“There is a shadow of sorrow in Prakash’s poems.” The talk during the free hour was on the poems Prakash brought that day.
“ Man’s permanent mood is sorrow, isn’t it? Only sorrow can touch the heart deeply. I don’t like anything that doesn’t touch it deep. Even the relations…”
“ It’s true Prakash. I also feel the same way. Well, our subject is literature. It must be its characteristic.”
“ Or, we must have chosen this subject because of our characteristics.”
“ The images you have used are very impressive. The image of ‘the precious gem’ is recurring. What is it? Love or…?”
“It can be love. Or if you give a figure of a person to love, it can refer to that. It can be my power, concept of love, or my idol of worship. The reader can attribute those meanings or anything above or below it.”
“ Your poems are beautiful. You should make it into a book.”
“ Yes. You are right. Then I want to dedicate it to one person.”
“To whom? To Seena?” I asked partly in fun.
“ Eh..No no… Seena has not yet been able to overpower my heart. She is a good girl. But…”
“ Both of you look a perfect pair!”
“ Maybe. She is a good wife. I too try to be a good husband for her. But…”
Still a ‘but’…
“This is very strange. A good wife and a good husband. Still, you are dissatisfied. I think you men are usually like that. Even if you get whatever you wanted, you will want something else.” I commented with a laugh.
“Only if I get what I wanted. I desired something: but I got something else. My dissatisfaction is quite natural, isn’t it?”
“ Isn’t life like that, Prakash?” What we desire is one thing; what we get is another thing. Then we try to adjust to it.” Unknowingly a sigh of disappointment heaved from me.
Has Prakash read the whole story from my eyes?
“ Though there’s full daylight around us, being unable to draw from it, we live keeping a dark circle within us.” Recalling the two lines from the poem, Prakash spoke as if to himself.
‘What’s it? I think it’s a Poetry fest.” Thomas Abraham’s entry was a great relief. It lessened the prevailing tense mood.
Many others came in to the department aftertheir classes. The scene got more interesting.
“ I want my audience to laugh alound and create noisy situation. I can’t tolerate those who hang on poetry day and night. Can they laugh aloud for once atleast? Very bad!” He squinted his eyes looking at me and Prakash.
“ We should not leave them alone. They will catch the fever of poetry. If there’sn’t anybody between them, there will be a tense atmospehere.” George sir commented.
“Let it be our Joker himself to act as the middle man.” Mrs.David meant Thomas Abraham sir as the joker.
“ No…no…Shakespearean fool! I like that name better.”
“ There won’t be any problem even if we drop ‘Shakespearean.’” Babu sir’s rejoinder.
“ It’s always like that. We will adore and shower flowers for those who make us weep. We will call them ‘Great.’ But we call the one who makes us laugh a fool. What to do! This is the twisted world!” Thomas Abraham sir pretended to be sorrowful.
The conversation led to the Staff Picnic. Many gave their opinions. I had nothing to say. It’s going to be a family trip. Roy won’t come; he won’t allow me to go either. We had gone only once. Knowing that, Mrs.Kurian asked :
“Will Prameela and Roy come?”
“ Not likely.”
“ My hubby is looking forward to it. He is mad about trips.” Leela Nair said.
“ Prakash, why don’t you say anything? Are you planning not to bring your better partner?”
Prakash laughed.
“ Actually, we won’t get any freedom if we bring our wives.” It was Babu sir’s comment.
“ Same is the case if we bring our husbands, you know. We have to look after them wherever we go.”
“ Then what about avoiding both the parties?” Babu sir voiced his opinion.
“ No..no.. I simply said it. It’s fun to have everybody.” Mrs.David joinedthe conversation.
“ Even otherwise, don’t we know that Mrs.David can’t be expected for any programme without Mr.David?” Thomas Abraham sir made fun of her.
Discussion and digging at each other continued. I remembered the matter of the picnic when I was sitting in the bus for my return journey. I can’t even desire for a picnic. Roy had ridiculed the trip several times after the few trips we went for together.
“How boring a journey it was! I can’t make friends with your people.”
I was feeling the same in Roy’s company. Once or twice I went with Roy’s friends’ families. Somehow I couldn’t fully join them. While they were boisterously making fun, I felt only boredom within me.Though I tried to co-operate with them as best as I could, there was a limit for it too. I was severely abused by Roy for it.
“ You cannot be included in our company. You learn from them.Mere ‘Jungly’!
“What’s the use in saying that you are an M.A. ? You can’t interact with people outside.
How different is the world for each! Humanbeings!What all I have learned is wrong. Rubbish. Where should I starat? How to begin again?
“ You better learn from them. Can you ever give them a party like this? You can only pretend to be a white collar lecturer! Ah..we can take them to some hotel. What to do other than that!”
These days Roy goes to party and trips alone. He would be comingvery late completely drunk. I am his wife who is denied the privilege to correct him by love or authority. I’m only fated to be a hanging puppet!
How many expereinces enough to stab into my soul have occurred! When I am drowned in such experiences, Troy will be in deep sleep.If only Roy came and consoled me! I merely wished. I have experienced the intense pain of being isolated and ignored.
Has my life turned to be dark? My future? My life?
Mon was waiting at the gate. I lifted him to my side. His small face brightened. A sweet smile budded forth on his face. That moment! If it’s not brightness, what then it is!
Roy was not at home. Santha said:” Sir got dressed and left with a box.”
Has he set out for another jouney, I guessed. He doesn’t often say where he goes; not even when he comes back. I will wait for him days and nights. Finally, one fine day, he will come.
When I entered the room I felt suddenly an emptiness. Mon was running here and there. He was muttering some things inaudibly. My mind wandered without focusing on anything happening around me.
(Cont’d)
About The Author
