CHANGING TIMES

Ramarao looked at Janaki. "There is a good match my uncle was suggesting for Meenakshi. They along with the boy will come to see her tomorrow evening. Make suitable arrangements." Having conveyed that much, he went out.

Janaki just nodded. She did not mind his ordering that way. She is quite used to that and accepted his behaviour as normal. She did not even bother about the details of the match. She has that much confidence in his sense of responsibility.

She knew her husband is keen to get their only daughter married as soon as possible. The fact that they are coming to see the girl means they must have been satisfied with all other factors. If they are impressed enough with their house and the girl, of which she is almost sure, soon there will be a marriage in the home. She wholeheartedly wished they would agree.

She looked at Meenakshi fondly.

The fourteen year old Meenakshi is playing with her dolls blissfully unaware of their plans. Janaki herself entered this house at an even younger age. Now, barely crossing thirty, she is already eager to get her daughter married. Not uncommon some seventy years back.

Still, she is worried as to what kind of future is waiting for her little girl. Her real journey through life will begin only now. She has to adjust and adapt to the new surroundings and people. Life itself will teach her the necessary skills and expertise. Her mother's heart pined for her little daughter. She hoped that she will be strong enough to withstand the ups and downs of life and prove herself to be an ideal and dutiful wife and mother.

She remembered her past. Ramarao did not even come to see her then. Only his parents and elders in the family came and more than the girl, they were keen to see their house and lifestyle before finalising.  And nobody thought it strange. Her parents also did not bother to have a look at the boy! But now, the boy is also coming with the parents. 'How times are changing!' She wondered.

Meenakshi looked at the photo. The boy is good looking. ''Will make good pair opposite our Sujatha." she said.

Bhaskar seemed satisfied. "I too feel so. The boy, Krishna is an engineer with a good job in Bombay. The family are well respected and pleasant. If they like our Sujatha, we will be lucky. You tell her the matter and prepare. They will come tomorrow."

Meenakshi nodded. Sujatha  is their elder daughter.

"What is the hurry, mother? Let me complete my degree at least." She protested.

"Look, you are already in the final year. By the time everything works out, your exams may be over. Even otherwise also, you can complete your degree without any problem. This is a very good match, we feel. Let them come. If you do not like them, I promise you, we will not force you." And then she added, "You remember you have two younger sisters and they are also approaching marriageable age fast. Their future also depends on yours." She tried to convince her.

Long back, when she herself faced such situation, she had no idea that they came to see her and her opinion was unsolicited. In fact, after being told that her marriage was fixed with the boy who came on that day, she wondered who that boy was and tried to recollect his face. But she did not even know that the crowd of people that came on the day consisted of a groom also as nobody bothered to tell her. After almost a decade of married life, Bhaskar confessed that he was also equally in the dark on that day about the identity of the would be bride and the plans of elders. But now, they are discussing with Sujatha about the proposal and seeking her consent. 'How times have changed!' She sighed.

Sujatha is tense. Some days back, her daughter, Indu told her about Vishal, her classmate of long who proposed and whom she too wishes to marry. After getting their consent, she brought him home one day. He is good looking, appeared to be nice and pleasant, secured a good job recently and above all from a decent family from their own community. Indu swears he is a good and understanding person. So Krishna formally invited his parents to their home. They are expected in the evening.

Indu was also nervous. "Will they agree, mother?" She asked in an anxious tone. Sujatha looked at her reassuringly. "Of course, Indu, why not, when Vishal is liking you?"

But she can well understand her fears. In fact she was also a little appprehensive about their reaction. Though the youngsters are keen to marry, they are equally keen to get the approval of the families too. She, as a mother, wished it that way. She prayed that Vishal's parents would like Indu and agree wholeheartedly like Krishna and herself. Because she already understood that they are not very happy with the idea of their only son selecting his bride by himself.

She recollected her own experience. True, she agreed for her parents' proposal reluctantly. But when she looked at Krishna for the first time on that day, she immediately liked him. And his people too. So when her opinion was sought by her mother, she expressed her willingness though rather shyly. They had to wait anxiously for a few days to hear from them. 'Will he like me and agree?' She worried and prayed for his affirmation. Somehow she was given to understand that his approval is vital and matters the most.  His parents are favourable towards their match, from among all those they recieved and they liked her photo too. As far as they are concerned, other details like family background,  reputation, values are most important. Physical appearances are not their priority. So having a look at the girl is a mere formality, more for the sake of the groom.  And now, though Indu is sure about the boy, still she is worried about his parents. 'Times have changed a lot!' She surmised.

Indu stared at Amrutha, who insists on being called Mittu and Vishal raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What are you saying, Mittu? Are you serious? Do you really want to marry this Dinesh?" Indu asked.

"Danny!" Mittu glared at her.

"Ok, Danny. Are you not hasty? Be sensible and think calmly before taking such a crucial decision. Who is he? What do you know about him? You yourself say you know him for two months only since he joined your company."

Mittu rolled her eyes. "Oh, Mom, you and your stone age talk! Don't probe about Danny's antecedents, ancestry, pedigree etc. He is special. We understand and love each other. Be happy that I did not go and marry him without telling you." Mittu said haughtily. Then she added. "Anyway, it is not a big thing. If ever he creates a problem, it is not going to be the end of the world, just the end of the marriage."

Vishal intervened. "Ok, you call him home once. Let us meet him first, then we will see."

Mittu shrugged. "Ok, if you want, I will bring him. But, remember one thing. My decision is final whatever you say." She said in a warning tone.

Vishal's jaw tightened.  Indu was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Then she recovered enough to ask her rather meekly, "What about his parents? Do they agree?"

Mittu shrugged her shoulders again. "Whether they agree or not, that is Danny's headache, not my problem. Danny will handle them.  Why should I bother?" She went away in a huff.

Indu collapsed in the sofa feeling exhausted. What is happening?  Ever since Mittu joined her post graduation, there is a remarkable change in her. She became more self centered, defiant and haughty. The mother in Indu is unable to digest this trend. She is happy that her daughter is well educated and got a plum job. And now her only wish is that she should settle down well with a decent man and have a blissful married life. Just like she herself had.

She knows the meaning of love as she and Vishal experienced it. They loved each other and decided to unite in wedlock. But only with the wholehearted consent of both their parents and families, Vishal made it clear. So the day his parents came to see her was crucial for them. In fact they came with a firm intention to reject her and they did the same. Only after Vishal was adamant and refused to consider any other marriage proposal, did they relent. She suffered initial hostility from them and slowly and patiently tried and managed to impress and win their approval.

'And how I tried!' Indu sighed. But now, what is going on in her daughter's life? 'Changing times!' She shook her head gravely in partial resignation. 'And they change the people and their attitudes also!

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN

                                 

                                                 

We had a very interesting chat session yesterday. ‘We’ means the ladies of our colony, which includes all sorts, like the wives of bank officers, business people, government officials and what not. You see, we cultivated this very healthy habit of gathering at some place every now and then in order to exchange some juicy tidbits of news about the people in the vicinity. But don’t jump to the conclusion that we are just a bunch of gossip mongers. We are not, by all means. We do discuss the national and international scenario also. This is where we learn about the country’s foreign policy, financial scene, cricket debacles, latest films and teleserials etc, etc. Of course, we also know about illnesses, marital quarrels, fixing of marriages, impending childbirths- in short almost everything under the sun about our colony members. I, like everybody else, look forward to these sessions very eagerly.

So, we met yesterday at the house of Sunita. Our group is sort of an assorted one. It takes all the types to make this world, isn’t it? For example, Vidya is a self professed avid newspaper reader. More than reading the daily paper, she takes elaborate pains to announce the fact to all and sundry – in other words, to all of us.

She sighed and said something about reading in the paper that one of the numerous miracle- making godmen of the country landed in the jail as a State Guest.

Deepa immediately closed her eyes and folded her hands discreetly. Her lips were moving in a silent prayer. This lady is an ardent devotee of  almost all the gods and godmen. I came to know about her devout nature during our very first meeting itself.

She made a courtesy call on me when I was new to that colony. Pleased with her friendly gesture, I offered her some home made snacks. She closed her eyes and folded her hands a little discreetly and her lips moved in what was obviously a silent prayer. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and ventured to eat. I took it as a serious  affront to my culinary skills. Nevertheless, that being our first meeting, I refrained from offending her by making any adverse comment. I offered her a hot cup of tea and then also she followed the same ritual. But when the same routine preceded her accepting supari, I felt intrigued and could not control my irritation as well as curiosity. I asked her what was the matter. Then she explained that it is her habit to thank god before putting anything into her mouth. Such is her devoutness!

So, naturally she was very disturbed with that piece of bad news and felt sorry for the godman. But not so Asha who is an atheist to the core. She firmly follows the dictum that “ Seeing is Believing” to the last letter. For us, simple folks, the guiding principle in life is, “Hearing is Believing.” As a result, she does not believe in more than half of the things which we do believe. Naturally, she is an arch rival of  Deepa. We were witness to their heated debates regarding the existence of god many times before.

She cleared her throat and declared in a definite no-nonsense tone, “I don’t believe in godmen and their miracles.” The rest of us are not so eloquent or vocal about our views. In almost every matter, we are more or less ‘middle-of-the-pathers’ like a majority of Indians. For example, we are all believers but not that staunch worshippers. I too follow the same tradition. About miracles- well, I never gave the topic any serious thought till then.

But somehow I appreciate both the ladies for their ideological obstinacy. They have clear views and do not mince words when it comes to defend their beliefs.

Deepa glared at Asha. “How can you dismiss so summarily? Miracles do happen. Didn’t you hear about the milk – consuming idols?” she thundered.

“Of course I ‘heard’ about that. But I never saw with my own eyes any miracle happening. Did you?” she inquired sarcastically.

By that time all of us warmed to the subject. It is clear that a majority of the ladies have faith in miracles. So there followed an unending stream of tales of miraculous happenings.

But the adamant Asha was unimpressed. “Don’t talk rubbish. If you have seen any miracle with your own eyes, then only tell me. I will get convinced only then.” She almost challenged all of us.

Normally I don’t argue much. Like Shakespeare’s Polonius says, I “give every man (or woman) mine ears but few my voice; and my thoughts, no voice” I don’t like to offend people by contradicting them. The main advantage of this policy is that I displease none and no one is my enemy. But the flip side is that I please none and no one is my friend either.

I ventured to ask her “What, in your opinion is a miracle?”

She pondered for a while. “A miracle is an unusual happening which cannot be explained by science or logic- which we never expect to happen and is very different from normal.”

That rang a bell in my mind. Recently I felt much on similar lines about some incident. But dimwitted that I was, I could not recollect quickly.

“At this moment, convincing her with an example will be more than a miracle.” Someone whispered.

Immediately it clicked. Same words I told my husband the previous day. That day the gas-boy arrived with the new cylinder. Normally he rings the bell incessantly till I open the door. But that day he just rang once and waited. Not only that, when I gave him the big note for want of change, he tendered the exact change to the last paisa and left – to my utter disbelief. Usually he has this habit of rounding off the bill to the nearest ten rupees. Over and above that, quite unabashedly, he demands some ‘baksheesh’ for doing the work for which he gets paid. That day he did none. It was in this context that I remarked to my husband, “His behaviour today is more than a miracle.”

Confident of convincing her, I narrated the incident. Taking a cue from me, others followed with their own experiences.

 “Since one week, my servant maid did not take leave. As she is not in the habit of working for even five days continuously, I was sure that she will bunk today. But surprisingly she came on the stroke of ten today and without frowning at the heap of vessels in the kitchen sink or the wash load in the bathroom, she finished everything silently. Imagine- not even a single grunt or grumble could be heard from her! Very unlike her indeed! Not only that, she even bestowed a smile upon me while leaving!” “Two days back when I went to Miyapur, the auto fellow charged exactly as per the meter- no full return or half return. Really surprising, Isn’t it?”

Asha vetoed everyone. “Quite unusual, I agree. These type of incidents are very rare and surprise us, no doubt. But I don’t consider them as miracles. At the most they can be termed as eighth wonders. You see, these people are capable of good behaviour but don’t bother. Just because they choose to be good for a change on some rare occasions, we cannot call it a miracle. It is nothing beyond their capacity.”

“When I was sorting junk yesterday, I found a five hundred  rupee note in a discarded handbag. Quite miraculous, isn’t it?”

This time, not Asha but Deepa herself pooh-poohed the lady. “Who would call finding money in the least expected places, a miracle?”

Now it was the turn of  Vidya. In a very confident tone, she declared “I am pretty sure this really qualifies to be a miracle.” She paused for effect. “Yesterday, I saw Mr. Easwar coming home from office before sunset. Not only that, he came with empty hands without the ever present bundle of files.” She sounded triumphant.

Mr. Easwar is her neighbour. Easwari, his wife is a very reserved lady and is never a part of our group. But that never stopped us from being observant of their movements. He is the only big executive from our office other than my husband, residing in the same colony. All are aware of the late- coming and files- carrying habits of both of them and wonder about this peculiar practice of the senior executives of our office.

So they were all surprised to hear that piece of news. Not just surprised- they were in fact shocked because such a possibility is never thought of. Asha was also equally dumbfound. As Easwari was not there, she looked at me for confirmation. I nodded my head. And of course, quite a few others also recollected noticing that special event the previous day.

So in a resigned tone accepting defeat, she said, “Well, yes….er….so….if really Mr. Easwar came home by sunset, if not before, without a single file, that surely is a miracle. So, miracles do happen, I agree.”

For no logical reason, we all felt happy and satisfied for being able to convince her at last. Still some were curious about the reasons. “How did it happen actually? Will it occur again? Does it mean that we can look forward to the same miracle in your home also?”

I sighed and shook my head gravely. “No, dear. I don’t wish it in my house. And there is no chance of it repeating there either.”

They were all puzzled. “How can you be so sure about it?”

I replied “Because yesterday was the last day of his service. He was fired.”

REAL FESTIVAL

                    

Subhadra felt very happy. She was confined to bed since almost ten months. And was feeling down and dejected and depressed. But today, on this festival day, Vasantha, her daughter in law made her wear a new sari and pulling an easy chair to the kitchen, sat her in it. She was preparing the festival lunch with a couple of delicacies, taking her advice and chatting with her.  Murali was surprised to see his mother in the kitchen after a long time. He sat at her feet with moist eyes. Bablu, her grandson was elated at the unusual sight. He too joined the others and together they presented a perfect family picture.

Vasantha raised her voice and shrieked, "That is why I always say she should get down from the bed. But why does she, she is a queen while I am here to cater to all her needs singlehandedly..."

Subhadra opened her eyes with a start. ‘So, was it all a dream? An unfulfilled dream?’ She looked at her old shabby sari and sighed.

Vasantha was shouting, “Look, we are all going to my brother's house for lunch.  Some items are in the fridge. It should be sufficient for you. Will you be kind enough to warm them for lunch”

Subhadra mumbled, "You know, Vasantha, I cannot even walk upto the kitchen. How can I..."

"I know, you will say the same thing. So I have to do everything for you before going. You never allow me any rest or respite.  What a bother!"

Murali heard everything and said in a firm tone,  "Today is festival, Vasantha. As it is, we are going out leaving mother alone. Why leftovers for her? At least cook something fresh and keep by her bed."

Vasantha frowned and went away grumbling.

After a while, Murali came to her with a hot pack. He placed that on the bedside table within her reach along with water and plate. He sat by her and holding her hands said, "We have to go, mother. If there is any need, call me. We will be back soon."

She nodded with a forced smile. She knew they will come home only late in the evening. She remembered her husband who left them all long back when Murali was still in high school. Since then she struggled with her meagre income as a school teacher to bring him up and educate him. After getting a good job, he married Vasantha. Until she was bedridden ten months back, she alone managed both the household as well as her own job. But now with her sickness, she had to stop working and became a burden to Vasantha. She closed her eyes. Without realising she dozed off.

Suddenly she woke up. She felt somebody was near her door. "Who is that?" she called.

A cute face appeared peeping at the door. "Are you sleeping, grandma?"

She smiled at Bablu. "Why, Bablu, are you people back already?"

He came in and sat by her. "I did not go, grandma. I dont like it there. Nobody there to talk or play with. So boring. I sat to study but I feel scared in my room. Shall I stay here with you in your room? I will bring my homework and do it."

She could imagine the anger of Vasantha and the scene she must have created when Bablu wanted to stay back. Murali must have persuaded her to agree. All that must have happened while she fell asleep.

Subhadra helped Bablu with his work and together they completed the task.

"Bablu, are you not hungry? Come, we will have food."

"Father kept my lunchbox on the dining table, grandma. Wait, I will bring that here and we shall eat together."

The lunch was simple without any specials. Still she felt highly contented eating together with the grandson. Bablu looked at her and whispered  in a low tone, "Shall I tell you a secret?"

She nodded.

"It is Father who told me to stay back with you. We entered a deal. When he goes out to give company to my mother, I should take care of his mother here. Good deal, no? I too liked the idea. So I am here with you!"

She smiled and kissed him. 'I can never forget this day..ever. The happiest day and the grandest.

GREEN AND BLUE

                        

I just came home after a hectic day at office. Meena greeted me with a hot cup of coffee in her hand and a sweet smile on her radiant face. I relaxed in the sofa and started sipping the aromatic beverage.

Suddenly there was a thundering knock on the door. No, not just 'a knock.' It was continuous pounding. I was startled. Meena just smiled. "Must be your friend, Govind",  she said while going to open the door. The moment she opened the door, in barged my good friend, Govind, like a fierce hurricane. He plonked himself in the sofa and held his head in his hands. I just kept staring at him. I know about his frequent outbursts since our school days. I need not make any enquiries. Slowly he himself will come out with everything.

After a while he lifted his head and glared at me. "Here I am so disturbed and there you are coolly sipping your whatever it is. Are you not going to ask me at least what is the matter? Quite a friend you are!"

I kept quiet. Meena brought coffee for him and sat beside me.

He shuffled impatiently. "OK, I myself will tell you. No use, Kishore, I am going to divorce Durga." He declared and started drinking the coffee.

We were not expecting that! He married her only 7-8 months back after moving heaven and earth. And we know how much he loves her. Suddenly what happened to force him towards that drastic decision?

"Why? What happened?" Meena asked.

Govind did not speak for a while. Then he sighed deeply.

"Do you remember, Kishore, the day we went to 'see' Durga?"

"Of course, I remember very vividly, why not! You forced us to accompany you saying that we are seniors, you need our advice etc, etc! Just because we tied the knot one year before!"

That day was fixed by his father who lives in Vizag, their hometown. They were shown a girl in some marriage function discreetly and they liked her. So now Govind has to see and approve her. The girl and her parents live here in Hyderabad. He forced me and Meena also to come with him.

We were received cordially and soon the girl was called. Meena, to justify her presence started chatting with the girl and her mother and other ladies. Govind whispered in my ear, "Without being obvious, look at the girl standing behind them. The girl in green and blue sari."

I casually looked at a young girl behind the  bride and nodded.

"I like her, tell them I want to marry her."

I stared at him bewildered. How can I tell them so? "Please!" He pleaded.

I leaned towards Meena and told her briefly to know her details first. She hesitated a little. Then she coughed and stood up. "Can I have some water?" She asked the girl. The girl nodded and went inside. Meena followed her enquiring in a low tone, "Show me the toilet also." She spent some time with her inside and then joined us.

After a while we started home, promising the hosts that we will keep in touch. Govind, understanding my silent order, kept quiet in the auto. But the moment we reached our home, he rained continuous questions, anxious to know the details from Meena who did a fine job.

The girl is the bride's cousin from Vizag on a brief visit here. "Vizag! Our Vizag!" Govind cried.

She is studying there. And most importantly, she is unmarried.

But we had to struggle a lot to convince his parents. "What will they think? They will feel offended if we say we want the other girl and not the one originally proposed. They will spit on my face! I cannot do that!" His father was adamant.

"How can we, the groom's side, approach total strangers seeking their daughter's hand? It is below our dignity. They will take advantage and look us down!" His mother added enraged.

But Govind persisted, pleaded, cajoled, threatened and sobbed. And finally they relented.

The girl's family was also suspicious about this unusual and sudden proposal and even doubted his credentials.

Ultimately after a lot of hard work he could succeed with great help and support from both of us and tie the knot with Durga with the approval of both the families. And they were living happily thereafter. At least till today we thought so. Before this sudden bolt from blue!

"But why? Why do you want to leave her? After going through all the trouble just a few months back?"

He sighed. Then grunted. And then gnashed his teeth. Finally beat his forehead. "How can I tell you? Nobody can understand my plight!" He paused and then continued.  "Do you remember, we did not know her name in the beginning?"

"Why not! You were annoyed with me for not asking her name! Even after I did so much for you by gathering all her details and even her father's address without arousing any suspicion in her. Just because I did not bother about  her name!" Meena pouted.

"Isn't it? So we used to refer her as 'the girl in green and blue', didn't we?"

"Of course. Only at the time of printing the invites we asked for her name. Till then she was 'the girl in green and blue' "

"And Meena, was it not you who told Durga about that nickname?"

Meena looked puzzled. "Of course, why not? Is it supposed to be kept as a secret?"

Govind tore his hair. "If only you kept it so!"

We looked at him blankly. I recovered first and raising my voice, said bluntly. "Arre, idiot! Tell the matter quickly without throwing riddles. What is the matter? Say briefly. Or go to hell."

He sighed. "You know very well how I hated that sari with that horrible colour combination that day! In fact that was the only thing I detested about her."

We agreed. In fact he said something to the effect that no sensible person on earth prefers the combination of parrot green with ink blue like that girl. Meena consoled him saying that after marriage, any girl will understand the likes and dislikes of the husband. And after that she may not go for any sari with those colours, she assured him.

"You assured me, but she didn't behave so!" He lamented. "Even after I told her several times, she is not willing to realise. She preserved that sari as a precious memento and off and on wears it as a special treat for me. Did you hear, as a 'Special' for me! In all these seven months or so, do you know what she bought? A blue sari with green border for her birthday, a green sari with blue checks for Dasera, a blue sari with green dots for Deepavali,  one with blue and green stripes, green with blue flowers and blue with green print....oh, the list is endless! When I tell her bluntly not to go for those colours she is in tears, saying I am changed and no longer loving her, blah blah blah! And finally today she bought a green kanjeevaram sari with blue border and thread work...costing nearly ten thousand bucks! What shall I do? No respite for me from this green and blue!"

He held his head in his hands and almost on the verge of tears.

"It is a very rare colour combination! Where on earth is she able to find so many saris with those particular shades?" Meena wondered aloud. Then looking at his face, she stopped and clucked her tongue in sympathy.

He looked at her pleadingly. "Meena, do something. Drive some sense into that hard nut. Please, you alone can do that. Otherwise I will renounce everything and become a sanyasi. No alternative for me."

The next day Meena met her and explained his predicament to her. "She is very understanding and apologetic. She now repents her folly. She promised me, she will never wear any sari with those colours. Then she wondered what to do with all those. I told her to give them away to someone or buy some steel or just throw them away, any thing. Now Govind can relax and need not worry." She sighed. "I wonder what she will do with all those new saris! Very expensive ones too! Especially that Kanjevaram! Terrible!"

We both felt relieved that his woes are gone forever.

But it was not so. After two days again he came, this time like a tsunami. "No use, friends, I am leaving her and you all too. I am going away" He declared.

We were dumbstruck. "Why, what happened? She promised  me she will never go against your wish! Didn't she keep her word?  Stupid girl!" Meena enquired in an angry tone.

Suddenly we heard Durga's sobs. She came in running. "See, see, Meena! How he has changed! I told you! He no longer likes me, I know. These are all just excuses to get rid of me. I have no option but to end my life." She wailed.

"No, Durga, don't say that. Sit here and tell us calmly what happened. We will find out a good solution. Control yourself. Don't cry, stop that first." Meena tried to pacify her.

Govind was gnashing his teeth still.

Durga calmed down a little.

"Now, tell me, did you again wear any green and blue sari or did you buy any?"

Durga shook her head. "How can I, Meena, after giving you my word?"

"Then didn't you throw them away?"

"How can I, they are all so new. I didn't feel like giving them all to the maid even!"

"Then, did you exchange them for any steel utensils? What did you get for all of those almost new saris?" Meena enquired curiously.

Durga shook her head. "I got a better idea. Today I sat down the whole day and tearing them all, I stitched curtains for all the windows and doors of the house. For the drawing room, bed room..."

"....dining room, kitchen...wherever I turn, those blue and green curtains are piercing my eyes. She did not leave the the toilets even..." Govind thundered.

We both looked at each other and could not help bursting out laughing. Poor Govind!