![]() |
Glory Sasikala |
Serialized novel, by Glory Sasikala
CHAPTER-4
it's
not my intention; of my charms i’m unaware
i'm
moon but i know not that my beauty is quite rare
Prateik made his way downstairs in a
daze and through the courtyard and through the crowd of children.
“Did you get the address?” the
taleteller called out to him.
“Yes,” he said, “Thank you very
much!” Prateik’s smile included all of them.
Then he made his way to the car where
Jahangir was waiting for him. He got into the backseat, and Jahangir set the
car in motion.
“To the hotel Sir?” Jahangir asked.
“Yes Jahangir,” he answered absently.
All thoughts of Sudhir had taken a
backseat in Prateik’s mind. So taken up was he with thoughts of the beautiful
girl whom he had just met.
“Did I just see a vision?” he
wondered, “God! What a girl! What a beautiful girl! How can someone be so beautiful
and talented and good? That’s perfection.”
He frowned, “How’s perfection possible?”
He looked out the window, but only
saw visions of Rosie. Rosie standing at the doorway, radiant. Rosie talking,
Rosie laughing…Rosie in his house….in his doorway….seated at the dining table,
in his garden, a flower among the flowers…Rosie in a swing, her hair
flying…Rosie in his arms…”
He jerked back to reality. “Good
God!” He slapped his forehead.
“Is something the matter Sir?” Jahangir
asked, “Have you forgotten something?”
“No…” Prateik said uncertainly, “I
haven’t…I don’t think so. Never mind me,” he said, smiling into the mirror.
Jahangir smiled back and drove on.
When they reached the hotel, Prateik
ordered a simple meal of phulkas and dal and vegetable to his room, and having
changed into his pyjamas, switched on the television and sat down on the bed.
But his mind was occupied and he gazed blankly at the screen, barely taking in
what he was seeing, a sad fact because it was a beautiful classic movie that
was being shown. Oddly enough, Prateik did not order any liquor. It seemed that
his thoughts had already reached a high and did not need any more intoxication.
For some time, Prateik held down the
counterarguments that his conscience was posing. It was talking incessantly.
It spoke so incessantly that it
finally won and Prateik got down to the business of serious thinking.
“Well,” he told his conscience, “I am
going to marry her no matter what you say.”
“But she’s poor!”
“So what?”
“Didn’t you hear what her Grandma
said? She is the sole supporter of her sisters. Without her financial support
how will they manage?”
“I’m not exactly a pauper, am I? She
can send them the money that they need every month. That is no problem with
me.”
“But how are you going to convince
them that you are The Man?”
Here Prateik dithered. “Relax,” he
told his conscience, “It will all work out.”
“It won’t! It won’t! There’s a
brother there remember?”
“Yes,” said Prateik, “But the
Grandmother liked me. I know she did, and I believe she rules the roost. So
I’ll go around 11 in the morning tomorrow when she is alone and talk it out
with her. I think I can win. Be optimistic yaar.”
His conscience kept a doubtful and
dissatisfied silence. It was very late when Prateik finally fell asleep.
Prateik left the hotel at 10 o’ clock,
having bathed and eaten breakfast and feeling rather fresh and optimistic. “We’re
going back to Sudhir’s place, Jahangir. I have work there.”
Jahangir opened his mouth to ask a
question, then thought the better of it and said, “Yes Sir,” and opened the
door of the car for Prateik to get in.
“I know that we were supposed to go home
today, but something has cropped up,” Prateik said, sensing his askance.
Jahangir parked the car at the same
place where he had the previous day and Prateik made his way to the courtyard.
It looked different in broad daylight. It was deserted for one thing, and
seemed dirtier for another. Prateik went up the rickety staircase. All the
doors were open this time and colourful clothes hung over the railings. He
could hear the bustle of conversation within the houses. Some of them peeped
out of curiosity. Prateik made a beeline for the last door and looked in. Ah!
The old lady was alone. He was in luck. He knocked at the door. She looked up,
and her face immediately creased into a smile.
“Come, come,” she said, “Sit down.
What has brought you here again this time?” She might have been greeting a
long-lost friend. Prateik walked in and sat down on the sofa.
“Where is everybody?” he asked.
“They’ve all gone to work. Only my
daughter-in-law and I are left at home during the day time.”
“It’s very hot outside,” said
Prateik.
“Yes, and there’s no electricity.
Daily from 10 to 2, we have no electricity. It’s very wicked really.”
There was silence after that. Then
the old lady asked, “Did you leave something behind yesterday? Is that why
you’ve come back?”
“No Grandma. Actually, I have come to
ask you a favour.”
The old lady now looked at him
intently, taking in his air of embarrassment. She said gently, “What is it son?
What is it you want?”
“Grandma, I like your granddaughter
very much. I want to marry her.”
There! It was out. There was stunned
silence. Prateik waited for hell to break loose. So he was surprised when the
old lady went off into cackles of laughter.
“You’re a fast one, aye, you are!
Rosie’s grandfather was just so. Do you know we were married within a week of
meeting each other?”
Now Prateik gave her a really hopeful
look. All of a sudden, she became serious and said, “I feel it in my bones, you
are a very nice boy, and all you say of your background is true. You have very
honest eyes. But I’m a very old woman. I have been through so much. I see more
than other people do and I feel very sad that a nice young man like you should
be a drunkard. You drink too much, do you not?”
Amazed at the lady’s observation
powers, Prateik replied, “Yes Grandma, I drink too much. But I have had no
purpose in life so far and no one to restrict me. With the right purpose and
under the right guidance…well, I promise you I won’t drink anymore. I can’t
stop at once, but I will definitely detox and gradually stop drinking. It shouldn’t
be all that hard because I only drink in the evenings.”
“Yes,” she said absently, “Yes of
course.” She grew silent. Then suddenly, “Rosie is very precious to me. She is
a jewel to be treasured. I will not give her away to anyone unworthy of her. You
understand that, don’t you?” she asked, looking severely at him.
“Grandma, I promise to look after
your granddaughter to the best of my abilities.”
“I have suffered so much because my
husband was a drunkard. We lost everything because of that. I do not want that
happening to my granddaughter, although she’s a strong-minded person like me.”
“Grandma, our father has left a lot
of property—a house and lands—to be distributed equally amongst us four
brothers. My portion is a large one. And I don’t gamble. My only vice is that I
drink, and I promise I will take all measures to stop drinking. What more can I
say? And yes, Rosie can send in money to you to meet the expenses of her two
sisters and you. I don’t want anything from you. It’s just that I… like Rosie… very
much. I haven’t felt this way about anyone… ever.”
He was blushing, and he red with
embarrassment. He felt very vulnerable too, his deepest emotions in display.
“Please think my offer over.”
The old lady listened to him. Then
she said, “Come tomorrow morning and meet my grandson. Come at 8 o’clock. Don’t
come at this hour hoping to charm an old lady off the tree,” she cackled.
Prateik grinned sheepishly. “Whatever the answer, I promise you that both my
grandchildren will treat you with due courtesy. Rest assured of that.”
Having to be content with that answer, Prateik took his leave.
Having to be content with that answer, Prateik took his leave.
[To be continued ...]
No comments:
Post a Comment
We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. рдк्рд░рдХाрд╢िрдд рд░рдЪрдиा рд╕े рд╕рдо्рдмंрдзिрдд рд╢ाрд▓ीрди рд╕рдо्рд╡ाрдж рдХा рд╕्рд╡ाрдЧрдд рд╣ै।