The Co-Wife & other Stories

by Ruth Vanita

  Suddenly, she heard the smaller child crying and saw that the older child was caressing him and saying with a lisp, ‘Bhaiya, be thwiet, be thwiet.’ He gently stroked the baby’s face and tried his best to quiet him. When the baby would not stop crying, he lay down beside him, held him to his chest and patted him. When this did not work either, he too began to cry.

  Just then, Panna came running, picked up the baby and said, as she cuddled him, ‘Why didn’t you leave the children with me, Bahu? The poor thing is rolling on the ground here. When I die do as you wish, but I’m still alive. We may have separated but the children are not separate.’

  Muliya said, ‘You too were busy, Amma.’

  Panna: ‘Why did you come here in such a hurry? You could have come later, to thresh the leftover grain. There are three boys—when are they going to be of use? Kedar was planning to do the threshing yesterday, but I told him to water the sugarcane first, and then do it. Threshing can wait ten days, but the sugarcane will dry up if it is not watered. The irrigation started yesterday, and will finish tomorrow. Then the threshing can be done. You won’t believe this, but ever since his brother died, Kedar has been very worried. He asks a hundred times a day, “I hope Bhabhi is not crying too much? Go see if the boys are hungry.” If one of the boys cries, he comes running to me, “Amma, if I’d known Bhaiya would go so soon, I would have helped nurse him.” You remember how he would get up from bed only when awakened, but now he gets up before dawn and goes to work. Yesterday, Khunnu said, “First, we’ll water our own sugarcane and then water Bhaiya’s.” Kedar scolded him so sharply that he didn’t speak another word. Kedar said, “Where’s the question of his sugarcane and our sugarcane? If Bhaiya had not looked after us we would either have died or been beggars today. And now you’ve become a big sugarcane owner! It is only because of his kindness and greatness that you are a respectable man today.” Day before yesterday I went to call him to eat, and found him sitting on the platform, watching the crops and crying. I asked, “Why are you crying?” He said, “Amma, Bhaiya died of sorrow because of this break-up. After all, he was so young. I didn’t realize it at the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have quarrelled with him.”’

  So saying, Panna looked meaningfully at Muliya, and said, ‘He won’t let you live separately, Bahu. He says, “Bhaiya died, longing for us, but we shouldn’t die, longing for his family.”’

  Tears kept flowing from Muliya’s eyes. Today, Panna’s words were full of true sorrow, true sympathy, true concern. Muliya’s heart had never been so drawn to her. Those from whom she had feared sarcasm and vindictiveness had become such kind well-wishers.

  Today, for the first time, she felt ashamed of her selfishness. For the first time, her heart reproached her for the break-up.

  9

  Five more years have passed. Panna is old now. Kedar is master of the house. Muliya is mistress of the house. Khunnu and Lachman are married, but Kedar is still single. He says, ‘I won’t marry.’ Many proposals have come for him, many have spoken of marriage, but he keeps refusing. Panna set many traps and spread many snares, but he could not be caught. He would say, ‘What happiness does one get from women? A wife comes into the house and a man’s attitude changes. The wife becomes everything to him. Mother and father, brothers and friends, all become strangers to him. Even a man like Bhaiya changed after marriage—what chance do other men have? God has given Bhaiya two boys. What else do I need? I have got two sons without marrying, what more can I ask for? Whoever you consider yours is yours; whoever you think of as a stranger is a stranger.’

  One day, Panna asked, ‘How will your line continue?’

  Kedar: ‘My line is continuing. I look upon the two boys as mine.’

  Panna: ‘If that’s the case, perhaps you consider Muliya your wife?’

  Kedar grew embarrassed and said, ‘Mother, you are abusing me!’

  Panna: ‘It’s not an abuse—she’s your Bhabhi, after all.’

  Kedar: ‘Why would she look at a rustic fellow like me!’

  Panna: ‘If you are willing, I will ask her.’

  Kedar: ‘No, she may start weeping.’

  Panna: ‘If it’s what you want, shall I find out how she feels?’

  Kedar: ‘I don’t know—do as you please.’

  Panna understood Kedar’s feelings. He had given his heart to Muliya, but he was too shy and fearful to say so.

  The same day, she said to Muliya, ‘What can I do, Bahu, my heart’s desire is unfulfilled. I would be at peace if Kedar were settled.’

  Muliya: ‘He just won’t agree.’

  Panna: ‘He says he will marry if a woman can be found who will live peaceably in the family.’

  Muliya: ‘Where to find such a woman? Where can we look?’

  Panna: ‘I have found her.’

  Muliya: ‘Really? To which village does she belong?’

  Panna: ‘I won’t tell you right now, but I know that if she marries Kedar, the family will be stable and Kedar will be happy and successful. I don’t know if the girl will agree or not.’

  Muliya: ‘Why wouldn’t she agree, Amma? Where can she find such a good-looking, hardworking, well-behaved husband? He was a sage or a mahatma in a former lifetime, otherwise who remains unmarried for fear of family conflict? Where does she live? I’ll go and persuade her.’

  Panna: ‘You can persuade her if you wish. It’s all up to you.’

  Muliya: ‘I’ll go today, Amma. I’ll fall at her feet and persuade her.’

  Panna: ‘Shall I tell you? It’s you!’

  Embarrassed, Muliya said, ‘Mother, you are abusing me.’

  Panna: ‘Why? He is your younger brother-in-law!’

  Muliya: ‘Why would he be interested in an old woman like me?’

  Panna: ‘He is interested only in you. No one else attracts him at all. He is afraid to say so, but I know what is in his heart.’

  Muliya’s body, withered and yellowed by widowhood, glowed red like a lotus. It was as if in this one moment, she had got back with interest everything she had lost in ten years—the same charm, the same bloom, the same beauty, the same elasticity.

  Subhagi

  OTHER PEOPLE MAY PREFER THEIR SONS BUT TULSI MAHTO LOVED HIS daughter Subhagi not a whit less than his son Ramu. Ramu was a young man but something of a dullard. Subhagi was only a child of eleven, but so clever at housework and so skilled in farming that her mother Lakshmi was always afraid lest the Gods cast their eye on the girl. Even God loves good children. She would keep scolding Subhagi to forestall any praise of her. She wasn’t afraid, like some people, that the child might be spoilt by praise; she was afraid of the evil eye! And today Subhagi had become a widow at the age of eleven.

  There was pandemonium in the house. Lakshmi was throwing herself about on the ground and weeping. Tulsi was beating his head. Seeing them cry, Subhagi too started crying. She kept asking her mother, ‘Why are you crying, Amma? I won’t leave you and go anywhere, why do you cry?’ Her innocent words tore at her mother’s heart. She thought, ‘God, is this a sport to you? The games you play hurt others! It is only the insane who play games of this kind. A person who goes mad is sent to the madhouse, but you cannot be punished for your madness. What is the point of a game in which others cry and you laugh? You are called merciful. Is this your mercy?’

  And what was Subhagi thinking? If she had a roomful of money, she would hide it. Then, one day, she would quietly go to the market and buy her mother beautiful clothes. When her father came to ask for some loose change, she would give him a lot of money. How happy her mother and father would be!

  2

  As Subhagi grew up, people began to exert pressure on Tulsi Mahto to get her married. ‘It’s not good for a young girl to roam around like this. Remarriage is not frowned upon in our community, so why do you hesitate?’

  Tulsi said, ‘Brothers, I am willing, but only if Subhagi agrees. She absolutely refuses.’

  Harihar explained to Subhagi, ‘Beti, we say this for your own good
. Your parents are old, how long can you depend on them?’

  Subhagi said, her head bent, ‘I understand what you are saying, Chacha, but my heart does not tell me to remarry. I am not worried about comforts. I am ready to endure everything. I’ll obey you in whatever else you say, but don’t tell me to settle down. If you see me misbehave, cut off my head. If I am truly my father’s daughter, I will be true to my word. But it is God who protects one’s honour—who am I to make any claims?’

  The uncouth Ramu intervened, ‘If you think you’ll sit idle and enjoy yourself while I earn, think again. I haven’t contracted to support you all your life.’

  Ramu’s wife went even further. She said cheekily, ‘We are not indebted to anyone, we don’t owe anyone anything. Here, people want fine clothing and fine food, we can’t afford it.’

  Subhagi said, with dignity, ‘Bhabhi, I am not dependent on you, and God willing, I never will be. You look after yourself, don’t worry about me.’

  When Ramu’s wife realized that Subhagi would not remarry, she began to bully her even more. She was always ready to pick a quarrel. It was as if she enjoyed making her cry. The poor thing would get up before dawn and start grinding and pounding grain, then she would cook and do the dishes, prepare cow dung cakes, and go to the field to work. She would return in the afternoon and quickly cook and feed everyone. At night, she would sometimes oil her mother’s hair and sometimes give her a massage. Tulsi was a devotee of the hookah. Subhagi would keep refreshing it for him. As far as possible, she did not let her parents do any work. But she did not try to take on her brother’s work. She thought, ‘He’s a young man, if he doesn’t work, how will the house run?’

  Ramu didn’t like this. She didn’t let their mother or father lift a finger but she wanted to grind him to bits! One day he lost his temper, and said to Subhagi, ‘If you are so attached to them, why don’t you live separately with them? Then, if you continue to serve them, we’ll see whether you find service sweet or bitter. It’s easy to earn praise on the strength of others. One who relies on his own strength is courageous.’

  Subhagi didn’t reply because she didn’t want to get into a fight. But her parents, sitting nearby, heard him. Mahto could not contain himself. He said, ‘What’s the matter, Ramu? Why do you fight with the poor thing?’

  Ramu came up to him and said, ‘Why are you interfering? I am talking to her, not you.’

  Tulsi: ‘As long as I am alive, you can’t harass her. Do as you like after I am gone. You have made it difficult for the poor thing to live in this house.’

  Ramu: ‘If your daughter is so dear to you, tie her to your own neck. I can’t bear this.’

  Tulsi: ‘Fine. If that’s what you want, let’s do it. I’ll call the village elders tomorrow and divide the property. You can live separately, but Subhagi cannot.’

  Later that night, when he lay down, Tulsi remembered the past. He had taken a loan for the celebrations at Ramu’s birth, but when Subhagi was born, he hadn’t spent a paisa although there was money in the house. He had thought his son a gem, and his daughter a punishment for the sins of a previous birth. How hard that gem had turned out to be, and how pleasant the punishment!

  3

  The next day, Mahto gathered the men of the village and said, ‘Elders, Ramu and I cannot get along together any more. I want to take whatever you consider fair to give me, and live separately. It’s not good to squabble day and night.’

  The village chief, Baba Sajan Singh, was a very good man. He called Ramu and asked, ‘Well, do you want to live apart from your parents? Don’t you feel ashamed to get rid of your parents on your wife’s instructions? Ram! Ram!’

  Ramu said, brazenly, ‘When people can’t get along, it’s best to separate.’

  Sajan Singh: ‘What problems do you have living with them?’

  Ramu: ‘If there was just one problem I could tell you about it.’

  Sajan Singh: ‘Tell us something at least.’

  Ramu: ‘Sir, I cannot live with them. That’s all I know.’

  So saying, Ramu walked off.

  Tulsi: ‘Now you all have seen his attitude! Even if you decide to give him three quarters of the property, I will not live with this wicked fellow. God has given my daughter sorrow otherwise I wouldn’t need to farm the land. I would work as a labourer and earn enough to eat. May God not give such a son even to my worst enemy! It is true that a dutiful daughter is better than a son.’

  Suddenly, Subhagi came up and said, ‘Babuji, this division is because of me, so why don’t you let me live on my own? I will work as a labourer and support myself. I’ll keep helping you out as much as I can, but I’ll live separately. I can’t see the family break up. I don’t want to be the one responsible for this.’

  Tulsi said, ‘Beti, we won’t leave you, even if it means losing the world! I don’t want to see Ramu’s face, so living with him is out of the question.’

  Ramu’s wife said, ‘If you don’t want to see his face, we have no desire to worship you either.’

  Mahto clenched his teeth and got up to hit his daughter-in-law, but the others caught hold of him and stopped him.

  4

  As soon as the division took place, Mahto and Lakshmi became like pensioners. Earlier, even though Subhagi told them not to, both of them did some work or other all day, but now they had complete rest. Formerly, they both used to long for milk and ghee. Now, Subhagi saved some money and bought a buffalo. Old people’s greatest pleasure is food. For what will they live if they don’t get good food? Mahto strongly opposed the idea of getting a buffalo. He said, ‘You already have so much work to do, why take on another job?’ To placate him, Subhagi said, ‘Babuji, I don’t enjoy food without milk.’

  Lakshmi said, laughing, ‘Beti, since when have you started telling lies? You never even touch milk, where’s the question of drinking it? You stuff all the milk into our stomachs.’

  Everyone in the village sang Subhagi’s praises. She is not a girl but a goddess, they said. She works as hard as two men, and also serves her parents. Sajan Singh declared that she had been a goddess in a former birth.

  But perhaps Mahto was not fated to enjoy this happiness for very long.

  He developed a high fever which lasted a week or so. Lakshmi sat by him, weeping. Subhagi stood nearby, with water. Mahto had asked for water a moment ago, but by the time she brought it, his condition had deteriorated and his hands and feet had turned cold. Subhagi went to Ramu’s house and said, ‘Bhaiya, come and see Babuji, he is very ill. He’s had fever for a week.’

  Lying on his string cot, Ramu replied, ‘Am I a doctor who needs to come and see him? As long as he was well, you always hung round his neck like a necklace. Now that he’s dying, you come to call me!’

  Ramu’s wife came out and asked Subhagi, ‘Didi, what has happened to Babuji?’

  Before she could answer, Ramu said, ‘Nothing has happened, he’s not going to die yet.’

  Subhagi didn’t say any more, but went straight to Sajan Singh. After she left, Ramu laughingly said to his wife, ‘These are what they call feminine wiles.’

  Wife: ‘What has it to do with feminine wiles? Why don’t you go?’

  Ramu: ‘I’m not going. Let him live with her, as he decided to. I won’t go even if he dies.’

  Wife (laughing): ‘If he dies, you will have to go to light the pyre, how can you run away from that?’

  Ramu: ‘Absolutely not. His beloved Subhagi will do it all.’

  Wife: ‘Why should she do it when you are here?’

  Ramu: ‘She set up house separately with them while I was here, that’s why.’

  Wife: ‘No, this is not good. Let’s go see him. After all, he is your father. How will you show your face in the village?’

  Ramu: ‘Be quiet, don’t preach.’

  As soon as Sajan Singh heard of Mahto’s illness, he went with Subhagi. By the time he reached, Mahto’s condition had worsened. Sajan checked his pulse and found it very low. He realized that li
fe was ebbing and he was in the presence of death. With tears in his eyes, he asked, ‘How do you feel, Mahto Bhai?’

  Mahto seemed to awaken from sleep, and said, ‘Very well, Bhaiya! It’s time for me to go. Now you are Subhagi’s father. I am leaving her with you.’

  Sajan Singh broke down and said, ‘Brother Mahto, don’t be afraid! If God wills, you will get well. I have always thought of Subhagi as my daughter and will always do so, as long as I live. Don’t worry at all; as long as I am alive, no one can harass Subhagi or Lakshmi. If there’s anything else you want, tell me.’

  Mahto looked at him meekly and said, ‘Nothing else, Bhaiya. May God give you every happiness.’

  Sajan Singh: ‘I’ll go and call Ramu. Forgive whatever mistakes he has made.’

  Mahto: ‘No, Bhaiya. I don’t want to see the face of that sinful murderer.’

  After this, preparations began for gifting a cow in the dying man’s name.

  5

  The whole village tried to persuade Ramu, but he would not agree to perform the last rites. He said, ‘The father who refused to see my face even when he was dying is not my father and I am not his son.’

  Lakshmi set the pyre alight. In the short time that she had lived on her own, Subhagi had somehow managed to collect enough money to buy the goods necessary for the thirteenth-day rites. The villagers were amazed. She had procured an abundance of pots and pans, clothes, ghee, sugar and everything else required for the ceremony. Ramu burned with envy when he saw this, and Subhagi showed the stuff to everyone, with the intention of making him burn.