantly, viewing it from a close range.
‘Who are you?’ taken aback by her sudden presence he shouted at her.
‘The weather is not good, sahab. Don’t go.’ she warned.
‘You don’t have to worry! Go, do your work.’ he told her, flashing the torch on her face to have a close look. The falling rain drops were skiing down her fair face. Her body attractive he switched it off looking down for a brief moment.
‘My house is close-by, you can take shelter there until the train arrives.’ her hand shivered as she pointed towards it in a sluggish tone.
‘I am living in Malgudi for the past thirty years. There is no house around except that of the station master. Am I a fool to believe in your words?’ he mouthed, yelling at her.
The lady a stranger Venkatesh was not a man to listen to any eerie person. He raced away and stood under the banyan tree. The rain had become torrential. The stormy winds swayed the bulb over him violently. It eventually exploded plunging the area in complete darkness. His clothes completely soaked, umbrella providing a weak resistance he remained firm braving the nature’s fury.
‘I should have listened to her.’ A thought crossed his mind.
Eyes squeezed, he looked around. Striving to see or hear anything but the relentless rain. A dim light glimmered at a distance, behind him. Trusting it to be the light coming from a reliable source he made up his mind to approach him.
The torch in one hand, he struggled to close down his umbrella. Groped for his suitcase, picked it up, turned around and ran frantically in the direction of the light.
‘Open the door! Is someone there? Please open the door!!’ scared, panting heavily, he knocked.
‘Come inside quickly!’
The door opened. He barged inside, turning off the torch light. His clothes dripping wet, his eyes closed, he trembled unrestrainedly.
‘I had told you, sahab, not to go.’
Venkatesh opened his eyes. He had a shocked expression on his face. It was the same young lady standing in-front of him.
‘I need to go... Open the door. Let me out!’ he panicked rushing towards it.
‘Where do you want to go? Can’t you see it’s raining outside. Just sit inside, quietly!!’ the lady scolded, screaming at him. She blocked the door with her hands and body; desperate to keep him inside.
‘No, I have to go. I will miss the train otherwise. Please free me...’ Venkatesh cried out closing his eyes.
‘What do you think? I am some ghost! Wait, I will prove it...’
The lady walked away. Venkatesh stood there helplessly.
‘Open your eyes and check for yourself...Open them!!’
He fluttered his eyelids up. Recognising dark-red blood staining the mud floor he backtracked immediately. The lady had cut her right index finger with a sharp object.
‘Now do you believe in me? What else should I do?’ she said wincing in pain. She grabbed the loose end of her saree, tore a long piece out of it and wrapped her oozing finger.
‘Sit in that corner.’ she ordered. Head hung low he put his suitcase down and tamely followed her orders.
‘Are you the only living person in Malgudi?’ she shouted in anguish.
Venkatesh had crouched himself at a corner. His body shivered continuously. He remained silent staring at the oil lamp burning in the middle of the room.
‘You know who you are? You are a terrified rat!’ she carried on in her rough tone, mocking his posture. Eyeing him menacingly she trudged ahead and sat in the opposite corner.
‘Humpf! Shameless beggar! Look at her clothes.’ he grumbled, looking down.
‘Why are you not looking at me? Look up.’ she ordered in a grave tone.
‘No.’ Venkatesh spoke out, breaking his silence.
‘Why? Just because my clothes are improper...just because my body is visible...?’
‘Stop it!’ he shouted staring at her.
‘Where do you live?’
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ he shot back, glancing at her meekly.
‘Why?’
Venkatesh remained silent.
‘Because, I am a beggar? That’s why?’ she glared at him, continuously. ‘Aren’t beggars human beings?’
‘What is your name?’ Venkatesh inquired. He could not help but stare at her resplendent face. Her voice full of life, he found it innocuously soothing.
‘What do you do?’ she persisted, disregarding him.
‘I am a teacher in Albert Mission school.’ he stated proudly.
‘You are a teacher!!’ she exclaimed. ‘What do you teach your children?’
‘Physics, Do you even know what Physics is? Humpf!’
‘I don’t know it but I know that I am brave.’ she gave him a terse reply. ‘I am not afraid, like you. What is the use of Juji if you cannot live happily?’
She kept on pelting awkward questions at him. Accustomed to reprimand children in school, he felt it a bit unusual on being scolded by a stranger. ‘Even my wife does not speak to me like this!’ he complained within.
‘Do you lie to your wife?’
‘Who do…?’
He kept quiet, giving the lady a cold stare.
‘Answer me!’
‘Because you were afraid that she will laugh at you and curse you? Isn’t it?’
He nodded, looking down at the floor. ‘You are a coward.’
Venkatesh felt restless from inside. The interrogation straightforward he found himself at a loss of words.
‘You are not a good teacher then!’ the lady stated.
An uneasy silence followed.
‘Do you want to eat something?’ she spoke out, lowering her voice for the first time.
‘What is the time? The train can come any moment now. I better leave.’ he panicked again.
‘No train will come. Can’t you see how bad the weather is outside?’ she rebuked him vociferously.
‘But I have to go, it’s urgent.’ Venkatesh retorted reasoning.
‘Go, I will not stop you this time.’ she said, ushering him out in a manner.
He mulled over it listening to the long thunderous noises coming from outside. His breath, bated. The rain lashing outside, lightning sparks occasionally breaking through the thatched roof he gave up the idea of venturing out in the dark.
‘Do you want some puffed rice?’ the young lady offered him the second time.
‘No! My wife has given me food. I will eat that.’ he declined her offer.
‘Yeah! Yeah! I forgot I am a beggar.’ she ridiculed, compounding his agony.
‘Where is it?’ Venkatesh cried out in a stifled tone.
‘What? What are you looking for?’
‘My Tiffin! I cannot find it.’
He searched his suitcase thoroughly but could not find his dinner.
‘Close your suitcase and take this.’ the lady offered her puffed rice in a dirty looking bowl.
‘I am not hungry.’ Venkatesh uttered locking his suitcase.
She kept the bowl near him. Lied down and turned her back at him at her corner.
‘You will not eat?’ he asked her sheepishly. Nowhere to go, stranded, starving, his stomach emitting weird noises he had no choice but to listen to her.
‘I am not hungry.’ she promptly replied.
He emptied the bowl in a hurry and sat staring at the lamp. Predetermined to go back home the moment the rain would stop.
‘Where am I?’
The sun beating down, dazed, Venkatesh strained his eyes open. He noted the time in his watch and sprang up in a flash. It was ten o’ clock in the morning. The night long and tiring he had dozed off inadvertently.
‘Lamp? Lamp!’ he recollected the events of the previous night. ‘Where is she?’ he asked himself looking around for the young lady. Hair strewn; clothes soiled he clutched his suitcase and ran out searching for her.
‘Is this my house...? It is my house!’ baffled he turned around and paced up and down; He had spent the night sleeping on the front porch of his own house. ‘How did I get here…? Who was she…? Why didn’t my wife open the door…?’ his mind was filled with endless uncertainties.
‘Sumitra! Sumitra!!?’
Perplexed he dashed towards the door and called her out.
‘Coming!’ a voice shouted back.
‘It is my wife!! But how is it possible?’
The door flung open. Venkatesh hustled in. It appeared as if he had set out to explore his own house. ‘Huh!! You came back so soon? What happened to you? Your clothes... your hair...is everything fine.’ Sumitra asked running towards him, clutching his hand from back. ‘Why are you quiet? Say something!! Speak up!’
He turned towards her and spoke out in a soft tone, ‘Shall I bring the remaining vegetables...?’
