Original Konkani Story: Kukma Adhar
Author: Hema Naik
Translator: Akshata Bhatt
As the flour mill in front closed for the day, she picked up all the items spread across a gunny bag on the ground for sale – combs, powder-tins, necklaces – and put them in the bag, adjusted her saree and called out to her son who was playing with a puppy on the other side,
“Baablya, come let’s head home. The sun has already set.”
“Wait, gé. I’ll get at least two more.”
“No, re. Who will want to polish their boots at this time of the evening?”
But he didn’t budge from his seat. And indeed, after a while, a suited and booted gentleman came and stood before him. Baablo polished his boots and tossed the money given by him in his pocket. He was happy that he had been right.
“Did you see, bai? Now let us go home.” He put all his things in the box and stood up with it. Clasping her bag, she also started walking along. Baablo was prattling on the way telling her many of his own tales. But nothing of what he said went in her head. Her mind was occupied in calculating the day’s earnings. They reached their usual spot. It was their routine to sit on a stone below the mango tree and count the money earned that day. They both sat. From the pockets of his pants, which had been held in one piece by stitching patches of cloth together, Baablo poured out five and ten paisa coins. The coins fell with a sharp clink. She poured the change from the pouch tucked at her waist, into it.
“It’s more than usual today, no go bai?” said Baablo and started counting the money. Baablo is good with calculation. He has just completed 10 years of age and moved into 11. Passed the fourth standard and gone into the fifth. Due to the hassles of day-to-day living, he had missed the first rank. But he hadn’t failed to secure 100/100 marks in mathematics. She would always feel proud of his proficiency in calculation.
“Bai, what are you thinking? Look, we made five rupees today. Yesterday, we made only four rupees. Tomorrow we’ll make ten. Then twenty, then hundred. Isn’t it, bai?”
Hearing these words, she felt sorry for his childlike innocence. Putting all the money back into the pouch, she tucked it at her waist saying, “Let’s go” and began walking on.
She asked Baablo to calculate,
“One paddy rice, a quarter pound of tea powder and sugar, and a bottle of kerosene, how much will all this cost?”
Baablo calculated in his mind and replied at once, “Four rupees and twelve annas”.
If so, then we’ll take only half a bottle of kerosene. We must keep one rupee aside for Bappa. Now how much will it be?
“Four rupees and four annas”.
“We’ll have to reduce more.”
“It’s fine, bai. The sky won’t collapse if Bappa gets four annas less.”
Dodging the grocer from whom she already had purchases on credit, she moved to another shop. Perhaps the price of some item had fallen. The grocer charged only four rupees altogether. Silently thanking the grocer in their minds, they moved on. Both her younger sons, who were playing in the mud, came running and hugged her. Just then she remembered that Baablo had no footwear for school. The slippers which he had were absolutely worn out. She was overcome with pity and quietly ran her fingers through Baablo’s hair. It had been three months since his hair had been cut. In the whole struggle of making both ends meet, it wasn’t possible to attend to other needs. She said to him,
“Baab, you don’t have slippers.”
“Let it be, bai. When we make ten rupees tomorrow, we’ll buy. Tomorrow I will not sit at my usual place. I’ll sit near the station. There I get
many customers.”
She felt proud of his maturity. “But this wretched husband of mine has ruined everything. To that drunkard, his wife and children mean nothing beside liquor,” she went inside enraged by the very thought of her husband.
Having lit the fire in the hearth, she kept the budkulo, with some kanji rice to boil. There was, as yet, no sign of her husband.
“He’ll come, at his leisure, to thrash me when the children are asleep.” She shuddered. The welts of the previous day’s beatings were still on her back. Tears filled her eyes. She wiped the mhannayo, the low wooden seats, with the end of her pallu and placed them for her children to sit.
As the boiling porridge began to bubble over, she pinched a rice grain hard between her fingers to see if it was done. “However much it’s cooked is enough” she muttered and taking the pot off the fire, covered it with a plate. She pulled back the firewood and doused the cinders by splashing water over them. Then, first and foremost, she strained the rice-grains from the bottom of the gruel and kept them aside for her husband. Then she served the plain gruel to all three children and handed them a slice of raw mango for taste.
“Fasting has become a routine for me now. I have become used to tolerating hunger” she sighed helplessly.
Spreading a ragged mat and a tattered quilt, she put the children to bed. They fell fast asleep as soon as they touched the ground.
A chill had spread everywhere. The surrounding darkness began to frighten her. She was anxious that her husband had not returned home yet. She opened the window and
stood there.
It was a full moon night. The moonlight glimmered in the night sky. As the snow-white blanket of moonlight spread over the land, the dark night had acquired quite an
elegant charm.
But she was not in the state of admiring the beauty of nature around her. Such was the never-ending plight of her miserable life!
“Be it a full moon or a new moon, the darkness in my house will stay as it is. The sun will rise and set, but the rays of its light will never lighten up my home.” She stood in that state for almost ten to fifteen minutes. Just then, Baablo turned over in his sleep and asked, “Bai, hasn’t bappa come yet?”
“No re, he hasn’t. I am just worried! You sleep.” She came and sat beside him. On seeing the miserable condition of her three children, she felt
like crying.
“Hope nothing bad has happened to him!”
A sudden tremor ran through her heart at the thought of her husband. For a moment she felt like waking Baablo up and sending him to look for his father. But she couldn’t bring herself to wake him up. “The poor boy is fast asleep. He is so tired after working the whole day!” She felt very sorry for him. Baablo is not even twelve yet and still he has to work for the sake of money. He cannot even study properly although he loves to.
“Cursed is this wretched life. This husband of mine is just a namesake! Only for the sake of this dot of vermillion on my forehead! He cannot even look after his children. Whatever money he gets, he squanders off on liquor. Snatches away our earnings too. Stone-hearted wretch! Even at this very moment, he must have fallen drunk somewhere”. She felt a surge of anger at her husband.
“Now he will come and thrash me.”
Sitting there, she started to doze off. She could never sleep properly; worries always weighed on her. “My very spirit has given up. I am fed up with this life.” Just as she was resting her head on the pillow, her six-year old son Manu fretted in his sleep. She moved closer to him and patting him to sleep, went and stood near the window again. The dogs kept barking for no apparent reason. She spotted someone at a distance. “Is it my husband?” She narrowed her eyes and looked closely. But it was Shanu. She called out to him.
“Shanu, did you see Baablya’s bappa?” He came nearer.
“Hasn’t bappa come yet? I saw him quite a while ago… He was at Francis’ tavern.”
“I am just a bit worried. If he drinks too much, he may fall somewhere.”
“You sleep, gé. He will come in the morning when he gets sober.” Saying so, he left. She didn’t know what to do. She felt she should rather not have a husband than have one like this. Her mind screamed – “Why are you holding on to a husband like this? If he comes home tomorrow, there is no need to let him into the house. Let him get lost with his cursed face.”
She made up her mind. “Tomorrow onwards I will not listen to anything my husband says. If he comes to thrash me, I will not hold back. I have the strength to bring up my children. I will send Baablo to school. I will see that he becomes someone worthwhile. He is my beloved son!”
She went near Baablo and caressed him affectionately. He woke up and asked anxiously, “Bai, are you still awake? Hasn’t bappa come yet? Should I go and look for him?”
She had hardened her mind. She said in anger, “No need. He will come if he wants to. That drunkard must have fallen in a ditch somewhere. Let that wretch go to hell.”
Baablo kept staring at her face, aghast. He was stunned that his mother, who would worriedly send him to search for his father whenever he was late, was uttering such words tonight.
“Bai, what are you saying?”
“Yes bab! How much can we tolerate? Let him go to hell! I have the strength to bring you all up. I am not afraid.”
The rooster’s crow was heard. It was morning. The full moon night was over. Baablo stood up.
“Bai, I think that is bappa. Shanu has caught hold of him and is bringing him along. Look, there he is, tottering.” She clenched her teeth.
“Let him come. His intoxication doesn’t seem to have worn off yet!”
Shanu left him near the house and went. He came near the door stomping his feet. She rose, walked inside and picking the thick wooden-stick kept in the corner, tucked-in her pallu and stood in the entrance of the
front room.
“Now let’s see who has more strength.” She seemed almost to be in a trance. Baablo stood looking at his parents stunned with disbelief.
