Novel - The Obsessions - Chapter - 13

The Nuptial Knot

My professional life continued for three years at the fort city. This period saw in me a marked maturity. My fiancée grew at the native place into an eighteen year old damsel, ready to marry me.

I came on a three week’s leave home. My wedding was to take place in a few days. It was celebration time for my brothers. We always got out to the town together. Our mother watched us leaving together. She used to tell us “I want the three of you to be united like this throughout your lives”

The atmosphere at our house reverberated with merriment. Jokes and anecdotes of the past were freely exchanged. It was a pleasure to see my mother laugh uncontrollably with her head moving up and down with her right hand cupping her mouth.

The wedding invitation cards were printed. The name of my grandpa was missing in the cards. He was in his heavenly abode. I felt very sad. The deep wounds inflicted on my heart by the departure of my father and grandpa from this earth, once again became painful.

It was five years back. I was doing my final year engineering course. My youngest brother was studying in the high school two kilometers away from the farm house where my grandparents were staying. We spent our Onam vacation with our grandparents. We had sumptuous feast for Onam. My grandpa had improved from the fall he had at the ancestral home, a few months back. He could walk around slowly. While I returned after the vacation, I was very sad and was waiting for the next opportunity to go to him again.

Lecturer Eapen was going through the ritual of taking the class on Irrigation Structures. While writing he was talking to the blackboard. He never bothered whether we understood the subject or not. While the farce was going on, I saw Raman standing near the window at the verandah and waving at me to go to him. I took permission to go out and meet him. The news given by him was one of shock and utter disbelief. My grandpa had expired.

I came home with Raman. Mother was in tears. I read the telegram. It was in the morning. I could not control myself. I wept over the loss of the most important human being in my life. He was my friend, my teacher and my mentor. A world without him was unimaginable. I was two years old when he took over my guardianship. From that time it was me that mattered most to him. He pampered me with his uninhibited love. He hopped everywhere with me in his pouch, like a kangaroo. He moulded me, he taught me and he was waiting for me to become an engineer. He was everything to me. I had no one to go to. My grief flowed out like an open spillway.

My younger brother arrived from his school. We got in a private bus. The conductor was a very witty man. All his humourous discourses did not amuse us that afternoon. We were impatient to reach our village on time for the cremation. We asked the conductor whether we would reach on time.

He said “Don’t worry, saippu will make up.” Saippu was the bus driver.

We got down at the bridge. I walked with my mother and brother as if I was walking in a dream. We passed the pond, our ancestral house and walked straight through the fields. At the farmhouse, smoke was rising high on the right side. I ran inside. The cremation was going on.

“But why did they not wait for us” I asked my elechan. My youngest brother was standing there, crying. This was the second time I was seeing my young and innocent brother pass through the situations of witnessing the death of dear ones. It was year back when the first tragedy struck and now, the second.

I took a piece of firewood, lighted it and kept it on the funeral pyre. I could see only the back of his head. All other parts were physically getting swallowed by the cruel flames. I had kissed that head umpteen times. I had played with that head on innumerable occasions. I had mounted on his shoulders several times. He would catch my tiny hands and walk through the road proudly, showing his grandson to everyone.

I asked. Where are you now? Why did you do this to me? What shall I do without you?

There was no answer. And there won’t be any answer. The smoke rose higher. The firewood made cracking noise. His head became invisible. My grandpa had already changed his abode. He was with God and was in my heart, with me till I would die.

My tears dropped on the wedding cards. I wiped them off. I should not cry, I decided. I was going to give happiness to my loving girl who was waiting for that day, when we would be tying the Nuptial knot. And my father and grandpa would be there to bless us from heaven.

In front of the Lord, I tied the Mangalsutra on her neck. From that moment, the shy, eighteen year old girl with big eyes was mine in all respects. We went to the inner shrine and prayed. Oh! Almighty! Forgive me for all my sins. I now take an oath that I will make my wife the happiest human being on earth. Bless us, Lord. My eyes dampened.

As per my family customs, the groom had to stay the first night at the bride’s house. I entered the house which was a familiar place to me. It was the house in which my father breathed his last. I remembered the words of my father in law while we were leaving that house three years back. “Don’t cry, you all will be coming to this house in the future”

I was relaxing in the portico room, when my sister came to me and announced that my wife would not be sharing the room with me due to some norms created by her physical condition. I was totally disappointed. But I saw her standing near the window, outside, with her friend, looking at me with her large eyes and smiling. She was wearing the wedding sari which I had given her in front of the Lord. She looked stunning. She whispered “See you tomorrow” and vanished.

The next morning, at 7 O’clock, we were travelling in a taxi car to my ancestral home, 200 kilometres away. The back seat of the car accommodated four passengers with difficulty. I was sitting near the window and she was next to me. With every jerk of the car, I moved closer to her pressing her body to mine. She smiled heartily at my mischief and she clung closer to me, till we reached my house. With every touching of her body she became closer and nearer to my heart.

The luncheon party at my house was very grand. The feast was prepared by Doraiswamy Iyer. In the evening, there was a reception party. My friends and relatives arrived. My wife was an object of curiosity as in the village, all brides used to come from nearby villages or towns. When the party was over, all my friends left.

The night arrived. Our bedroom was upstairs, the western room. The open windows brought in moonlight and the breeze. The same smell of night queen filled the room. We talked till late in the night.

The next morning, everyone stared at us, thinking what might have happened during the previous night. They must not have known that we were a patient couple.

We made our return journey to her house after breakfast. That evening, we visited the temple and prayed. The onlookers watched us with affection.

Later in the night we were alone in our bedroom. It was the same bedroom my father had used. It was the same bedroom on the floor of which my father’s body lay in state. I prayed for his blessings. The zero watt bedroom lamp was on. In the dim light, she looked straight into my eyes. I kissed the eyelids. A tear drop rolled out of her beautiful eye. It was the tear of joy, the tear of the long wait and it was the catalyst for the union of two young bodies.

She was shy. But I did not care. My lips closed on hers, our breaths became one. Heat from two bodies flew into one another. I was very cautious, even though urgent. The melody of her muffled voice was musical and intermittent. The blood of my father and mother, running through my body wished an outlet. It transformed and attained a life giving posture. Heaven was let loose; she clung to me as her agony vanished into ecstasy. Our lips met again and when I melted into her, it was as though flowers were falling on us from heaven, dew drops being sprayed on to our bodies, and our muscles being stretched into an unknown bliss. We did not know that night, that the seeds of a new life were sown in, at that very room where my father and mother had shared their beds.

Days flew with faster pace. At the railway station, her parents and my brothers bade us farewell. They were all in tears. We were on our way to North India.

It was good that we were allotted a first class coupe. The express train sped along and crossed the Western Ghats. I tried to make her cheerful. I showed her the changing landscape. The meals vendor knocked at the door and I ordered two vegetarian meals. It was her first outing outside the state. We ate our meals though they were not tasty.

I sat beside her. She rested her head on my right arm. Her right hand caressed my cheeks. It went towards my moustache and down to my lips. She put both her hands around my neck and pulled my face to her. She parted my lips with her tongue and kissed me passionately. The engine driver threw more coal into the fire. The train gathered speed. The rocking motion of the train brought our bodies closer and closer. The wheels of the train rattled on the rail joints with the same rhythm as our bodies met with each other. The gates of paradise opened.

Tears of joy flowed from her eyes as she kissed me passionately. The whistling of the train buried our moans inside the coupe.