The Forbidden Daughter

by Shobhan Bantwal

  talking a little. Despite the lingering pain, the doctor had pronounced the surgery a success. She would be going home soon.

  A full-time nurse had been lined up to stay at the house and take care of Ayee for the next couple of weeks.

  The convalescence would be long and Ayee would have to make a complete lifestyle change. No more sweet-as-syrup tea with loads of thick milk, no more deep-fried pakodas—vegetable fritters—dipped in ketchup at the ladies’ afternoon meets, and no more late-night mahjong and bridge parties. She would have to start exercising a little, too, something she’d never done before.

  Ayee winced. “It was very brave of Priya,” she said, breaking her gaze away from Sheila’s, clearly ashamed of admitting it.

  “For a six-year-old child, it was incredibly brave—and thoughtful, considering how you and Baba treated her.” Sheila noticed the flush that came over her mother’s face, and wondered if perhaps this kind of emotional talk was suitable for a woman in her condition. Notwithstanding the doctor’s optimistic pronouncement, she still looked ill.

  Ayee closed her eyes and lay in that state for several minutes, making Sheila think she was resting. But then she opened her eyes and stared at Sheila, the hazel gaze so much clearer and more focused than it was only hours ago. “I want to see Priya.”

  “Why?”

  Ayee let out a soft breath. Her breathing was still shallow. “I want to thank her.”

  In spite of her mother’s weakened condition, Sheila’s temper sparked. “You haven’t seen her in over a year. Why now?”

  A ghost of a smile appeared over the older woman’s face, making the dry, chapped lips look like they were fashioned out of parchment paper. “I might die. I don’t want to go without talking to her.”

  Instead of replying, Sheila rose from the bedside chair and went to stand by the window. Her temper continued to simmer.

  Priya and Diya had been treated like lepers by her parents and now that her mother had made it to the other side and back, she suddenly wanted to atone for her sins.

  192 Shobhan Bantwal

  A moment ago Sheila had thought it was genuine regret that had prompted her mother’s request, but then Ayee had said something about not wanting to die before talking to Priya. So Ayee wanted absolution before she could face her God. Never mind about Priya and what she’d done to save her callous grandmother’s life.

  She turned around to face Ayee once again. “So this is all about you, not about her.”

  “I want to tell her I’m sorry.” Ayee’s eyelids were drooping.

  “A little late for that, isn’t it?” Sheila shot back. “You had six years to show her your affection and you never gave her any.

  You never once held her or bought her a present. You didn’t even stop Baba from spanking her. And yet the child did everything she could to save you.”

  “I know.” Shutting her eyes, Ayee seemed to meditate on the thought. “It was stupid of me . . . thoughtless.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “It was wrong.”

  “Ah, so you recognize that you and Baba were mean and petty toward your own grandchildren.”

  “Yes. I want to apologize before it is too late.” Ayee’s voice had shrunk to a whisper, indicating that she was rapidly getting tired. The tears were trickling down her temples and soaking into the white pillow, making wet circles on either side of her head.

  As Sheila watched her mother cry, her heart began to constrict. And her temper vanished. Ayee rarely cried—or rather, that used to be the case before Niku’s death.

  After Niku’s passing her mother had wept and wept, making Sheila aware for the first time in her life exactly how much Niku had meant to Ayee. She’d always known it, of course, but witnessing her relatively detached mother fall apart emotionally in mere seconds, crumble to pieces, had brought home the stark reality of it.

  It was as if producing a son was the only reason Ayee had been put into this world. So when he was gone, there was nothing left for her to live for. Sheila had wondered several times since Niku’s death if Ayee would have reacted the same way if it THE

  FORBIDDEN

  DAUGHTER 193

  was she who’d died and not her brother. She knew the answer: After a brief period of mourning, Ayee would have moved on.

  Sheila was only a daughter, a product of her and Baba’s marriage, but not the light of her parents’ lives.

  The knowledge hurt like hell. But she had to live with it.

  She started pacing the length of the room. What was she going to do about this latest development? Should she ask Isha if Priya could visit her grandmother? Isha was likely to balk at the idea. And who could blame her?

  But on the other hand, Ayee was in genuine pain, scared that she might die and would never have a chance to apologize to her granddaughter, never be able to make up for a lifetime of mistakes.

  Sheila had heard about near-death experiences and how they changed a person completely. Ayee was turning into living proof of that phenomenon. Sheila had never dreamt that her mother, with her obstinate streak, would regret mistreating her granddaughter.

  She went back to sit in the chair. “I’ll have to ask Isha about it.” She gave Ayee a candid look. “She has every right to turn down your request. You know that.”

  Her mother nodded.

  “I’ll try my best, Ayee, but I can’t promise.” She thought of something else. “You know you have another granddaughter, don’t you? Her name is Diya.”

  Another brief nod.

  “Diya is just as beautiful as Priya, maybe even more so. She’s a happy, friendly baby . . . delightful. Kumar and I would have loved to have a baby girl like her.”

  Ayee sniffled. “I know.”

  “Both the girls have taken after Niku. They have your eyes, Ayee—the exact shade, too.” She shook her head sadly at her mother. “You don’t know what you’ve missed by keeping them out of your life. By rejecting them you’ve rebuffed Niku’s spirit.”

  “I want to see Diya also,” her mother murmured.

  One of Sheila’s eyebrows flew up. “Are you sure? Don’t for-194 Shobhan Bantwal

  get you never wanted that child to be born in the first place. You called her a curse.”

  “Another mistake.” A minute later Ayee seemed to be asleep, her breathing becoming more regular and the lines of strain in her brow easing out.

  Sheila watched her mother sleep the uneasy sleep of a woman who’d made a lot of mistakes in her life. Once again she felt a twinge of anguish. Getting caught between a mother she loved deeply and a sister-in-law and her children who were equally dear was exhausting. And painful.

  With a sigh Sheila dabbed the moisture around Ayee’s eyes with a handkerchief. “If you really mean it, I’ll try my best,” she whispered. “Who knows? This may be the best thing that’s happened to our family. Good things can come out of bad ones sometimes.”

  As she tiptoed out of her mother’s room she noticed her father walking down the corridor toward her, his long, purposeful strides unmistakable. He looked tired and his clothes were un-characteristically disheveled. Even his hair was a little longer than his usual neat, conservative style. He obviously hadn’t visited his barber in several weeks.

  Baba hadn’t reacted well to Ayee’s breakdown in health. He hadn’t looked this weary since the days immediately following Niku’s death. Between going back to managing the business full time and worrying over his wife, his life was more stressful than ever.

  “She’s sleeping,” Sheila warned him as he came to a stop in front of her.

  “Is she still in a lot of pain?” he asked, inclining his head toward the partly closed door.

  “She’s much better today than the last couple of days. By the way, she talked quite a bit.”

  “About what?” Baba gave her a suspicious look.

  Better to tell him the truth, concluded Sheila, before he heard it from Ayee and yelled at her. Ayee couldn’t handle his kind of temper tantrums at the moment. “She wants to s
ee the children.”

  THE

  FORBIDDEN

  DAUGHTER 195

  “But Milind and Arvind already visited her this afternoon, didn’t they?”

  She glanced at him for an instant, then looked away. “She wants to see Niku’s children.”

  “Oh, that!” Baba’s cheeks turned a dull red. “She mentioned that to me last night.”

  “So you know about this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it is insanity! What is done is done. Isha left home on her own. We didn’t force her to go.”

  “Maybe not in words, but certainly by your behavior. You beat up Priya and made her life and Isha’s miserable after Niku passed away.” Even before that by putting pressure on Isha to have an abortion. But Sheila decided to leave that out. Her father looked beleaguered enough without her punishing comments.

  “Priya was being disobedient and Isha was being insolent.

  She was talking back to me.” Baba folded his arms across his chest and scowled. “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “If you ever spanked either of my children, I would do the same thing Isha did.” Sheila was amazed at her own temerity.

  She had never, ever spoken disrespectfully to her father. He had been a strict disciplinarian while she was growing up and she’d obeyed his every command.

  But now she couldn’t stop herself. The emotional dialogue with her mother a little while ago had touched a dormant nerve.

  She felt the need to set him straight. “A mother has to protect her children by any means she can, and Isha did just that.”

  “If that’s what you call her arrogant behavior,” he retorted.

  “She is on her own now.” Baba grasped the doorknob, getting ready to enter Ayee’s room. “I want nothing to do with her.”

  “She may be on her own, but she still cares about Ayee and you,” Sheila countered. “She’s even praying for Ayee’s recovery.”

  Baba snorted like an incensed bull. “Cares? She has brought shame on the Tilak name by running away and staying in a convent like a homeless woman. By deliberately living in poverty she has made your mother and me look like fools. She has made 196 Shobhan Bantwal

  all our friends and the entire town label us as abusers. People are either laughing at us or calling us heartless because of her.

  Why would we want to have anything to do with her?”

  “You better ask Ayee that question. She wants to see both her granddaughters.”

  Baba dismissed her in his usual, haughty fashion. “I will talk her out of it. All those strong medicines are affecting her mind.

  When she goes home and feels better, she will come to her senses.”

  With a frustrated groan Sheila took off down the corridor.

  There was no arguing with her headstrong father. She was convinced he’d bully Ayee out of seeing her grandchildren. Such a shame! She only hoped he would come to recognize his mistakes just like her mother seemed to have done in recent days.

  And she sincerely hoped it would happen before it was too late.

  “You want to marry Isha Tilak?” Satish Salvi gave his brother a wide-eyed look.

  “Yes,” Harish replied.

  “Bad idea, Harish.”

  “Why? Just because she’s a widow or because she has children?” Harish picked up the remote and began flicking channels on the television in his brother’s drawing room. It was a little after dinner. Their parents and Reshma had gone to bed some time ago. Prachi was out on a medical call, delivering a baby.

  Harish had seized the opportunity to catch his brother alone and broach the topic that had preyed on his mind for so long.

  “Both,” said Satish, settling back in the easy chair and cross-ing his ankles. “You know Dada and Mamma have high hopes for you. They want you to marry a doctor, or at least some type of professional.”

  “What does marrying a professional have to do with being happy?”

  Satish linked his hands over his middle and eased his head back onto the headrest. “A lot. Our parents have always wanted us to have a better life than they did.”

  THE

  FORBIDDEN

  DAUGHTER 197

  “And we do. Look at the two of us. Our incomes are astronomical compared to what Dada’s salary used to be.”

  Satish groaned. “I didn’t mean just economically. I meant in every other way. Dada married a woman with limited education. No doubt Mamma is a bright woman, but she’s not an in-tellectual. Dada and she could never connect on that level despite having a satisfactory marriage. But you and I can have better by marrying someone that we can relate to on every wavelength.”

  “Oh, come on! There’s no such thing as a perfect marriage.”

  “True, but Prachi and I have a closer relationship than Dada and Mamma—a more equal partnership. You know what I mean.”

  Harish shut off the TV and threw the remote back on the coffee table. “Are you trying to say Isha is not good enough for me?”

  “I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is marrying a widow with children is not the wisest thing to do.”

  “That’s what I had thought, too . . . when I first met her. But the more I get to know her and her kids, the more I like them. I want to offer them a home and the security of having a husband and father.” He glanced at his brother across the room. “Is that so wrong?”

  Satish’s response was a sardonic grunt. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself that your intentions are entirely altruistic? I noticed the way you kept staring at Isha Tilak when she was here. You’ve fallen hard for her, man.”

  Instead of protesting, Harish threw him a sheepish look.

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “As obvious as my nose. I’ve noticed you’re not working on Saturdays and late evenings anymore. You used to claim you had no time for marriage. Now all of a sudden you’re making plenty of time to visit her frequently.”

  Harish sighed. “Do you think Mamma noticed?”

  “Mamma notices everything. I saw her looking at you and Isha with that speculative expression the other evening. She knows, but she hasn’t said anything to me—yet.”

  198 Shobhan Bantwal

  “I used to know Isha in college. Well, not really know, but I used to see her on campus. A lot of boys were interested in her.”

  “I don’t doubt that. She was the pretty, rich girl who came in a chauffeured car and stuck to her own circle of friends.” Satish snickered. “And you were definitely not part of that circle.”

  Harish glanced at his brother with raised eyebrows. “You knew her in college, too?”

  “No,” said Satish, still looking amused. “She’s too young to be my contemporary. But I know the type. There are girls like Isha in any given year.”

  “What do you mean?” Harish demanded with a scowl.

  “What I mean is they’re typically upper-class girls. Their lives are simple and predetermined: get a bachelor’s degree in some easy, low-pressure subject, acquire a rich husband, have two perfect children, and live in luxury. The most stressful thing in their daily lives is probably deciding what to wear to a party or what kind of appetizer to serve their guests.”

  “I’d say that’s a fairly accurate description,” admitted Harish grudgingly.

  “Poor boys like us look at those girls from afar, fantasize for a bit, then go about our business of studying hard and trying to make a decent living someday.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, Isha was your fantasy in those days, I guess?” Satish winked at Harish. “I can’t blame you. She’s an attractive woman.”

  Harish chuckled. “Don’t let Prachi hear you say that.”

  “Don’t let Prachi hear what?” Prachi chose to walk into the room at that very moment. She looked tired. “Are you boys discussing me behind my back?”

  “So, what did you deliver tonight? Girl or boy?” asked Satish.

  “Beautiful baby girl. Both mum and child are doing fine, thank you,�
�� she replied, then switched her gaze from one man to the other. “Well?”

  “Satish thinks Isha Tilak is an attractive woman,” said Harish, with a sly look aimed at his brother.

  Prachi sank wearily into the nearest chair and kicked off her chappals. “I happen to agree.”

  THE

  FORBIDDEN

  DAUGHTER 199

  It was Satish’s turn to smirk at his brother. “See, she agrees.

  And you thought you’d stir up trouble for me just because you happen to be in trouble.”

  Prachi stretched forward and helped herself to a handful of grapes from the bowl sitting on the coffee table. “Why is Harish in trouble?”

  “Should I tell her?” Satish glanced at Harish, clearly serious this time.

  “Go ahead. She might be more objective than either of us.”

  “Objective about what?” Prachi popped a juicy green grape into her mouth.

  “Our confirmed bachelor is finally considering marriage,”

  said Satish, lazily eyeing his wife consume grapes.

  “That’s great!” Prachi sat up, her eyes alight. “So have you asked Isha yet?”

  Satish turned to her, his brows arched. “You guessed this, too?”

  “Of course,” she answered with supreme confidence. “Women have a sixth sense about these things.”

  “They do?” both the men asked in unison.

  “Sure.” She glanced at her husband. “I’m surprised you figured it out.”

  Satish shrugged. “Even a moron like me couldn’t help but notice Harish drooling over a woman.”

  “Every night Harish managed to drop her name into the conversation,” said Prachi, wiping her damp hands on a handkerchief. “That’s when I got suspicious. But the day she came over for dinner, I knew for sure.”

  Harish shut his eyes and groaned. “Can’t a man have any secrets in this house?”

  Prachi smiled. “Not while Mamma and I are around. She knows, too.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but I heard her discussing it with Dada the other day.”

  “You were eavesdropping!” Satish feigned shock.

  She rolled her eyes. “They knew I was in the next room while they were talking.”