The Invincible Moonsheen – Part-53 (Telugu Original “Venutiragani Vennela” by Dr K.Geeta)

The Invincible Moonsheen

Part – 53

(Telugu Original “Venutiragani Vennela” by Dr K.Geeta)

English Translation: V.Vijaya Kumar

(The previous story briefed)

(Sameera comes to America to meet Udayini, her mother’s friend who runs “Sahaya,” an organisation that helps women. Sameera, who is four months pregnant, wants a divorce and explains the circumstances that led to this. Udayini tells Sameera that she will share the story of “Tanmayi,” and asks her to think things over after listening to it.
Tanmayi and Shekhar meet at a relative’s wedding and get married with the consent of their elders. However, Shekhar’s true colours start showing from the very moment they get married. In the first year itself, they had a baby boy. Despite facing hardships with Shekhar, Tanmayi passes her M.A. from university and enrolls in a Ph.D. After fighting with Shekhar for many days, Tanmayi finally separates from him. She gets a job as a lecturer near Hyderabad. Unexpectedly, her childhood friend Prabhu crosses paths with her again and brings a marriage proposal. Tanmayi sets a condition of a one-year waiting period, during which they must not meet each other.)

***

Ever since Prabhu firmly said they should get married, the dilemma of “whether all this is good or not” began to grow day by day in Tanmayi’s mind. She looked at the face of her son, who was fast asleep next to her. Because of this marriage, it wasn’t just her; his future too needed to be comfortable. Was that even possible?

Her head felt like it would burst with these thoughts. Just as Siddhartha had said, “When you cannot take a decision on your own in certain matters, you must trust someone else. It is better to move forward with faith in Prabhu.” Any further thinking was just a waste of time.

“Who will fix the auspicious time muhurtham for our wedding day?” Prabhu asked thoughtfully, as soon as he came home from the office that day.

“We will,” Tanmayi said with a small smile.

“Whichever day we get an appointment at the registrar’s office, that itself is our good muhurtham,” she added.

“Let’s keep it as simple as possible. I don’t like grand show-offs and pomp,” he said.

“Okay,” she nodded weakly.

“What happened, ra? If you want, invite whoever you like,” he said fondly, looking into her eyes.

She remained silent, signaling a no.

A kind of fear and anxiety was swirling in her mind. On one hand, there was the fear of whether everything would happen properly or if someone would obstruct it; on the other hand, the tension of whether this wedding—being done without anyone’s knowledge—would be a success. She closed her eyes.

“What happened, ra?” he asked again.

Hearing that deeply affectionate call, all the grief and pain in her mind seemed to vanish. She rested her head on his shoulder and felt completely at ease.

“This peace of mind is enough for my life,” she felt. “Prabhu! You will never leave me and go, right?” she asked.

“I will never go,” he said with a choked voice, stroking her head.

“Shall I take leave tomorrow so we can buy everything needed for the wedding?” she asked.
“Okay, first wash your face with some cold water, I’ll mix some coffee,” he said.
Tanmayi got up happily.

Tanmayi woke up at the crack of dawn, her heart filled with excitement. It was the winter season, which she loved so much. Covering herself in a blanket, she walked out into the front yard. Muggulu  drawn the previous day was still looking beautiful just as it was. The fully bloomed marigolds and oleander flowers were swaying their heads in the pleasant morning air.

Looking up at the sky, she took a deep breath and thought, “Oh unknown friend! My life is about to take a beautiful turn. Won’t you stand by me and ensure everything goes smoothly?”

It was her and Prabhu’s wedding. For their priceless wedding, the clouds were the canopy pelli pandiri, the chirping of birds, the auspicious music mangala vaadyam, and the swaying trees like relatives showering blessings. In this wedding, there was no groom’s side to get offended over trivial matters, nor a bride’s side to fret with dissatisfaction. There was no chaos on either side. It was a beautiful, silent, and purely secret wedding. Was the Gandharva Vivaha she heard about in childhood stories just like this? Maybe. Doing it without any ritualistic fuss felt peaceful and comforting to the heart. What more does one need than two people who like each other deciding to live together?

“Woke up so early?” Prabhu said with a small smile, seeing Tanmayi walk inside just as he got up.

Tanmayi gave a peaceful smile and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For everything,” she said, and began waking up the boy to get him ready for school.

While leaving for shopping, thinking it was better to be safe, she told Thaayiba to look after the boy if they got late in the evening. Tanmayi bought a sandalwood-coloured silk saree that she really liked. Prabhu selected the clothes and shoes he liked.

“But these are clothes you wear to the office,” Tanmayi noted.

“Yes, our wedding is at ten in the morning, right? From there, I have to head straight back to the office,” he said.

Tanmayi looked at him in surprise. “Even if it is a registered marriage, does one have to be this practical?” she asked.

“You already know that I don’t care for grand show-offs. That apart, there is a lot of pending work at the office. The sooner we wrap up here, the better,” he said with a small smile.

“But yesterday you said to take the whole day off…” Tanmayi was about to say when he cut in, “Yesterday I agreed because you were feeling down.”

Within another hour, ordering the flower garlands was also done. “I’ll drop you at the bus stop now and head to the office then,” he said.

Tanmayi said, “But we still have to buy mangalasutram and toe-rings mettelu.”

In response, he gave a small smile and said, “If you like it, you buy it.” Taking a card out of his wallet, he added, “Look, this credit card arrived recently. They accept this only in big shops. I’ll drop you there and leave, come.”

Going into the shop, she looked at the large mangalasutrams, rounds, and varieties of toe-rings, but she couldn’t help wishing that Prabhu was there with her too.

“Marriage” is the most important event in one’s life. Why did it seem so ordinary to him?

Was the flaw in her thinking, or in his way of doing things? Whatever it was, this was far better than the many painful incidents that had happened in her life in the name of marriage so far. Here, she had a life where she could do whatever she liked. “She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.” That thought alone brought immense joy.

Not liking the ready-made toe-rings, she began walking near the small shops in the adjacent lane.

The man who was supposed to walk with her for the rest of her life had left because he couldn’t spare even this little time. “Sigh,” she sighed.

Immediately after, she caught herself thinking the phrase “rest of her life” and smiled to herself.

Did that phrase even have a meaning?

How many dreams had she spun when stepping into her youth! She believed Shekhar would be with her for the rest of her life, and that the house and life she shared with him would be permanent. But all of those remained merely as dreams.

“If you want toe-rings heavier than this, we can make them. But it will take a week,” the shopkeeper was saying.

She snapped back to reality. “Oh no, there isn’t that much time,” she said and walked ahead.

Her maternal grandmother used to wear large toe-rings and anklets. For some reason, she absolutely loved such toe-rings. In her marriage to Shekhar, leave alone sarees and jewelry, not even a single thing—right down to the floral hair extension (poola jada)—happened according to her wishes. It all felt like it happened just yesterday, the wounds in her heart aching with pain. The dowry bargaining during the marriage talks, the tantrums over sister-in-law’s customary gifts during the wedding, the hassles over catering, the fuss over the post-wedding gifts (saare) right after… that was no wedding. It was a war between two families. She began to feel how much better it was to get married quietly like this without anyone’s fuss or interference. Buying everything she liked, Tanmayi boarded the bus. A white silk saree with a golden border was one of those purchases.

As soon as she reached home, she took it out of the cover and looked at it admiringly. She draped it over her shoulder and looked in the mirror. Though her body had become much thinner than before, her face—ready for a marriage that was agreeable to her in every way—had taken on an innocent and captivating new beauty.

After giving the clothes to a nearby tailor, she bought two dozen gold-coloured glass bangles that she had forgotten in the morning. By the time she returned home, Prabhu still hadn’t arrived, so she walked up to the end of the road and anxiously called his office.

Only after hearing Prabhu’s voice from the other end did she feel at ease.

“Must get a phone installed at home, this won’t do. I should go to the telephone exchange the day after tomorrow and put in an application. Anyway, it takes at least six months for a phone line to come,” she thought to herself and sighed.

When Prabhu came home for the night, he looked visibly preoccupied.

While Prabhu was straightening out his mat and blanket to sleep, Tanmayi suggested, “Shall we go up to the terrace for a bit?”

Since they were moonlit days, the moonlight was shining resplendently.

Holding Prabhu’s hand, she said happily, “Do you know our wedding falls right on the pournami?”

“Is it?” he said, and then added abruptly and completely out of context, “My parents are not the ones who gave birth to me; they raised me.”

Tanmayi looked at him in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me all these days? Why are you telling me now?”

“My birth mother is a cousin sister to the mother who raised me. I’ve known that since childhood. Because their financial condition wasn’t good, they gave me up for adoption. In a way, I am their only support now. Because of our marriage, the parents who raised me will definitely distance themselves from me. I am not too worried about that; they don’t need to depend on me. But what about the parents who gave birth to me, to whom I am the sole support? Their situation is such that they cannot get by unless I send money,” he sighed deeply.

“So what… do you think they won’t accept the money if you send it as usual?” Tanmayi said thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, Tanu. More than the money, their stubbornness over me not listening to them might take over. They might ostracise me from the family. I am worried that I will lose the chance to repay the debt of my birth. Moreover, I feel dejected thinking that they will suffer hardships out of anger toward me,” he said.

“You are a very good man, Prabhu! They will never distance you,” Tanmayi said reassuringly, trying to comfort him.

“I don’t know, Tanu! I have to think about how to tell them after our marriage,” he said, still lost in thought.

Tanmayi took his hand into hers and said, “When you told me not to worry about anything, how can you panic like this?” She then asked, “By the way, you have a sister, right? Should we buy something for her?”

“I have an elder sister and an elder brother too. But what is this about buying something for them? Are these the sister-in-law’s customary formalities laanchanaalu?” he smiled slightly and added, “This whole marriage system filled with dowries, customs, and expenses gives me irritation.”

“But if you have an elder brother and sister, why are your folks depending only on you?” she asked.

“They aren’t highly educated. It’s a struggle for them to even get by in their own lives, so how will they look after mom and dad?” he said.

To Tanmayi, Prabhu appeared very noble. She firmly believed that a person who cannot be a good son can never be a good husband either. It was as much her responsibility as it was his that he wanted to look after his people.

She told him exactly that.

“I know, Tanu!” he said with a choked voice, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.

She was so fortunate. The fact that such a good person had sought her out and loved her still felt like a dream to her.

Coming downstairs, she kissed the boy who was sleeping peacefully on his forehead and said, “All our troubles are coming to an end, Nanna. We have nothing to fear anymore.”

The wedding day arrived. She took a head-bath and tied her hair into a loose braid. She applied a thin line of katuka to her eyes and adorned her forehead with tilakam. She tucked her favorite jaajipoolu into her hair.

Wearing the sandalwood-coloured silk saree and gold-coloured bangles on her wrists, Tanmayi was glowing.

“I’ll look after the boy, don’t worry. May you both always remain blessed and happy,” Thaayiba blessed her like an elder, cracking her knuckles against her temples to ward off the evil eye.

As soon as Tanmayi sat on the two-wheeler, the boy came running to the gate and waved, saying, “Ta–ta!”

God knows what he understood, but he waved his hands happily. As they turned the corner of the street, Prabhu, while driving, moved Tanmayi’s hand from his shoulder to around his waist. Seeing the playfulness in his eyes through the rearview mirror, she smiled. Siddhartha arrived at the registrar’s office right on time along with his wife. The signatures, exchanging of garlands, and tying of the sacred thaalibottu all happened quickly.

To Tanmayi, it all felt like an illusion, as if wondering whether this was real or a dream.

She understood that Vedic chants are not necessary for a mature marriage; a marriage where hearts connect is the most joyous and noble one. The steps of the registrar’s office that she descended while holding Prabhu’s little finger became her priceless Saptapadi (seven vows). Due to the cool breeze blowing around, the small yellow leaves of the surrounding trees flew down, making Tanmayi feel as though the sky was gently showering flowers on their wedding.

Coming out, Tanmayi named a nearby restaurant and said, “Let’s finish lunch.”

Prabhu led the way without refusing. Tanmayi felt immensely happy just for that gesture. An hour after lunch, Siddhartha and his wife conveyed their heartfelt congratulations once again and took their leave. Prabhu dropped Tanmayi at the bus stop and left for office.

Placing the garlands inside the hand bag she brought, she kept it on the empty seat next to her. Lest anyone around realize she was a new bride from the glittering thaali around her neck and the toe-rings on her feet, she covered herself with the end of her saree kongu around her shoulders. Though sleep overpowered her due to waking up at dawn, Tanmayi kept looking out of the window, fondly recollecting everything that had happened since morning.

Picking up a few fallen flowers from under the deva ganneru tree at the entrance of the street, she thought to herself, “Friend! Not only did you help everything happen as planned, but you also kept these flowers that I love right here as your gift for me. How do I thank you?” She brought the flowers home with great care and placed them in a small bowl of water.

She showered the boy, who came running to her, with kisses. Though the child didn’t know the reason behind his mother’s happiness, he jumped with joy. Thaayiba came forward and performed a ritual to ward off the evil eye drishti.

“You look so beautiful, Madam. Here, drink this kheer,” she said, handing over a cup of semya payasam.

Tanmayi hugged Thaayiba out of sheer happiness.

Bringing out a saree she had bought for Thaayiba, she handed it to her and said, “Don’t say no, Thaayiba. You are my mother, father, and sibling all in one.”

While the two of them were casually chatting about the wedding details, darkness began to fall.

“I’ll put the boy to sleep at my house for a few days,” Thaayiba said with a knowing smile and took him away.

By the time Prabhu was expected, Tanmayi took a fresh bath and wore the white silk saree with the golden border that she had bought so fondly. She placed one of the oleander flowers in her hair. Looking in the mirror, Tanmayi looked like a celestial nymph (devakanya) to herself.

“Perhaps a marriage done after understanding all the ups and downs of life is the true marriage. The body and mind have finally matured. The first night she is going to share with Prabhu will be most unforgettable and beautiful. She is confident.”

The fragrance of sandalwood incense sticks was comforting and peaceful. Listening to the soft notes of Hariprasad Chaurasia’s flute playing from the tape recorder, Tanmayi leaned back on the bed enraptured and closed her eyes.

In a little while, Prabhu walked in, arched his brows, and gave a small smile.

She lowered her eyes bashfully. Seeing Prabhu, who had bathed and changed into the white lalchi and pyjama she gave him, Tanmayi felt an overwhelming desire to just collapse onto his chest.

But it was very clear that Prabhu looked troubled.

“Are you tired?” she asked.

Watching Prabhu eat his dinner in absolute silence, she placed her hand on his forehead to check if he was feeling unwell. As soon as dinner was over, he went and sat in front of the computer to do his office work. The Internet had arrived through cable only recently. Although there was cable TV, Tanmayi didn’t like sitting in front of the TV all the time. But because of this internet, office work has now come home.

Seeing that he hadn’t moved even though it was eleven o’clock, she sighed and said, “I am feeling sleepy, babu.”

“Go to sleep then,” he said softly.

She looked at him strangely, as if wondering if she heard right.

As if understanding Tanmayi’s feelings, he said, “Forgive me, my mind is not at peace at all.”

Going close to him, she turned him toward her and said gently, “Today is the very first day of our marriage.”

Seeing his eyes filled with grief, she quickly sat down beside him and asked anxiously, “What happened?”

“They called from home this evening. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t summon the courage to tell them that we got married this morning. A sense of guilt is completely enveloping me,” he said, burying his head in Tanmayi’s lap and weeping bitterly.

*****

(Continued next month)