The atonement

Sukhlal stared at the cracked ceiling, as he lay motionless in his bed. The sunlight percolated and created a linear luminescent spot on his mattress. It was a hot sunny day, but the inside of his house, were comfortable. The thatched roof provided a soothing aplomb within the structure. The floor was washed daily before morning prayer, as was done in most households of the village. The floral incense burnt in the corner, maintained a calming serenity in the small house.

Jayanti, his wife maintained the house with utmost dedication. She ensured, most comfort for all, in their limited means. She had been an ideal wife, mother and a home maker.

‘You are staying home again, today?’ she asked, in a subdued nag.

Sukhlal turned his gaze towards her, and replied, ‘I am feeling tired.’

‘The fence of the field is broken. It needs to be repaired. The neighborhood cattle will trample all our crops. We cannot afford that. You realize it?’ she said calmly.

He nodded and turned his back against her.

That annoyed her, but she quietly left the room.

They had been always poor, but been unhappy for the past six years, when their relationship had become strained. Sukhlal, had kicked his only son out of their house and village, as he had chosen to marry a girl from a different caste.

Jayanti, after losing her only son, had moved out of their room to a smaller room in the house. She took care of the house like she had always done, but could not bring herself to feel affection towards Sukhlal anymore. To her, he was the man, who made her son homeless, because of the pressure from neighbors. If he had shown support, no one would have dared to question Nandu or his family. She was angry, why did her husband succumb to the opinion of the village? Why were the happiness of his wife and son, less important than the whims of the society, she thought?

Although, illiterate, she knew she would have welcomed her daughter in law, into her home with open arms, even if she belonged to a different community. She made her son happy, wasn’t that enough? She often thought that, but always kept it to herself. She fulfilled all her duties as a wife and the homemaker, but couldn’t overcome the feelings of resentment she had developed for her husband.

Ever since Nandu left, Sukhlal had rapidly aged. He got tired and often skipped work. The guilt of not standing up for his family had been eating him up. The ego and frustration had been a hindrance, in his acknowledgment of the issue. He, along with his wife and their relationship had been suffering, as a result of it.

Jayanti laid on her cot, and had just shut her eyes to take a nap, there was a soft knock on the door.

Sukhlal heard the knock too, and remained motionless. Jayanti slowly got up from her bed and opened the door. A village child stood there with a grim expression.

‘Chachi (aunt), Pradhan ji (the village head) passed away. The funeral will be at the river bank at noon. I have been told to inform everyone.’ The child said. His face was red from running around in the sun. He panted through his words.

‘oh! That is so terrible. This village is cursed.’ She exclaimed. ‘Babu have some water.’ She told the child, as he looked exhausted.

‘No Chachi, I have four more houses, then I will go home and eat.’ He ran away.

She shut the door behind him and sat down in horror. The village had not had any good news since so long, only tragedy and sadness prevailed. Wonder where the happiness went away. She thought about Nandu.

‘Who was it?’ Sukhlal asked from the inside room.

‘Pradhan ji passed away.’ she replied.

Sukhlal stood up straight, listening to that. ‘What?’ He exclaimed. He began to cry silently.

Later at noon, the two attended the funeral and paid their tributes to the departed. Under the scorching son, the pyre made of wooden logs, stood like a monument. The body draped in pure white clothes was placed on it. The family members of the deceased gathered wearing crisp white dhotis (the long loin cloth) and a janeu (the sacred thread) across their chest. They wore a sandalwood mark on forehead and had shaved their heads in reverence to the departed soul. The Vedic (pertaining to Hindu religious scriptures) chants were conducted by the village priest.

They silently watched, as Pradhan’s son circled the pyre dripping holy water all around it. He lit the pyre after conducting the rites and rituals. Sukhlal and Jayanti wept silently throughout the ceremony.

Later in the evening, as she served dinner, Sukhlal told her to sit in his room. They ate together after six years. Half way through their meal, Sukhlal said silently, ‘I am going to the city tomorrow morning.’

‘City? For what?’ she asked, hopefully.

‘I have to correct my mistakes.’ He replied silently.

She looked at him speechlessly.

‘I miss my son. I miss the happiness of this house and I miss you.’ he continued.

Her eyes watered and tears rolled out. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘I was wrong. I promised to take care of you and keep you happy always, and I betrayed that promise.’ He said, with tears in his eyes.

‘The day our son was born, I thought, I will protect him from the evils of the entire world. You raised a good son. I was blinded by the peer pressure. Please forgive me.’ He said sadly.

‘He works for someone in construction, a village brother told me. He lives in a small shack in the city. It isn’t worth living. Why should he suffer like that, when he has his own home and a farm here. He is a hard-working man; he should be working at his own home and in his own farm.’ He said.

‘Jayanti, your son has three children, I never told you before. His wife takes good care of them. Those kids and that gentle-women deserve to live here with dignity. Kids need their grand-parents. We need the life of this house back. This house has become haunted, it should be full of laughter of the little ones.’

Jayanti smiled broadly at the news, and remained speechless.

‘I don’t want to die alone. Who will light my funeral pyre, if not my son? I will be damned in hell, if I don’t correct my mistakes. I need to make amends and own up to everything. I hope it is not too late.’ He sobbed.

Jayanti, couldn’t say anything. She was overwhelmed with emotions. She cried looking at him. She hadn‘t thought, such a day would come in her life. Her family would be happy and complete again. A myriad of thoughts flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t utter a word. She kept crying.

She handed a glass of water to him. He was overwhelmed again, thinking how caring she had been even through all these years. She had always kept everyone’s comfort above her own. May be, there was a special punishment in the hell, for bringing tears to such a gentle soul, he thought.

He took the glass and made her to drink water from it. She took a sip and smiled through the tears. He smiled looking at her. 

After drinking water, she replied, ‘Can I come with you, to the city? I haven’t seen him in years, I don’t want to miss another day.’

He nodded with a smile and eyes full of tears.