Benign Flame: Saga of Love - BS Murthy (best way to read an ebook .TXT) 📗

love life, nothing worthwhile can happen in a man’s life unless woman concedes,” said Lalitha as though to make Roopa privy to the ingrained characteristics of the feminine fecundity. “But let woman just wink, and men in scores line up to prostrate at her feet to cater to her every whim and fancy. Well, once she gives in, the man makes her dance to his tunes in turn, so if a woman is careless in choosing her lover, it could as well spell trouble for her.”

‘How come I’ve never heard of such things before?’ Roopa thought leaving them, as it was time for Sathyam’s return, ‘Maybe the exposure in the metros makes women more pragmatic. Books might educate, but it’s the life that teaches.’

“Sorry, I was held up at the office,” Sathyam grumbled as he came home late in the evening. “The minister wanted some statistics, of course the irrelevant sort, and it’s enough for the secretary to be after me. Though quick at extracting work, they’re slow in rewarding the deserving. Even otherwise, the burden of work is borne by the likes of me, but the loaves of office are reserved for the scheduled castes.”

“They too need a place under the sun, unexposed as they were to the light of life for so long,” she said as she thought about Anand.

“Not that I don’t feel for them but nothing should be done at the cost of merit. Anyway, there’s nothing that can be done about it so long as the politicians have an axe to grind with them,” he said stoically.

“Why feel frustrated when it’s beyond our control?” she said helpfully.

“Whatever, can anyone suppress his aspirations?” he said still smarting.

‘It seems life’s balancing act lies in reconciling its aspirations and the attendant limitations,’ she thought but didn’t offer any comment.

“Whatever, we would be having a gala time next Sunday. My colleagues came up with the idea of a picnic at Gandipet to felicitate us. As they insisted, I said yes, hoping you would agree,” said Sathyam as though in reconciliation.

“Have I ever spoiled your party?” said Roopa enthused herself, and. thought. ‘Maybe, it makes sense to go out at times than brooding at home all the time.’

 

Chapter 7

Roopa’s En Passant

 

That Sunday morning, the picnic spot at Gandipet, on the banks of Osmansagar, was crowded with holidaymakers of all descriptions. When Sathyam and Roopa reached the place on their Lambretta, the gathering found their bearings for reveling.

“Mrs. Sathyam is marvelous,” admired a middle-aged man within Roopa’s hearing.

Though the compliment pleased her no end, the allusion startled her. Soon she was galled at the inevitability of her social identity as Mrs. Sathyam, and thought in despair,

‘Mrs. Sathyam could be the prop of my public stance but who would know about my private reconciliation for accommodation.’

However, the admiring looks of the males around, and the eagerness of the females to befriend her, enlivened her mood, Roopa didn’t fail to discern the amorous glances of men who loitered around her, though the not so forthright appeared casual, camouflaging their craving. When someone proposed a round of rummy, and produced three sets of unopened packs, as if to seduce the fence sitters, Sathyam, who was amusing himself with some children nearby, was summoned. Roopa too was roped in for a quorum.

“Five rupees a count,” proposed a regular clubman.

“If it were for stakes, I’m not a game for it,” Sathyam tended to withdraw

“A card-game without stakes is like an amorous exercise with the incapable; only the hands ache as the libido gets no relief,” remarked the regular.

“Why spoil the party; any way, you’ve the sidekicks at the club for your kicks,” said his friend.

Seeing Roopa adept at the game, Sathyam asked,

“How come you play so well?”

“We used to play at Sandhya’s place,” she said declaring yet another deal.

“Mrs. Sathyam I think you would make a fortune if only you turn into a pro. You’ve got the skill and luck in the required measures to sweep the stakes,” complimented the regular.

“Lucky at cards and unlucky in love, so why bother her with your proposition,” said his friend.

After scooting the next deal, Roopa looked up, as if on cue, and found a youth perched on a low branch. Sensing that he was looking down at her, she realized her pallu had loosened its guard on her assets making her readjust her apparel to block her enticing valley to his probing glances. Blushing nevertheless, she seemed pleased at his enterprise and experienced a sense of romanticism underlined by his eagerness.

After the brunch, when the group gathered for a round of bingo with gusto, as Sathyam missed the house narrowly, commented a wag amongst them, “With a wife like his in his house, where’s the need for another house.”

Spending the day in mirth and merriment, and having agreed upon the need for future outings, the gathering dispersed towards the evening.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed; how everyone sings your praises! I’m really proud of you,” said Sathyam as she got onto the pillion.

“It’s a nice outing,” she said fondly glancing backwards as they proceeded homewards.

While the euphoria of the event cast an infectious spell on Roopa, synchronous with his spirits, Sathyam switched into the top gear.

------

As though to bring Roopa back to her humdrum routine, the next morning, Yadamma turned up for work past nine.

“Why so late?” said Roopa in irritation

“I was held up at Taraamma’s house,” Yadamma began her harangue by way of an explanation. “I was helping her pack up for her journey. Don’t worry amma; she won’t go out much, may be once or twice in a month, and that too just for two or three days, no more.”

As Yadamma got on with her work, satisfied with the explanation, Roopa busied herself with the lunch-box for Sathyam. However, when the buzzer sounded that afternoon, breaking the monotony, Roopa expected the postman, and finding him, she experienced a sense of excitation.

“Have you moved in recently?” asked the postman handing her a couple of envelopes.

“My father is a Post Master at Kakinada,” she said, and seeing that the letters were from Sandhya and her father, she felt that it was bonus post for her.

“So we’re baradaris; I’ll treat your mail as our family mail,” he said as he left.

Closing the door behind him, she opened Ramaiah’s letter first, not wanting to get distracted from the bliss of Sandhya’s missive later. As she culled through her father’s letter, she gathered that all was well at home, and felt glad about that. But as she fondly gazed at her address in Sandhya’s hand, her eyes glistened with fondness. When she pressed the envelope to her bosom, her breasts started heaving as though to synchronize her emotions with Sandhya’s anticipated feelings. As she unfolded the letter at length, her eyes became antennas to transmit the spasms of Sandhya’s heart to her soul.

‘Roopa, my Lovey,

I couldn’t think of a better way of addressing you than the one you thought for me, moreover, you are to me what I am to you, aren’t you?

In our separation, I feel as though the vitals of my body and the essence of my soul were wrenched out from me. I have come to realize that your body is but an extension of my soul. I can feel your line like the flow in my veins - I’ve carried my body leaving behind my soul in your frame. Now I know, more than ever, that we are complete only in our togetherness. I pray that after I get married, we might become neighbors for all our life. Until then, we have to bear our separation and bide for the time.

Sorry for having kept you waiting for so long for my letter. Well, I was at a loss for words when it came to writing to you. Believe me.

Yours all,

Sandhya.’

As Roopa read and reread the letter, her innate longing for Sandhya wrenched her every nerve. Thus at bedtime that night, having shown her father’s letter to Sathyam, she said, “I want to go home.”

“What’s the hurry? We would be going there for the dasara,” he said softly.

“Dasara is far way, then we can go together,” she tried to persuade him.

“It’s not even a month since we’ve set up our sweet home and why sour it so soon,” he said in smile and tried to take her into his arms, as though to whisper the prescription for her ailment,

“Dear, you’ve to get over your homesickness.”

Dodging him, she turned her back on him.

“Don’t behave like a kid,” he said affectionately, and tried to turn her to his side.

“What have you got to do with a kid?” she said as she resisted his advances.

“You know that I didn’t mean it that way,” he said softly, cuddling her.

“Never mind, I prefer being a kid,” she said withdrawing from his embrace.

“I am sorry if I’ve hurt you,” he said pleadingly.

“If you are really sorry, let me be alone,” she said, and pulled a blanket over her head, signaling curtains for him.

The next day too Sathyam had to contend with a morose Roopa, and during bedtime, as if to preempt his move, she pretended headache. Unable to bear the tension born out of her regimen, that plagued him for a couple of days more, he gave in.

“Look, I’ve a surprise for you,” he said that night.

Though she smelt victory, she feigned indifference.

“You can travel this Saturday,” he said showing her the reserved ticket.

“Thank you,” she tried to appear casual.

“Now at least you can bring your bewitching smile back onto your fascinating face,” he said, taking her into his arms.

Having enfeebled him into setting a precedent, as she was not averse to giving in, she said enticingly,

“Switch off the light.”

------

Roopa’s arrival that Sunday morning took her parents, still at ablutions, all by surprise.

“What’s the matter?” said Janaki apprehensively.

“Oh, don’t imagine things, I’ve come to have some fun,” said Roopa heartily.

“Still Sathyam should’ve wired about your arrival,” said Ramaiah in relief,

“If you’re not pleased, I’ll go back right now,” said Roopa making a mocking move.

“Stop it now, how’s your husband?” said Janaki holding Roopa’s hand.

“He’s fine but where are our devils?” said Roopa looking around.  

As though to answer her query, Chandrika emerged from the bathroom and Raju came from the vegetable market.

“So, Raju gives you a helping hand these days,” Roopa said aloud before whispering to him.”What’s the commission like my boy?”

“How is my poor brother-in-law suffering your nagging?” Raju said in jest.

“What’s the news from Suguna?” said Roopa.

“She’s doing fine with her family,” said Janaki with that sense of satisfaction mothers derive at the well-being of their married daughters. “But she complains that you don’t write to her.”

 “Ask her if she ever wrote to me,” said Roopa.

“How parents wish that their children develop a strong family bond that binds the coming generations but sadly these days even the first cousins are not on familiar terms,” said Janaki stoically.

As Janaki went back to her kitchen chores, Roopa and Chandrika closeted over coffee to exchange confidences.

“Won’t you show me the progress card?” said Roopa eagerly,

“He’s on the lookout for a job in Madras. We want to move out of here to save embarrassment to our parents. Hopefully the decks would be cleared by December. You know he’s eager to meet you,” said Chandrika holding Roopa’s hand.

“It should be a pleasure meeting my brother-in-law in the making,” said Roopa.

“I hope, your fears are but liars,” said Chandrika hoping to hear in the affirmative.

“When hopes are duped what’s there to fear? Maybe, it’s in the nature of marriage that one learns to fall in line,” said Roopa resignedly.

“I’ll know that any way but you should know without you Sandhya is like a fish out of water. Oh, how she loves you!’ said Chandrika.

“If not for her love, there’s no hope left in my life,” said Roopa closing her eyes as though to picture her friend.

“How I wish I too had a friend like her,” said Chandrika.

“Roopa, why don’t you have your bath,” yelled Janaki from the kitchen.

“I’ll have an early