The Scent of Mogra and Other Stories

by Aparna Kaji Shah

  In her last years, Megha detached herself from her life with Uday. The joys and sorrows of her life now were focused on her daughter and her family. Her nephew, occasionally, came to her for advice. India was on the verge of Independence from the British, and then the princely states would become a part of the Republic of India. Yamini’s husband had died prematurely in an accident, and she and her children were living in Megha’s part of the palace, with the maharajah’s permission. After Independence, he wanted to turn his palace into a hotel. He would keep a small section for himself, but what about Megha, Yamini, and her children? They would have to find an apartment close to the children’s school. Yamini would find work as a teacher. And Megha would live out her days in the company of her daughter and grandchildren, surrounded by love and the warmth of family.

  I’m floating somewhere like a feather. I’m not where the incense was burning and where the fragrance of mogra filled the air. I’m in a different place, and a soft breeze is pushing me along, though I don’t have any sense of movement. It seems like I’ve been here forever, but no, it’s not forever; I’m born again.

  ***

  A woman with grey hair, wearing a white-and-red kurta, approaches the stage on which I’m seated and climbs up. I have just finished talking to a room full of about sixty people. The perfume from the strands of mogra flowers that decorate the stage has intensified. I’m hot, but I feel exhilarated by the energy of the people who are now leaving; hopefully, more at peace after listening to a talk on the Hindu scriptures and a short meditation session. She covers her head with a red dupatta. Who is this? I know this lady. Maybe, she has come to my talks before. She bows down with folded hands before me. I’m not thirty yet, and I feel uncomfortable when older people do that. She looks up into my eyes and smiles. She says, “Mataji” (mother, that’s what I’m called by my “followers” though I would have preferred it if they called me by my name, Sunanda), “I really was inspired by your talk. I would like a mantra from you that I could chant every day and whenever I’m disturbed.”

  There is something about her … she is at least seventy-five…. I can’t speak for a few long moments, but just stare into her eyes. Whose voice is this? Why does it sound so familiar? And then she says again, “Mataji, so sorry to disturb you.”

  “Oh no, you are not disturbing me. It’s just that I thought I had met you before. Yes, I’ll give you the mantra that will bring peace into your life and to everyone close to you. Will you come to the lecture next week? I will give it to you then.”

  She says, “This is my first time here. And, yes, I’ll be here next week.” She hesitates, then adds, “You know, I feel that I know you too. You remind me of my mother, though you are so young. My mother passed on many, many years ago, of course.”

  With hands folded together in a namaste, she bows to me once again, and moves away to make place for the next person in line waiting to see me. I know who she is now. My eyes follow Tina until she reaches the door. Her red dupatta slips down the back of her head, revealing shoulder-length hair gleaming silver in the brightly illumined hall. She takes her coat from the rack and buttons it up to her chin. She quickens her pace, smiling, as she thinks of meeting her grandchildren soon, for dinner. Then she walks out into a chilly fall evening in Toronto.

  No Other Way

  “I went to meet a friend who has just had a baby.” Mira hastily covered her head with her sari pallu. Of course, she couldn’t tell Raj that she had gone to see her Roma friend Shanti, in the Dom encampment, and her new born baby, Syeira.

  “I don’t care. You should be home when I’m home.” He shoved her aside and stalked out of the room.

  Mira lay down with her eyes closed, trying to calm her heaving chest. As her breathing slowed, she tried to grasp what was happening. She thought about what a family friend had told her soon after their wedding: Raj had been a sickly boy who was teased by his classmates. Maybe, as Shanti had said, his bullying was only a cover up. But she realized now that it had become a part of his character.

  The hair on the back of Mira’s neck stood on end as she felt again the sting of Raj’s slap on her cheek when she had tried to talk to him about his coming home drunk and as she heard in her head echoes of his gruffness every time he spoke with her.

  Something within her snapped. The blood pounded against her temples making them throb. She sat up and said aloud, “That’s it, I’m leaving. I won’t take this anymore.”

  Mira had told Shanti and her husband, Kailash, that life at her in-law’s place was becoming intolerable. Her friends were worried for her, especially since they would soon be leaving Jaisalmer to travel to Persia. It was then that they suggested she could run away with them. However, Kailash had to get permission from the tribe elders, and Mira had to be sure that she could bear the hardship of the travelling Dom, and that probably, she would never be able to return to Jaisalmer. How could she, who had grown up in luxury, live with the poor nomads, sleep on the hard wagon floor, and eat dry roti with nothing more than chillies and onion?

  Now Mira paced up and down the room, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms. How can I leave my parents? How can I leave my home? she thought. Even if the elders agree to my going with them, I can’t put Shanti and Kailash through this.

  Mira had told her parents before the marriage was finalized that she did not like what little she had seen of Raj. He was thirty and she only fifteen; he looked grumpy, had bloodshot eyes, and a pot belly. But her parents had assured her that it was a good family, and that Raj’s parents had approved of her. In any case, she had no say in any decisions about her own life.

  If only I had been born in another time, or in a different country where girls are more educated, can work, and choose who they want to marry. Like some of the English women I’ve seen. Mira also remembered the stories that the tutor at her parents’ home had brought for her to read; the story about a girl called Indulekha who fell in love with her cousin, and that of Yamuna, a widow, who ran away from her father-in-law’s house and got married again. These heroines had a lot of courage and didn’t care about what people thought of them. Could she be like them?

  There was a soft knock before Gulab came in with a cup of tea. Her hands were still black from the coal sigadi. She had heard Raj shouting and walking out, and rushed in to comfort Mira as soon as she could. She felt protective towards her young mistress. When Gulab patted her and said, “Drink this, you’ll feel better,” Mira broke down. In between her sobs, she told her everything. After all, Gulab had looked after her since she was a baby, and had come with her to her husband’s house when she got married.

  Alarmed by Mira’s plan of running away with the Dom, she said, “You will put yourself and them into danger. You must think properly before you take such a drastic step. But if they do agree to let you go with them, I will help you in every way I can.” Gulab’s green glass bangles tinkled when she pointed to herself. She said, “I too will leave this house once you’re gone.”

  The next day, Mira visited her parents. Her mother said, “Beti, how are you? We were wondering why we haven’t seen you for several weeks. Raj must keep you busy. I’m sure you feel settled now that you are more used to one another.”

  Before she could reply, her father hobbled in with his walking stick. He said, “Raj came to my office today for some business. He said that you are well and happy.”

  “Liar,” Mira muttered under her breath. To her father she said, “We’re fine. But how is your knee? It still seems to be bothering you.” She left quickly after that. She could not bear to be questioned about her life with Raj. Though she had been married to him for only a few months, it seemed much longer. She felt satisfied that though her parents were aging, they were in good spirits and were well looked after.

  If she missed this opportunity to leave, she would be stuck with Raj forever. Am I being brave or foolhardy? she wondered. Once I leave, there is no turning b
ack. And where would I go even if I could return?

  She loved and trusted Shanti and Kailash, though she had met them barely two years ago. She was walking past the encampment close to her parents’ house when a girl, about the same age as her, had stopped her to ask for directions to the Jaisalmer market. The Dom group had recently arrived in the city. Mira had been taken with Shanti’s vivacious dark eyes, and the friendship between the two had developed quickly. Of course, Mira’s parents did not know anything about this; they would have frowned upon their daughter befriending a poor, lowly Dom girl. Subsequently, she had met Kailash, and had thought how lucky Shanti was to have such a man.

  If she went with them, she was sure they would care for her, whatever happened. But she couldn’t live with them forever. The tribe would never allow her to stay. And how would she escape? She was crazy to even think about it. She didn’t know of anyone who had run away, let alone a woman. And, running away with some tribals? They would send out a search party when she did not come home.

  Soon after her wedding, she had told her parents about Raj’s drinking and his beatings, but they had only said that things would get better once Raj was used to being married. In any case, she had to adjust. Raj’s family was well-regarded and it was her duty to preserve the family honour; both his and theirs.

  Should she talk to her parents again? Should she ask them to take her back? They wouldn’t do that. To take a married daughter back would be unthinkable for them. She was angry with her parents, but when she was calmer, she realized that these were the customs they had grown up with. They only wanted her happiness and knew no other way. But, she wasn’t happy.

  She must be brave and leave, or she would surely die in this house. Her heart was hammering against her chest as if it would burst. She decided to tell Shanti and Kailash that her mind was made up if they were willing to take the risk. Then, they would think of a plan together.

  ***

  The next evening Mira slipped out to the encampment to meet Shanti and Kailash. She found them in their wagon, and told them of her decision.

  “You so brave,” Shanti said and hugged Mira, while Kailash stood by the door. Then she held Mira at arm’s length, looked at her face, and deep into her eyes. She said, “Mira, ‘ave you thought about this carefully?”

  Mira nodded.

  Shanti said again, “You sure you can do this? Leave your parents, leave Jaisalmer, for ever?”

  When Mira nodded again, she saw that Shanti’s eyes were shining with wonder and admiration. “I don’t know if this is courage or cowardice,” Mira said. “I can’t fight Raj and his family, and so I must run away. And just think of what I will make my parents go through. I feel terrible, but if I don’t go with you, I may never get another chance to change my life.”

  The faraway look in her eyes was replaced by one that searched her friends’ faces. “But I’m only thinking about myself,” she said. “Have you spoken to the others? And thought about the danger?”

  Shanti sat down on the quilt, and Kailash ran his fingers through his long thick hair. He said, “Yes, it’ll be dangerous. You with us. We’ll ‘ave to plan everything, so that you aren’t caught when we leave Jaisalmer. And so we aren’t caught. We did talk to the elders last night. They said no right away. But then Shanti told ‘em about your life, your problems. So now they ‘ave changed. But they worry about what ‘ould happen to us … if you’re caught.”

  He paused to look down at his bare feet. Then smiling at Mira, he said, “You ‘ave done magic on ‘em. I was surprised. Our people, very suspicious. But the elders, the women, talk about how often you come to visit us before marriage. You didn’t look down on us like those … horrible … mean people. You help when Shanti was expecting; she couldn’t do all the chores. And you help when older women couldn’t carry heavy tubs of water, hang out clothes to dry. Women want to help you now. And I’ve promised the men that we’ll ‘ave good plan.”

  Kailash moved away from the wagon door, and stood by the window. Mira was trembling and sat down on the quilt next to Shanti. She looked at Syeira, now three weeks old, asleep on her mother’s lap. The elders had agreed, and so now she could run away, she thought. Her heart fluttered, unsure of whether to sink in fear, or lift with relief. She couldn’t stop twisting the diamond ring around her index finger. She told herself, I must get it tightened before I leave.

  Finally, she asked, “But what will your families think?”

  “That long time away. Who knows what’ll happen? Now …then? We’ll meet our families only when we reach Persia,” Shanti said. Their families, with the rest of the clan, were already on their way, and had left Kailash and Shanti to help the elderly prepare for the long journey.

  Kailash said, “Okay, the elders tell me … sometimes, we ‘ave outside people. They remember children living with ‘em … for months. They remember a man tagging along till one day he go away.”

  He looked out of the window at the old men sitting down for an after-dinner smoke. He then sat down on the floor across from Shanti and Mira. He said, “You ‘ave made difficult decision to leave. No house, no home. It’ll be hard for you. We move place to place. Only simple food, only this wagon. But look like your mind made up. I’ll tell the elders. They want to know how you escape. Our families … that’ll be after many months.”

  With tears in her eyes Mira looked at Shanti by her side, and then at Kailash. She swallowed hard. “You will be my family from now on, and I will do my best to become a part of your community. I may not understand everything, I may not do everything right, but I will always be grateful to you for sheltering me.” She paused to wipe her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “The plan … the e-escape … if I’m found out before we leave the city limits, my life is finished. I’ve heard that the guards often stop the Dom wagons, and search them for stolen goods, and even stolen children. If I’m brought back … God help me … R-Raj would beat me, and … and lock me up forever. I would never be allowed to meet anyone again. And I can’t even imagine what they would do to you and your group.”

  “Only way is to make you like … us,” Kailash said.

  “Yes,” Shanti agreed. “I’ll give you skirt, blouse and scarf. Don’t wear gold necklace and diamond earrings. Just beads and silver trinkets.”

  “But what if they search our wagon and ask who I am?” Mira said.

  “We tell ‘em that you my sister. Your husband left early with others. You stay behind because you sick. That okay?” said Shanti.

  “I’ll have to darken my skin somehow, to pass off as your sister,” Mira said.

  “You two decide all details. We leaving in two weeks. Oh, I better finish work on ol’ Shandar’s wagon. Also, I must round up all men. Tell ‘em this plan.” Kailash left. His anxiety was palpable. Mira knew that her decision to go with them had more than doubled the burden he was carrying.

  “Bring everything. You sell on the way. You can wear your saris when we far away. No one recognize you. I learn to wear sari too,” Shanti giggled, her hand covering her mouth. “You wear my ghaghara till then.”

  Mira said, “I will have to do that, or else I will look different.”

  Eyeing Mira’s bust and arms, Shanti said, “I open up few blouses, so they fit you. Mira, we be together … we have so much time to talk. But I scared … be sure you not caught,” Shanti sighed loudly, her arms across her chest, hugging herself.

  Mira spent many sleepless nights thinking about what she was about to do. She imagined her father dying of shock, of herself shrieking when she was shut up in a tiny room, never to be let out again. When she did doze off fitfully, she dreamt that she was wandering about a wasteland, alone and lost. Then she woke up with a start, and had to suppress a scream rising to her throat. Her relatives and friends saw the dark circles under her eyes and smiled. They said, “So Raj is keeping you awake at night. When are you going to give us the good new
s?” She learned not to answer this, but to smile and look away.

  When there was less than a week to go before her escape, Mira was calm. She was happier than she had ever been since her marriage. She no longer cared about Raj’s behaviour. Her parents were lulled into thinking that she had finally settled down. She spent time playing with her ten-year-old brother. She had to hide her tears from him when it dawned on her that she would never see him grow up. He looked up to her. What would he think of his Didi when he understood what she had done?

  Gulab promised to get her an herbal powder to darken her skin. She would cover up for her until the evening, by which time the wagons should be outside the city walls. Mira gave Gulab a gold bangle to thank her for all she had done for her ever since she was a baby, and for her friendship and help during these last miserable months. She packed her jewellery in several pouches for easier safe-keeping. She needed to take everything she had, to sell for cash. Her eyes fell upon the tiny diamond studs she had worn as a toddler. They shone like new in their red velvet box, and they would be perfect for Syeira after a few months.

  It was at this time when Mira’s mind was firm about her decision, when the plan was in place, and she was getting ready to leave, that she felt a tug at her heart; a yearning for love and romance that she had not experienced in her brief marriage. She thought about the sweet romance between Kailash and Shanti, and their love for Syeira. She felt a maternal stirring within her, and she realized that she cared deeply for their child.

  At that moment, she was struck by the possibility that there could be a new life growing within her. She felt weak at the knees and sank down on her bed, her hand on her stomach. She had submitted to Raj’s lust countless times, for that was all it was, without a shred of affection. If she was pregnant, how would she support a child, while living with the Dom? How would she feel towards it? But, she consoled herself, it was only a possibility, and she wasn’t going to complicate her life further by thinking about it for now. She had to push the thought away and just focus on her escape.