The Pearl Palanquin (10)
“ Yes! Quickly. ” “ When you reside in your official bungalow as the District Collector, if I visit you, will your servants drive me out or will you come out and receive me? ” “ They won’t stop you. I shall certainly receive you. ” “ Murali! How dare your servants stop our tufted grandfather? ” Said Anuradha and laughed. Raghavaiah was very much pleased at her words. He tightened the loosening tuft with his muddy fingers proudly and planted the mango sapling. “ If you water this sapling regularly the tree will yield fruits in its third year itself. The fruit is very good for pickle. The jackfruits will grow so big that you cannot lift them single-handed. ” “ When will these trees grow and when do we enjoy their fruits? ” asked Murali. “ That is the difference between your generation and ours. We could wait. You want instant result. We feel happy if our children or grand children eat them. Once your mother had no flowers for her worship. Now she has plenty of different varities to adorn her gods and goddesses for her worship. All the flower plants in your front yard were planted by me. ” “ This is the meaning of effort. You may not relish my words and thoughts. You go to your grandfather’s village so many times. Each time you go, you drink the cocoanut water and throw the cocoanut away without a thought. Did you ever wonder who planted the cocoanut tree? Okay. All this is the story of the previous generation, my dear young District Collector! ” Without stopping for an answer he continued his digging. After finishing digging, planting and watering the saplings, Raghavaiah washed his feet and hands and came into the verandah. “ Annapurna! Now give me a cup of coffee, ” he said wiping the sweat from his forehead and face. “ Grandfather! What you say is good. But this is not our own house. If the owner asks us to vacate we have to leave. Then what will happen to these plants? ” Asked Murali. “ No! No! Not like that at all. You must buy this house. As soon as you settle down in your new job you must buy this house. With that confidence I planted these saplings. When these trees grow, you, your wife and your children should enjoy the fruits, I may not be alive then but my spirit will feel happy. ” “ How foolish you are grandfather! For the sake of these saplings you want us to buy this house spending forty thousand rupees. If we had that much money we would not be living like this. Okay! Drink your coffee ” said Murali. “ Murali! What is that bandage on your forehead? ” Asked Raghavaiah. Murali felt the plaster with his fingers. His mind rushed back to the pearl palanquin. He began to see in his mind’s eye the beautiful scene of his riding in it with his bride sitting opposite, the nadaswaram music filling the air. He was transported into a dream world. Raghavaiah waited for a reply from Murali. ‘ Young people of this generation behave like this. They start thinking and stop talking or they keep talking and stop thinking ’ he thought to himself. “ Murali! It is getting late. Why go to Sunanda’s house now? You can go in the evening ” said his mother. Raghavaiah who went in started talking to Annapurna. Murali could hear Raghavaiah referring to Kameswari frequently whispering and lowering his voice every now and then. Anu started reading a book. ‘ Why was Anu growing silent these days? ’ Thought Murali. 20 Murali began to drive his scooter with no destination in mind, as was his habit. It was evening and he was driving fast. An old man came running across the road asking Murali to stop. Murali asked him what the matter was. “ The young lady of our house wants you to meet her, ” said the old man. “ Me! The young lady of your house! Who is that young lady? ” Asked Murali in surprise. The old man pointed his finger at a young woman standing on the terrace of a house. It was Neeraja. She smiled at Murali and signaled him to go over to her house. Murali’s heart began to beat fast. So that was Neeraja’s house. He went that way many times but did not know that she lived there. Any way why did Neeraja call him? He went in as the servant held the gate open. Though small, it was a beautiful house. Crotons and flower plants were arranged neatly by the wall. Neeraja met him at the portico folding her hands and said, “ Please come in. ” Neeraja wore a rose coloured printed voil saree and a blouse of the same colour. She had folded her plait in the middle and tied it with a ribbon. Though she did not wear jewels and was of medium complexion she looked beautiful. She had an attractive figure and face and looked sprightly and pretty. “ Please be seated. I shall be backing soon ” she said and went in. Murali began to observe closely the drawing hall. The doorways and windows had beautiful looking curtains. On the opposite wall there was a photograph of a man with bushy mustache. There were portraits of Gandhi, Nehru, Subhas Chandra Bose and Indira Gandhi on the walls. Also those of some army personnel. One of them was Manekshaw’s. The huge wall clock struck five. There were three bookshelves along a wall full of books. Murali had no girl friends. Apart from his mother and sister he was intimate only with Sunanda. He generally kept distance from Indira. Mural sat thinking. The house was silent but for the ticking of the wall clock. “ You ride this way every evening. Don’t you? ” Said Neeraja as she sat in the sofa opposite Murali. “ Not every evening. Now and then. ” “ I saw you yesterday. I put my servant to day to watch your arrival. But he was afraid to stop you as you were riding fast as if riding the divine horse Panchakalyani ” said Neeraja smiling. She observed Murali keenly as she talked. Murali also was doing the same. The servant brought tea and biscuits. Neeraja handed Murali the tray. “ This is unexpected hospitality. Is there no one in the house? ” Asked Murali as he extended his hand and took the plate with the biscuits. “ Why not? There are. The servant Samulu, the servant girl Rangi, the cook and….” “ And? ” “ And myself and of course, my grandfather. ” “ Where is he? ” “ He has gone to the club. He leaves at quarter to five and returns as the clock strikes nine. The clock may run fast or slow but never grandfather. I set the time in my wristwatch following his movements. ” As Neeraja handed him the teacup he asked: “ Your parents? ” “ I am a very unfortunate person. My mother passed away when I was ten. My father died in the war some time age. My grandfather retired from the army. ” Neeraja’s voice went hoarse. Murali felt sorry for her. “ Sorry! I seem to have pained you. ” “ No! No! Don’t say so. It is all right ” said Neeraja wiping her eyes with her kerchief. “ Those who lose their parents are the most unfortunate ones in this world, ” she said, her voice quivering. “ Did you make the tea? It is very tasty ” said Murali changing the topic. “ Thanks. All the friends of my grandfather say it. They are all retired people. They particularly ask me to make tea. When they are here, they behave like children and are very noisy. Come to tea on Sunday. You can meet them. Indeed my grandfather wanted to invite you for tea. I told him I would invite you. He said ‘okay’. Don’t forget to come. ” Murali took leave of her and went home. Raghavaiah was snoring loudly in his sleep on the cot. On seeing Raghavaiah Murali remembered the saplings planted in the morning. The saplings were gently swaying in the breeze. “ Simple man, this grandfather ” thought Murali as the gentle breeze carrassed the tender saplings. 21 It was Sunday. Murali was trying hard to remember going to tea at Neeraja’s house. He felt as if the hour, minute and second hands of the wall clock were not moving at all, as if time stood still. “ Oh God! It is only twelve O’clock! ” He said to himself as he held a novel in his hands. He was not able to keep track of the events in the narration. His tuft headed grandfather; Raghavaiah was talking to his mother in the verandah. He heard his name being mentioned often by the old man. So he stopped reading the novel and listened to the conversation. “ Dear Annapurna! Please keep these two Postal Savings Bank Accounts with you. They should be presented to Anu and Murali at the time of their marriages. I love them both equally. That is why I want to give them each five hundred rupees. If I am alive at the time of their marriage I shall certainly be with you here. If I don’t have the luck of being present at their marriage, you should give the books to them. Don’t tell abut this to them now. They may laugh at me. ” “ I shall get along. If I have the fortune to partake the wedding dinner I shall come. Or else… you see, I am growing old and weak. I don’t have the energy to go round the courts. If I don’t have court work I need not come to the town. ” “ I may be here after fifteen days to attend to a minor case. That will be the end of it. By the way, when Murali gets posting orders drop a line to me. I have been praying to God that Murali should become a Collector and that I should see him occupying the Collector’s chair. ” Does his miserly tuft headed grandfather have so many good ideas! The attitudes and the life styles of the older generation are peculiar. They don’t hesitate to spend hundreds and thousands. Raghavaiah was not ashamed to wear an old dhoti, or torn and patched shirt. He didn’t mind if he did not possess a pair of chapplas. Murali wondered at his grandfather’s deep thinking and forethought. “ Hey! Murali! I thought you were sleeping! Okay, I shall keep going. By the way, don’t forget to drop a card. I am offering a special pooja to Lord Jambunath on Monday that you should get the orders. ” So saying Raghavaiah climbed down the steps slowly. Murali felt a great love and a sort of sympathy for this tuft headed grandfather. Murali quickly changed his dress and took the scooter out and drove fast and stopped by the side of his grandfather. The old man almost lost his balance as he tried to avoid being hit by a senseless scooterist, as he imagined. “ Grandfather! Come! I shall drop you at the bus station ” said Murali laughing. “ No! No! ” Said the old man. “ Not I. Me on the scooter! Not at all! My head will reel and I will fall! ” “ I will drive slowly. ” “ I am terribly afraid of scooters. Any moment they may bend to a side and fall. If you are the driver, I needn’t say how it would be! You drive on the clouds thoughtlessly.” “ No! I won’t drive fast. I shall go very slow ” laughed Murali. “ I shall sit on your scooter if you drive it like a bullock cart. ” “ Yes, ” said Murali and took the bag, which looked like a sack. Raghavaiah sat holding the shoulders of Murali with a strong grip. Passers by laughed at Murali driving the scooter very slowly with the old man sitting bolt up right holding firmly Murali’s shoulders. Murali did not get upset at what he did. Raghavaiah was very pleased and happy that Murali offered to drop him at the bus station on his scooter. As Raghavaiah got into the bus he said loudly “ Look here! Be a Collector soon! Marry a beautiful and sensible girl without delay. Keep up the honour of your family name! Keep a careful eye on that old woman, your grand aunty, Kameswari. She is an old viper. She bites at an opportune time. She has been talking ill of you of late…” “ What sort of talk? ” Asked Murali a little upset. “ Why all those details now! The world does not know her as I know her. A few parents who wanted alliance with you went back…” The bus moved off. The old man waved his hand till the bus took an abrupt turn. On his way back Murali began to think of his grandfather’s words about Kameswari. ‘ What harm can she do to me? ’ Foolish woman’s he thought to himself as he drove home. He relaxed for some time on the cot. Then he washed his face twice. He changed four pairs of dresses, looked at himself in the full-length mirror and combed his hair half a dozen times. ‘ This outfit is nice ’ he thought and looked at the wall clock. It was only four O’clock. He chuckled in disgust. He took out the newspaper and turned the pages. He didn’t feel like reading through the columns. He got up and took his scooter out. As he neared Neeraja’s house he looked at his wristwatch. It was only half past four. It wouldn’t be nice if he went there so much in advance. Neeraja wanted him to be at her house at five. He turned the scooter and took another road and kept driving till it was nearly five O’clock. By five he reached her house. The servant was not at the gate. Murali opened the gate and went in. He felt a little bit uneasy. He did not know what kind of a person Neeraja’s grandfather was. Would he receive hem well? Perhaps he should not have gone though Neeraja invited him for tea. Why did he not get this thought earlier? He heard voices in the hall inside. He stood there listening “ Neeru! Bring me first some savory. Then tea. By the by, your guest has not yet turned up. ” “ Neeraja! Did you ask him whether he has interest in chess? ” “ Why? Do you want to make your moves there with him whenever you get angry with me? ” “ What does Neeraja Know? Listen. I will tell you. He is going to be the Collector shortly. He won’t stay here for long. You cannot threaten me like that. You cannot avoid playing chess with me. ” “ Have you already acquired all the details about him, Chalapathi? ” “ I am the grandfather of a girl. I can’t sit and close my eyes. He is the only son of lawyer Narayana Rao. Muralidhar, B.A…” “ I will tell the rest. L.L.B. Took the I.A.S. interview. Okay? He is a smart guy. Is he not? ” “ How do you know? ” “ I would tell all about him by looking at your face! Neeraja! I am very hungry. ” “ Neeraja! Your guest’s whereabouts are not yet known. Please send Samulu the servant to find whether he is on his way here. ” “ Grandpa! It is just five! He will be coming…” “ Grandpa! He has come! Here he is! ” Shouted Neeraja. Neeraja wore a violet coloured Venkatagiri silk saree with a matching blouse. She wore a simple chain and left her plait of hair free in the middle without tying it with a ribbon. She sported pearl eardrops and adorned her hair with a rose with two leaves. “ Ah! Please come in. My grandpa and his friends are eagerly awaiting your arrival ” said Neeraja going to him. Murali found in her eyes happiness and a feeling of satisfaction. “ Oh! I forgot! Namaste! ” She said smiling. “ Namaste ” he returned her greeting. “ This is my grandfather, Chalapathi Rao ” “ Namaskaram ” said Murali.
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