Tell A Thousand Lies Page 11

  “Ammamma! No talk about dying. You are healthy. We need you around for many, many years.” Finally I found the courage to ask what I had been avoiding. “What about those devotees?”

  “Don’t think badly of them, Child. They are honest people who sincerely believed you had divine powers.”

  “What about...”

  “Kondal Rao? Oh, he tells the devotees you followed in the footsteps of your father and went off to the Himalayas to meditate.”

  “And they believe it?”

  “He orchestrated another miracle, Child.” Ammamma sighed. “He put chickpeas under the soil near a tree, and put a faceless idol on it. Because the idol was being prepared for prayers each morning, all that water caused the seeds to germinate and raise the idol slightly. He claimed that the Goddess had risen. He then installed that idol in the Durga temple. Now his only problem is exposure. If you stay away, both he and you should be safe.”

  Chapter 21

  Srikar’s Family

  “Something smells good.” Srikar hooked his cloth shoulder bag on the peg by the door. He stepped out of his slippers, and sniffed. “Vankay?”

  I smiled. He could sniff out the curry from a thousand different delicacies.

  He smiled back, but it was the sort of smile one gave under duress.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Grandfather called. At work.”

  “He found your workplace!”

  “No, no. I meant, he had Headmaster garu call me.”

  My heart hitched. “Did he ask about me?”

  “He did.”

  “And he wants me back.” That familiar dread.

  “No, no. I’m sorry for scaring you. That isn’t what he wants, according to Headmaster garu.”

  “What, then?”

  “He wants us to come home.”

  “He found out you married me!”

  “That was bound to happen, Pulla. He says my grandmother wants to meet you.”

  “That can’t be bad. You’ve been wanting to take me to your grandmother.”

  “He’s up to something.”

  “If he is involving your grandmother, it can only be a good thing, right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Right?”

  “Right.” But he didn’t sound convinced.

  ><

  “I am glad you accepted my peace offering,” Kondal Rao said, greeting Srikar and me at his doorstep. He reached up and touched the top of my head in blessing.

  I looked at his smile, unable to reconcile Kondal Rao, the grandfather, with Kondal Rao, the manipulative politician.

  “Come in, Children.”

  “You men,” an elderly voice scolded, smile in her voice. “Always in a hurry. No patience for tradition. My new daughter-in-law will walk directly into the house, or what?”

  Srikar grabbed his grandmother in a bear hug.

  “You crazy boy,” she said, laughing, “let go of me.”

  The women standing behind her giggled.

  From the side, Ammamma watched teary-eyed. I went to her and hugged hard. Then Srikar and I bent to touch her feet for blessings.

  Srikar’s grandmother took a tray from one of the women, lit the oil lamp, smeared a little kumkum on my forehead, and started to move the tray clockwise. The women burst into a song praising Lord Venkateswara. Then she ordered Srikar to offer me a sweet. Flavours bursting in my mouth, and Ammamma by my side, I put my hennaed foot over the threshold, right foot first, and entered my new home. Exactly how I’d envisioned it. But for the absence of Chinni, and my sisters, it was perfect. We bent down to touch Srikar’s grandmother’s feet. She pulled us into an emotional hug. Drawing back, she cupped my face. “Welcome home, Child.”

  I was a little emotional myself. I could see why Ammamma, and this beaming lady of comfortable proportions were such good friends. I could see her sitting on the floor, legs stretched out, massaging my babies under the warm winter sun.

  She smoothed back my hair with a shaky hand. “Granddaughter of Seetamma, now daughter of my house.” Her voice quavered. “What more could I ask for?”

  A fair skinned daughter-in-law?

  For as long as I lived, I’d be grateful to this wonderful lady for not stating the obvious.

  Srikar’s grandmother shooed the men away before settling me down on a cot in the courtyard. She took my hands and slid a couple of gold bangles up each arm. Then she presented me with a platter displaying the jewellery she was gifting me.

  “I have nothing to give to Pullamma,” Ammamma said, not meeting her friend’s eyes.

  “Nonsense, Seetamma,” Srikar’s grandmother said. “We have been friends all our lives. You think I seek dowry from you? Isn’t it enough you have given us such a sweet daughter for our house?” She gave me a smile of great warmth. “God has showered so many blessings on us, I needn’t put out my hand in front of anyone. Besides, I won’t pack it and take it all with me, will I?”

  I had come home.

  ><

  Kondal Rao left after lunch.

  “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” I said. Since Srikar had refused Kondal Rao’s offer of a car, we were taking the bus back to the city. “Your grandmother is a wonderful lady.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Srikar’s eyes softened. “She never let me feel the lack of a mother. I am very lucky.”

  “Your grandfather was also trying hard.”

  “You noticed only my grandparents welcomed us?”

  The two giggly women were the maids of Srikar’s grandmother.

  “They probably didn’t want to share us because we were there for such a short visit.”

  He snorted.

  “What?”

  “Politics and power always have, and always will, come first with that man. He can’t afford to expose his connection to the Goddess, Pulla. Otherwise, a morally deficient, self-important politician like him, don’t you think he’d have commandeered the district machinery and thrown us a huge bash?”

  Chapter 22

  Call from Home

  A loud noise dragged me from sleep. I squinted at the clock across the room. “It’s past midnight!”

  The pounding on the door resumed. Srikar and I looked at each other. He got out of bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he called as he hurried to the door.

  Straightening my sari, I followed.

  Geeta’s husband was at the door. “Sorry to disturb you. Phone call.”

  Geeta often preened theirs was one of the few houses in the whole area with a telephone. They’d been so excited when the landlord put the building phone in their flat. Murali wasn’t looking too pleased now. In fact, he had an unmistakeably annoyed expression on his face.

  “Who is it?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know; news this late could only be bad.

  “Your sister is calling from the village. She is crying very hard.”

  Ammamma! Something had happened to her.

  It was more than a month since I’d talked to my grandmother. I turned to Srikar, face tight from the tension. He touched my hand briefly. “Whatever it is, we will deal with it.”

  In Geeta’s flat, I could see her six year old daughter through the open door of the bedroom, fast asleep. In the front room, where the phone was, the father-in-law slept in his corner. On the floor next to him, the mother-in-law was propped up on an elbow watching us, lips pursed.

  Srikar apologized for Lata’s middle-of-the-night phone call.

  The two year old started to wail at the commotion.

  Murali took the toddler out to the corridor.

  Geeta sat on her own mattress inside the bedroom, hand resting protectively on her daughter’s head.

  “Pullamma, I can’t believe it,” Lata said between sobs. “I... Ammamma... it is terrible.”

  For a second, I wanted to hang up and pretend the phone call had never happened. “What is it, Lata?” I said, trying to keep panic from my voice. “What happened?”

  From the bedroom, Geeta’s
eyes blazed with curiosity. Closer to me, the mother-in-law put her head back on the pillow and threw an arm across her eyes, emitting long-suffering groans.

  On the phone, Lata was sobbing so hard, she was incoherent.

  I tried taking a deep breath, but my chest hurt. “Is it Ammamma?”

  “No!” Lata was shocked out of her crying.

  “Chinni?” My voice got shrill. “Something’s happened to her?”

  “You think I’d waste my money on a phone call for her?”

  “What, then?” I loosened my grip on the phone receiver.

  Lata started to cry again.

  “Lata, if you don’t stop crying, how will I know what’s wrong?”

  “Pullamma,” Lata said sniffling, “my wedding has been cancelled.”

  “My God! What happened?”

  “Like you care.”

  “Lata, please,” I said.

  Srikar put a hand on mine.

  “I’m a fool, Pullamma, a fool. I ruined my future with my own hands.”

  “Just tell me,” I said, shouting.

  The mother-in-law glared.

  I lowered my voice. “Please.”

  “I had been pleading with Ammamma to let me study.”

  I nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see me. “Yes.”

  “Like always, Ammamma had been insisting that she wanted to marry me, the last granddaughter, off and be done with her responsibilities.”

  “Yes.”

  “I begged and begged her not to do it. She said she would never be able to explain to the villagers why she hadn’t done her duty by me. I told her I’d be happy to remain unmarried all my life, if only she’d let me study.”

  If Ammamma let Lata study, instead of getting her married off, she’d face the scorn of an entire village. Even if she did stand by Lata, how would she come up with a boy worthy enough to be the husband of a doctor? It wasn’t like we were rich city dwellers or anything.

  Lata continued between sniffs, “Finally Ammamma said ‘we’ll see.’ She has never said that before, Pullamma.” She gave a little sob. “I really thought she was thinking about letting me study. Instead she went behind my back and arranged a bride viewing.”

  Lata started to cry noisily. I ached for the tough position each was in. Lata, because being doctor was the only thing she’d ever wanted, and Ammamma, because she couldn’t easily defy social norms.

  “Lata, don’t cry,” I begged, conscious of Geeta’s family’s impatience.

  “I felt so betrayed by Ammamma, that the day the groom’s family was to come, I ran away to Jikki’s house.”

  What dishonour for Ammamma!

  “I begged Jikki’s parents to let me stay in their house till Ammamma’s anger cooled down.”

  “And?” With Lata, there was always an ‘and.’

  “A boy called Venkatesh was also there. He’s from the city, the son of Jikki’s family friends.”

  Please God, don’t let it be what I think it is.

  Lata drew in a shuddering breath. “He promised me all kinds of things, Pullamma. He promised to take me to the city, marry me, and help me become a doctor.”

  “What did you do?” I asked, voice rising despite my late night audience.

  She said instead, “Kondal Rao is demanding you come back, Pullamma.”

  I breathed in sharply, conscious that Geeta was listening. Friend or not, gossip was her first loyalty. I was also conscious that Lata hadn’t answered my question. But the mention of Kondal Rao had rattled me.

  “That’s right, Pullamma.” Was that satisfaction I heard? “He came home and shouted at Ammamma.”

  “Why?” I said, trying to force my voice out. How could he do this to us? Hadn’t our visit meant anything to him?

  “He’s going to get you back one way or the other. You’d better be prepared for it.”

  “He can want all he wants, but I am never going back,” I said, putting my mouth to the receiver. “Ever.” I breathed in shallow, soundless breaths and forced myself not to think of The Incident, with its attendant throngs of people. I instead focused on my current life with Srikar. My voice softened. “I had no idea it was possible to be this happy, Lata. I just can’t give this up.”

  Lata broke down again.

  Murali leaned against the door, his fingers thrumming against the back of his sleeping son.

  “What?” My palms were damp.

  Lata sobbed harder.

  “Lata?” I asked, voice rising again. “Stop crying and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I am with child.”

  Chapter 23

  Can Things Get Any Worse?

  Lata, pregnant!

  I gasped, though I knew this was coming. I felt my face go numb from the shock.

  Srikar, then Geeta gave me questioning looks.

  I shook my head.

  “Pullamma? Are you there?”

  “Uh, how... how did this happen?”

  “The usual way.” She sounded belligerent.

  “What about the… you know?”

  “He ran away to the city.” Sobs started to come in great heaves. Struggling for control, she said, “If Ammamma hadn’t arranged my marriage behind my back, I wouldn’t have been so angry. Then I wouldn’t have fallen for that boy’s sweet talk.”

  When I didn’t respond, her tone turned pleading. “Please, Pullamma. Help me get married to Venkatesh. Once I’m married, I’ll help you get away. Ammamma lost face in the village when I didn’t show up for the bride-viewing. If Venkatesh doesn’t marry me either…” She drew a shuddering breath. “After all, didn’t our elders say – help arrange a marriage, even if you have to tell a thousand lies to do so?”

  I was incredulous. Was this the same Lata who hated the traditional sayings related to marriage and girls? Tell a lie, beget a daughter. Bringing up a daughter is like fertilizing and watering a plant for someone else’s courtyard. “Didn’t you say he ran away?” I said, trying to keep my voice down.

  “Jikki’s parents will be able to track him down. After I’m married, I’ll convince Venkatesh to let me study further.”

  With a newborn at home? “What does Venkatesh do?”

  “He works in a tea stall on the outskirts of the city.”

  “Where will he get the money from?”

  “Headmaster garu told me that fee-waivers are available from the government for needy students. He said he would help me get into a government sponsored hostel, so I wouldn’t have to worry about boarding and lodging.”

  Why would a boy, who worked by the roadside for spare change, allow his wife to study? “This was before, uh, you know. These places take only unmarried girls.”

  “If I get married, I’ll have my own place, which is almost as good. I’ll still be able to study.”

  Lata’s naiveté overwhelmed me. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Tell Ammamma about my situation,” she said in a small voice. “She will kill me if I tell her myself.”

  ><

  A week went by, spent mostly in dodging Geeta’s relentless questioning. The rest of it went in trying not to think about Lata’s situation, about Kondal Rao’s demands to have me return, about Ammamma’s shock at Lata’s indiscretion.

  I opened the front door for the milkman early one morning, ready to dart in if I spotted Geeta. Instead I found Headmaster garu, hand poised to knock. So unexpected was his presence at my doorstep I just stared.

  “You won’t invite me in?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, recovering. “Please forgive my manners, Headmaster garu. Please come in.”

  He stepped over the threshold and ducked his head to enter our house.

  “Come in, come in,” Srikar said, hurriedly buttoning his shirt.

  Headmaster garu waited for me to unroll the mat before settling on it. “Please forgive me for coming at this early hour.”

  “No, no,” I said, waiting for more. This was no courtesy visit.

  Headmaster garu took a dee
p breath. “I don’t come bearing good news.”

  I wiped my palms against my sides, tense.

  “What happened?” Srikar asked, trying discretely to rub sleep from his eyes.

  “Elections are in a few days,” Headmaster garu said.

  “We spent an entire day with him and Srikar’s grandmother,” I said. “In their own house. He would never put his grandson’s wife in such a position.” Would he?

  “Word on the street is that Kondal Rao is poised to lose. Even the idol trick didn’t help. He is a desperate man.”

  “No…!” My voice sounded guttural, even to my ears.

  Srikar put a hand on me in silent support. “Why don’t we let Headmaster garu finish?”

  “It is what Pullamma suspects,” Headmaster garu said to Srikar. He sighed. “Kondal Rao is convinced Pullamma can help him reverse the situation. He wants her to come back to the village as a Goddess.”

  That first time I’d been naive, thrilled by the power, the money, the adulation. Now I had much more to lose. My husband, my life with him. If I were to go, how would I return to him? I started trembling violently.

  Srikar hurried to get me a blanket.

  Despite the thick material, I was chilled to the bone. “But we are on talking terms now,” I said.

  Srikar said nothing.

  “Your grandmother,” I said. “Can’t we seek her help?”

  “No, my grandfather will not listen to her. She tried to fight him when they were first married, but when she realized she had no influence on him at all, she gave up. She lives her life trying not to be tainted by his evil.”

  “I need to... uh... bring up something indelicate,” Headmaster garu said, a flush crawling up his neck. “Lata’s... uh...”

  I almost died of the humiliation. How could Lata have done such a thing? How would Ammamma ever look Headmaster garu in the face?

  “I’m so sorry, Child,” he said. “I know this is very hard for you.” He was apologetic. “But Kondal Rao found out.”

  The world seemed to stop. No sound. I saw Headmaster garu’s face, saw the motions his mouth made.

  Srikar shook me gently.

  I took quick, shallow breaths. Slowly, the sounds came back.