The Rule Breakers

by Preeti Shenoy

  February 1996

  Pune

  Dear, dear Suraj,

  How are you, my friend? I hope you are doing well.

  Me—I am not doing so good. You must have heard from Vidya about the sudden death of my father-in-law. Because of that, I did badly in my mock exams. Granted, it is only the college internal exams. These marks do not get counted in the final year mark sheet. But still, it is disheartening.

  I haven’t yet recovered from the suddenness of all of this.

  I can only imagine how much more intense your pain must have been when you lost both your parents. Here, it is a person I have hardly known for a couple of months, yet I feel this bad. How did you cope, Suraj? How? I can’t even begin to fathom the burden you carry. My heart goes out to you, my friend. I wish I could lessen your pain in some way. It’s only now that I am even beginning to comprehend a bit of what it must have been like for you.

  Here, I am having a little trouble with my mother-in-law, henceforth referred to as MIL. My MIL thinks I am to blame for my father-in-law’s death. I wish Bhuwan would stand up for me. He doesn’t. I kind of feel alone.

  I am beginning to think that I have brought bad luck to this family.

  Anyway—enough of my married-woman troubles now. Let us talk about you.

  How is your grandmother? Have you finished reading Waverly? Did you start any other book? How are the preparations for your final exams going? What do you plan to do after your degree? Will you take up your father’s job, which you said you are eligible for? Or do you plan to study further?

  Write back soon, Suraj.

  I so eagerly await your letters, and Vidya’s too. I feel they are my lifeline.

  Your friend,

  Veda

  February 1996

  Joshimath

  Dearest, dearest Veda didi,

  How are you?

  You have no idea how worried your letter made me. Forgive me, didi, but I showed it to Suraj. It doesn’t sound like you at all, didi.

  Firstly didi—get this clear: YOU ARE NOT TO BLAME YOURSELF for your father-in-law’s death. It happened as it was fated to happen. How can you blame yourself?

  Secondly—whatever you wrote in that letter, it sounded like you have given up the fight. I do not know in what state of mind you were when you wrote that letter, but it didn’t sound good at all. You are just twenty. You have a whole life ahead of you.

  When I asked Suraj about your letter to him, he said you seemed a little sad, but otherwise you sounded okay. That got me even more worried. I had to know what you had written to him. I am so sorry, didi—I made him show me the letter. He was hesitant, initially. But I told him that if he didn’t do it, I wouldn’t help him in getting any more letters across to you. I arm-twisted him into doing what I wanted. You know how determined I can be, when I want to get my way.

  But didi, I did it only because I was worried about you. I noticed that you haven’t painted such a dreary picture in the letter to him. I knew immediately that you were putting up a brave front for him. That was when I decided to show Suraj the letter you wrote me.

  Didi, Suraj too was worried, after he read your letter to me. He said I should straightaway tell our parents about it. I told him that it would be of no use. I know what Papa and Ma will say. They will say that it is now your new home and you have to adjust.

  In fact, I had told Ma the gist of your letter. She said that every married woman has to learn to deal with her mother-in-law, and that is apparently a part of being grown up. She went into great detail about how her own mother-in-law was unfair to her, and how she adjusted and put up with it.

  I seriously think you should stand up to your mother-in-law. Do not take any nonsense that she dishes out. Some people understand boundaries only if you show them where they stand. You haven’t set any boundaries. That is the reason she is trampling all over you.

  I know we have been raised to respect our elders. But what if the elders are clearly in the wrong and are being unfair? Should we still respect them unquestioningly? I don’t think so.

  Didi—stop blaming yourself over this. I think you need a break, away from that house. Why don’t you visit us for a few days?

  Please talk to your mother-in-law and tell her you want to come here.

  I am studying hard for my exams. I have solved lots of practice papers and I hope to do well.

  Write back soon, didi.

  With all my love,

  Your sister,

  Vidya

  February 1996

  Joshimath

  Dear, dear Veda,

  I am so sorry to hear about how you are feeling and even more sorry to see how hard you are taking all of this. Forgive me, Veda, for showing your letter to Vidya. I read your letter to her, as well. In my defence, she insisted I read it.

  Look, it is NOT YOUR FAULT that your father-in-law died. Please STOP thinking it is.

  Also, Veda, you can always confide in me. You don’t have to hide your problems from me. We used to talk about everything so frankly—have you forgotten? We made a pact of friendship and I am here for you, my friend.

  Why don’t you stay back after college and study in the library? Come home late, if your mother-in-law is not letting you study at home. Carve your own path, Veda.

  I am still reading Waverly. I couldn’t find the time to complete it, as exam preparations got in the way. I also had some paperwork related to my parents’ death, which I had to submit to the company my father worked for.

  I think I will take up the job that they are offering, after graduation. They say I can start from June. I do not even have to wait for the final year results to be declared. My plan is to work for two or three years. Once I get work experience, I can take a sabbatical and do an MBA.

  I have spoken to Yagnik uncle, who is still with the company. He was my father’s friend and colleague. It is he who is my mentor and my guide. He too felt this would be a good idea.

  Life is tough. But we can be tougher.

  I am here for you any time you want to unburden yourself. Please feel free to use my shoulders.

  Study hard. Focus on just that and forget all of this.

  Write back soon.

  Your friend,

  Suraj

  Chapter 11

  February 1996

  Kailash Mandir Colony, Pune

  Veda read Suraj’s letter many times over the next few days. The words ‘carve your own path’ stayed with her. He had written it with a black sketch pen and had also underlined it. She found herself doodling those words in her notebook while in college, when the lecturer droned on about a topic she had already understood. Suraj was so right. She would have to do something about this. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. She could stay back after classes and study in the library. It was open till 6.30 in the evening, closing only when the administrative offices did.

  Veda decided to stay back that very day. It felt odd to not leave at her usual time of 3.30, but she was determined to study. She headed straight to the library, found a silent corner, and opened up a book. She discovered that she could concentrate on her work much better in the library, than she could at home. At home, there was the constant presence of Padma Devi. She did not know when she would be summoned, and she was constantly on pins and needles. Here, she was completely relaxed. For the first time in many months—since she had got married, really—she felt completely at ease.

  It was three hours later that she looked up, that too, only when one of the library staff gently approached her and told her it was closing time.

  ‘Oh, right. Thanks, I am just leaving,’ she said, as she packed up. Veda was pleased. In the three hours that she had spent there, she had managed to do more work than she had done in an entire week at home. Studying in the library was an efficient method and it was very productive too. She wished she could call Suraj and tell him this.

  When she got home, however, she did not feel so good anymore. Any joy at her accomplishm
ent quickly evaporated when she discovered that she had to face Padma Devi’s wrath.

  As she approached the flat, she noticed that the door was ajar. Padma Devi was pacing up and down in the drawing room. She looked up when she heard Veda enter.

  She glared at Veda, with her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed.

  ‘Where have you been? College gets over at 3.30, does it not? I have been waiting the whole time here for you.’

  Veda could not speak. She could feel her heart in her throat. The one thing that terrified her was someone’s anger. She just couldn’t think or process anything when someone was angry with her, and she was the target of their ire. Her mind shut down. She had no control over her body, and the reactions were physical. Her palms went cold. Her heartbeat intensified and she almost froze in terror. It was involuntary. Each step she took needed a massive effort.

  When she attempted to enter the house, Padma Devi blocked her way.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me? I asked you where you were.’

  Veda knew there was no escape. She wasn’t going to get away that easily. She had to answer.

  ‘I . . . I was in the library . . . Studying. . .’ she managed to get the words out, her voice strained and small.

  ‘Hah! Studying. Why can’t you study at home?’

  ‘I . . . It . . . It’s just that I had to refer to some books and they don’t let us borrow those books,’ said Veda, quickly improvising on the spot, the words tumbling out in fright.

  Padma Devi couldn’t refute that.

  ‘Hmmm. . .’ she said, as she stepped aside. ‘Don’t be late tomorrow onwards. Come home on time.’

  Veda exhaled. She had not even realised that she had been holding her breath. She entered the house, a wave of relief washing over her. It was a small triumph, she thought. She decided that she would speak to Bhuwan about it and she would continue to study in the library. She would tell him how imperative it was for her to stay back to study. He simply would have to speak to his mother about it. She did not get the same kind of focus at home, that she got in the library.

  That night, Bhuwan came home late. Veda had noticed that he had been coming home very late, well past midnight, the last few days. Despite her best efforts to stay up and wait for him so that she could talk to him, Veda was fast asleep when he entered their bedroom. She did not even stir when he crawled into bed and settled down, his back facing her. There was no exchange of tenderness or affection between them. They did not cuddle or hold each other like most newlywed young couples would.

  To Veda, it came as a relief that her husband was not the kind who was big on physical demonstrations of his love. She would have felt claustrophobic if he had insisted on hugging her through the night. She had heard stories from her married cousins, about how their husbands insisted on putting an arm or even a leg across their partners the whole night, and how they had now got so used to it that sleeping any other way was unimaginable. To Veda, it sounded suffocating, and she was comfortable that she and Bhuwan thought the same way about it. They were more like roommates sharing a bed, and Veda liked it that way.

  The next morning, Veda raised the topic with him when they were on the way to her college.

  ‘The only place I can study is the library. But your mother seems to be kind of upset about my staying back after college,’ Veda told him.

  ‘Why do you say that? Did she forbid you from staying back?’ he asked.

  ‘No . . . but she didn’t seem too pleased about it. She was angry.’

  ‘She is just mourning. I think we all have to find our ways of dealing with grief. Perhaps having you around comforts her?’ Bhuwan reasoned.

  ‘But my exams are around the corner, Bhuwan. If I don’t study, I will not do well.’

  ‘I know, Veda. I know. But right now, it would be impossible to talk to her. She is in no mood to listen.’

  ‘What do I do then?’

  ‘Let’s see Veda, we will find a way. In any case, she hasn’t directly told you anything, right?’ he asked.

  ‘She said I cannot be late again. Bhuwan, I try so hard to please her. And in doing that, my academic performance is suffering. I am finding it hard too, you know.’

  ‘I am so sorry about my mother, Veda. And thank you so much for being such an understanding daughter-in-law. I will see what I can do,’ he said.

  Veda kept quiet. Though he had thanked her, she could see that he was being non-committal. She hadn’t got the kind of support she expected from him.

  Veda was hurt that Bhuwan had not instantly jumped to her rescue and that he was not looking at it from her point of view. But this wasn’t even a battle of her versus her mother-in-law. All she wanted was a few hours in a day, to stay back and study.

  ‘Just humour her for a few days, Veda. She is not very pleasant if you don’t do what she wants,’ Bhuwan said after a while.

  Veda considered this for a few minutes as they drove through the Pune traffic in silence.

  ‘Have you never disobeyed her?’ Veda asked.

  ‘What?’ asked Bhuwan. He was lost in his own thoughts.

  ‘Your mother. Have you never disobeyed her?’

  ‘Oh. No, of course not! Why would I do that? She has done so much for me. She means well, Veda. Just win her over, and you will see,’ he said.

  That evening, after her classes were over, Veda looked at the exam timetable and was daunted by the amount of studying that she would have to do. There was so much to be done and not enough time. She thought about her conversation with Bhuwan that morning. If she wanted to study, she had to take matters into her own hands. She had no choice.

  So Veda stayed back in the library that day too, till it closed. She left only when the attendant told her it was closing time. She braced herself, telling herself that, today, she was prepared to face Padma Devi’s anger. She had got a good deal of studying done, and that made it worth whatever she would have to face, in her opinion.

  However, when she reached home, all the courage that she had felt earlier in the library, evaporated. The closer she got home, the more her anxiety grew. Her heart began beating faster and faster as she neared home.

  Padma Devi was waiting at the doorway for her. Veda froze when she saw her expression. She looked manic. She had a menacing, restless energy about her.

  ‘Where were you?’ asked Padma Devi, her voice steely.

  ‘Maaji, I told you yesterday. At the library, studying,’ replied Veda. The quiver in her voice betrayed her nervousness.

  ‘AND WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT COMING LATE?’ thundered Padma Devi. Her voice exploded in Veda’s ears. Veda almost jumped. She wasn’t expecting her to yell.

  ‘How DARE YOU disobey ME?’ she continued.

  Veda stood there, speechless, rooted to the spot.

  Padma Devi was glaring at her now, the full fury of her wrath directed at Veda. All Veda could see was her stocky frame, her tense shoulders, her angry eyes and flaring nostrils.

  Veda’s hands started shaking. Her heart began to beat in her ears now. Her palms were cold and clammy, and she balled her fingers into tight fists. She felt breathless, like someone was strangling her. This was the same feeling she used to have when she faced her father’s wrath, back in Joshimath. It made her feel small and insignificant. She looked at Padma Devi with frightened eyes.

  Padma Devi came towards Veda and grabbed the bag that she carried to college.

  She opened it and started flinging the books out into the corridor.

  ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you are up to,’ she yelled.

  Veda stood there, staring in disbelief. She was aghast. She had never faced anything like this before. Her books went flying in all directions. The pages of one of her books tore and fluttered in the corridor.

  To Veda, they felt like blows. Her books were things that she treasured, and she could not bear to see them handled this way.

  She bent to pick them up.

  Padma Devi grabbed her hair in her fist.


  Veda froze in fear. Her hands flew to her head to protect her hair. Pain jolted through her scalp as Padma Devi twisted the hair and shook Veda’s head.

  ‘DON’T YOU DARE DISOBEY ME—DO YOU HEAR?’ she yelled.

  Veda could not even nod. Moving her head caused even more pain.

  ‘THIS IS NOT YOUR MOTHER’S HOUSE WHERE YOU CAN DO AS YOU LIKE!’ she shouted, and gave Veda’s head a violent shake. Then she released her.

  Veda was sobbing openly now.

  She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She had never seen this violent side of her mother-in-law. Padma Devi had transformed into some kind of raging demon.

  ‘And don’t show me your crocodile tears. They do not melt anybody. Gather your books and get inside now. If you are late tomorrow, you need not enter the house,’ said Padma Devi, as she walked inside.

  Veda sniffled as she picked up her books. She could barely see through the tears that clouded her eyes. Her eyes stung. Her face was pale, drained of all colour. She couldn’t think. Her pulse was still beating in her ears, blocking out all other sounds. The tightness in her throat felt like a noose around her neck. Her breath was coming out in ragged, shallow gasps as she struggled to focus on the scattered books.

  Not even her father had treated her this way. She massaged her scalp where Padma Devi had grabbed her hair.

  ‘COME INSIDE NOW INSTEAD OF DAWDLING THERE,’ shouted Padma Devi from inside.

  Veda felt as though the voice was amplified and was coming at her through a hundred loudspeakers. She couldn’t bear it. Veda had never been this humiliated in her life. She was in shock. How could her mother-in-law do this? She was quivering with fright.

  It took a humongous effort to pick up all her books. She tried to stop sobbing. But the tears kept flowing.

  ‘Now stop crying and go and make some tea for me,’ said Padma Devi, as soon as Veda entered the house.

  Veda didn’t want her to start yelling again. Her hands still shaking, she made the tea and served her mother-in-law.

  Padma Devi barely glanced at Veda as she took the cup of tea from her hand and continued to watch TV.

  As Veda turned to go, she said, ‘My feet are hurting. Press them while I finish my tea.’