by Sudha Murty
‘No, I don’t. It hurts only if I use it too much or lift heavy things. But I feel like the odd man out in any crowd.’
Mridula felt his pain and did not know what to say. Sanjay continued, ‘When I had this problem, my mother gave me the courage to face it. She believed that I could be a good doctor despite my defect. She was my strength. My mother is responsible for what I am today.’
Sanjay became nostalgic. His mother, Ratnamma, was a petty moneylender. She loved money and finance. He had told her many times that he did not like her line of work but she said that she enjoyed it. She was right. Everybody should do what he or she enjoyed!
As Sanjay went down memory lane, he recalled that during the PT period in his school, the teacher would ask the students to stretch out their hands. All his classmates would make fun of him then. Sanjay would get upset and chase after them. When he could not catch them, he would go home and cry. Ratnamma would pacify him and say encouragingly, ‘Child, this was God’s decision. Who knows? One day, you may rule the world with this crippled hand!’
‘But you didn’t answer my question,’ Mridula reminded him.
‘Yes. I went to the hospital many times because of my hand. The doctors there helped me. So I also wanted to become a doctor. My father had three sisters and my mother had two. Since most of them died in childbirth, I thought about becoming a gynaecologist, even though I know that most women prefer female doctors.’
They finished drinking their tea and took the next boat back to the mainland.
For the next few days, Sanjay worked for half a day, and then he took Mridula out in the evenings. The days passed quickly and Mridula’s last day in Bombay came along. Her group arrived from Nagpur and Mridula planned to join them at the railway station. From there, the group was going to Kolhapur and then to Hubli.
Mridula started packing her bags and decided to wait for Sanjay at the women’s hostel. She liked to wait for him. She recalled that when she was admitted in the hospital and was given saline, Sanjay had stayed the whole night with her so that she would not feel alone in a strange city. She had felt shy at the time because she barely knew this young man. Still, she felt an attraction towards him and wondered whether she would see him again after today.
Sanjay was unable to concentrate on his work that day. He could not stop thinking about Mridula. He felt like he had known her forever. He had met her for the first time when it was raining in the dark and had caught her hand in Hubli. But the attraction was the same even in Bombay. It had not faded. He had seen beautiful and innocent girls in the movies and read about them in books, but it was difficult to meet such girls in real life. Sanjay felt lucky to know Mridula.
He thought to himself, ‘After she leaves today, when will I see her again? I know that whoever marries Mridula will be fortunate. Usually, people comment on my short arm and question me. Shamelessly, they ask me whether it is hereditary or a birth defect. It makes me feel inferior. But Mridula didn’t ask me about it and didn’t treat me differently after she learnt about my accident. I’ve met her parents and seen her home. I know that her family is content, not pretentious or money-hungry. In a marriage, if the wife is ambitious, then a simple person like me will suffer. Why can’t I be that fortunate person who marries her? We both belong to the same community and speak the same language. She is intelligent and both of us can adjust quickly if we get married. But no, I may not be good enough for her. She belongs to a well-to-do family and she might think of me only as a good friend. She may not have even thought of marriage. Maybe she likes someone else. Or her parents might want her to get married somewhere else. What if she herself says “no”? Do I have the capacity to bear rejection?’
For a minute, he was scared. Then he remembered Alex’s words: ‘No Indian girl will make the first move. That has to come from the boy. He has to ask the girl and the worst case is that she will say “no”.’
‘How do you know whether a girl will say “yes” or “no”?’
‘If the girl wants to say “yes”, she won’t agree immediately. She may say that I’ll let you know or I’ll talk to my father. If you get that answer, you know that she will say “yes”. The girl who wants to say “no” will tie a rakhi on your hand before you can even propose to her. She will publicly declare that you are like her brother. Some bold girl may even slap you. It is rare but you should be ready. Haven’t you heard the famous song Pyaar kiya to darna kya from the movie Mughal-e-Azam? It means that you should love a girl only if you have the courage to do so. Otherwise, you should have an arranged marriage—your parents and you should see the girl together and make the decision in five minutes.’
Sanjay was hesitant to express his love to Mridula but he did not have a choice. He remembered Mridula’s floral hairband. It was difficult for him to express his love through words. The hairband gave him a reason to write a letter to her. But now, he had an even bigger problem: he did not know how to write a love letter. He had no experience in this area. The twenty-five-year-old Sanjay struggled like a teenager writing his first love letter.
Dear Mridula,
You may be surprised to see my letter. I am not a great writer and this is my first letter to any girl. I like you a lot. What you see is what I am. I don’t want to lie to you. I come from a poor family. We have some land but I don’t have any other assets. I don’t have a father. My sister is already married. I am not equal to you in terms of looks or money. You already know about my hand. But I am hard-working and honest. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you feel the same way about me, then write back. Otherwise, destroy this letter and forget about it.
Sanjay
He read the letter again and again but did not know what else to write. So he put her hairband and the letter inside an envelope and sealed it.
Sanjay picked Mridula up from the women’s hostel and took her to VT station. The group was waiting for her there. Mridula joined them and sat at the train window to say goodbye to Sanjay. The engine whistled and signalled that the train was about to leave. Sanjay gave the envelope to Mridula with hesitation. In a low voice, he said, ‘This is important, Mridula.’
‘What’s this?’
But by then, the train had left the station and Sanjay was left standing on the platform, waving nervously.
5
Reflections
Sanjay came back to his room and wondered whether he had done the right thing. Maybe he should have faced her in person, expressed his feelings and said, ‘Mridula, I love you.’ That may have been far more effective than a letter. But he knew that that would have been much harder for him.
He wondered, ‘Would she have read my letter by now? What will she think? She can definitely find someone better than me. She is good-looking and an idealist. She has never seen poverty in her life. In fact, she has not seen the competitive world outside Aladahalli. Why should she marry me? After all, I am handicapped. My mother has a small moneylending business. How can I expect Mridula’s family to give their daughter to me?’
Still, he was hopeful. Bheemanna was talkative but not worldly-wise. Mridula was academically brilliant but not street-smart like his sister, Lakshmi. So they might agree. Sanjay was unable to eat his dinner. He lay down but sleep was a thousand miles away.
He could see the overpopulated Parel from his bed. He called Sister Indumati at the hospital and told her to call him only if there was an emergency. His mind jumped back to his childhood.
T. Narasipura, on the banks of River Kaveri, was his home town. He had studied there till his school-leaving examinations. At the time, his father was alive and his sister was unmarried. Their financial condition was bad. His mother, Ratnamma, had not had her moneylending business then. She used to only look after the land. Though she was uneducated, she was smart. She had a lot of knowledge about famines and how to handle them. His father was timid and he consistently worried about what people would say. But his mother was bold enough for both of them.
His father used to
tell him, ‘We should care about society and what people say.’ But his mother would say, ‘People will always give you advice, my child, but you must remember to do what you think is right.’
Their statements were as contradictory as day and night. Though Amma talked less, her decision was the final one in the family. People said that you should pick your battles. But Appa used to accept defeat easily. He said that there was no defeat or victory in life. Appa was detached.
The clock in the corridor struck midnight. It made Sanjay realize that he hadn’t got any emergency calls. Indumati must have diverted his duty to someone else. That was so nice of her. Still, he couldn’t sleep. His mind wandered again.
He got good marks in the school-leaving examinations. By then, his father had passed away and his sister, Lakshmi, was married and lived in a joint family. Her husband’s family lived in a huge house and all the four brothers worked and stayed together in Mysore. No one was ready to leave the family house and go because they knew that the brother who stayed in the house till the end would inherit it—it was the only family property. Movies like Hum Saath-Saath Hain and Hum Aapke Hain Koun advocated the importance and advantage of a joint family. But Sanjay had seen the selfishness, jealousy and negative undercurrents in large families and the false portrayal of a well-bonded family to society. It was better that people lived separately and kept cordial relationships with their siblings and parents, rather than staying in a joint family and fighting every day, he thought.
When he wanted to join a college in Mysore, his sister and mother had insisted that he stay in Lakshmi’s in-laws’ house. He did not want to stay there but he had neither the power nor the economic freedom to disobey his mother’s command. He was aware that his mother could not afford to keep him in a hostel and she believed that if he stayed in a joint family, he would be looked after. But that was a wrong assumption. Only a person who stayed with such a family knew what went on. There was fierce competition between the family members. The men had small differences about economic status but the women competed with each other over everything. If one of them bought a sari, the others would also buy one, even if it meant that their husbands had to borrow money. If someone bought gold jewellery, the others wanted to buy something even more expensive. Lakshmi had got used to staying in such an atmosphere and had adapted to the family. She had become one of them. But Sanjay felt suffocated there.
Amma sent two bags of rice for his initial stay, but Lakshmi’s sisters-in-law sarcastically said, ‘Only rice is not enough. You also need other things like dal and everyday items such as soap, toothpaste, hair oil, etc.’
Then they laughed at him. The children in the house asked him about his short arm repeatedly and made fun of his handicap. Sometimes, he got so upset with Amma and Lakshmi that he felt like staying in an orphanage. At least, he would have had some peace and quiet there.
Somehow, he survived the two years in that house. He was a good student and obtained excellent marks in his pre-university exams. When he decided to study medicine, he knew that he was good enough to get admission in any government college. He deliberately did not apply to Mysore Medical College and he got admission in Bangalore. Amma asked him, ‘Sanjay, why didn’t you get admission in Mysore?’
He lied to her, ‘Amma, I didn’t get admission in Mysore Medical College because I have less marks.’
The truth was that he did not want to stay in Mysore or in his sister’s house. He knew that it was not a good thing to lie, especially to your mother, but sometimes, white lies are essential to make our lives smoother. He himself had seen his mother lie sometimes, and he did not consider it a great offence. In the last two years, he had matured and heard a lot of lies in the joint family. He told his mother that he was going to study in Bangalore.
When he came to Bangalore, life seemed beautiful. But living in Bangalore was expensive. His eyes swelled with tears when he thought of how much his mother had to struggle to support him. He rented a small room on Santosh’s terrace. He cooked for himself and attended college. Santosh’s mother was a nice lady; she often said, ‘Sanjay, why do you struggle to cook every day? You are wasting your precious time. Eat in our house. I can easily add some extra rice in the cooker every day.’
But he never accepted her offer. During festivals, however, he ate lunch with them. His father had taught him an unforgettable lesson: ‘Child, too much is too bad. Even nectar in large quantities will turn to poison.’
It was Sanjay’s nature not to get too attached to anyone. He never liked sitting and chatting, getting into personal matters or advising people. That was why he did not have any bitter enemies or good friends. Even with Lakshmi and Amma, he only spoke when needed. He preferred to be by himself—just like a tortoise in its shell.
When Sanjay saw Mridula for the first time, he was surprised. She was a beautiful and blooming flower that swayed freely with the wind. She was genuine and full of affection. Her family’s hospitality came from the heart—unlike the house in Mysore where respect depended on how much money a person had. Mridula and her family’s lives were filled with positive energy. Each day was celebrated like a festival. Mridula smiled and laughed without reason. Was that why he was attracted to her? Somewhere, he had read that opposites attract. He knew that he was not attracted to her because of her financial status or the fields or farms her family owned. He believed in himself.
His mind came back to the present. Both of them had known each other for only a short time. They had never been friends before. The idea that Mridula might say ‘no’ to his proposal made him sweat in the cool night. The word ‘no’ was not new to Sanjay. He had experienced bitterness many times. But he would not be able to take it this time.
When he was studying in Bangalore, his extrovert classmate Vasudha was fairly close to him. They had studied together for five years and were good friends. She was also Santosh’s cousin and visited his house often. Santosh used to make fun of Vasudha’s friendship with Sanjay. Even though Vasudha was not very attractive, Sanjay used to see her every day and started liking her. At the time, he was in his early twenties. But one day, Sanjay overheard a conversation between Vasudha and Santosh as he was passing by.
Vasudha was saying, ‘Santosh, stop teasing Sanjay and me. He is my classmate and a brilliant student. I respect him. But I also pity him because of his hand. Why will a normal girl like me marry him? Pity is different from love.’
Her comments shocked him. He remembered what Amma had said: ‘Child, don’t express your deepest feelings to anyone unless you are sure about the consequences. You should never share your weakness without thinking it through. Otherwise, people will take advantage of it.’
But Appa had said just the opposite: ‘Every person is an island. You need a bridge to connect two islands. That bridge is called a relationship. In life, real affection comes not through hiding but through expressing your true feelings.’
Fortunately, he had followed Amma’s advice instead of Appa’s. Otherwise, everyone would have laughed at him then.
After this incident, he never talked to any girl until he was in Bombay. His heart was like stone. But it melted like butter next to fire when he met Mridula for the first time. It was not just the attraction—a sense of protection and belonging pulled him towards her. But he didn’t know what Mridula felt for him.
When he was thinking about the future after his internship, there was nobody to guide him. Ratnamma gave full freedom to her son to decide his future. She had said, ‘Sanjay, you are more educated than all of us. You can understand things much better than I can. I can only advise you that you should not fall prey to wrong things. Think practically and decide.’
Sanjay respected his mother for her frank opinions. But in Santosh’s house, both his parents interfered in everything he did. He had too many restrictions, while Sanjay was a free bird. Amma also expected the same freedom from her son. When she started a small shop, he had not liked it but she had still gone ahead.
Alex
was one year senior to him in college and they were good friends. During Sanjay’s internship, Alex had come from Bombay to meet him and asked him about his plans. Sanjay had said, ‘I want to do my post-graduation in gynaecology.’
‘That’s really good. But getting a seat in government quota in Karnataka is not easy. You have to be a topper. Otherwise, you’ll get anatomy or pathology.’
‘Yes, I know. I think that I should get some work experience too.’
‘Well, if you want to work, then come to Bombay. Do your residency and become a duty doctor in any government hospital. It has its advantages. You get excellent clinical practice and you learn how things work. At the same time, you can also prepare for your post-graduation entrance test. I am working in KEM Hospital. I can get you a job there but it won’t be permanent. The salary won’t be high either. But if you want to get some experience, Bombay is where you want to be. Work for a few years there and then you can decide what you want to do.’
Alex had given his contact details and left.
Sanjay never did anything in a hurry. So he thought about it. He had never been out of Karnataka and thought that this would be an opportunity for change. He did not want to take the entrance test without preparing for it. He had just heard that one of his brilliant classmates had not got through gynaecology. Maybe he had not done well in his entrance test. But it was a shock to Sanjay. So he thought that the best thing to do was to go to Bombay, get some experience, come back and then take the test.
He was still unable to sleep. Was he scared that Mridula would say ‘no’?
When he came to Bombay, he was terrified seeing the pace of the city. The city was overcrowded and he felt like going back to Bangalore. But Alex made his stay comfortable. He turned out to be a true friend. Alex was not academically brilliant, but his strengths were leadership qualities and networking skills. Within a week, Sanjay got a residency with the assurance that later, he would be a duty doctor as well. Usually, intelligent and trained young doctors didn’t work in government hospitals. They either joined private practices that catered to everyone or they went abroad to earn more money.
