Bhrigu Mahesh, Phd Read online

  He then took a deep breath and said ‘I won’t worry you with my domestic affairs seeing that you have just been through a difficult journey. Please do come in. I’ll show you to a room that I have fixed to the best of my abilities. If you think you can manage, I’ll be thankful and if not then, sir…’ he gulped, ‘you’ll have to go back as I’m afraid I don’t have the money to put you up anywhere else.’

  It was I who gulped visibly this time.

  CHAPTER 9

  An Introduction

  or Two

  If the room which Nataraj Bhakti shoved us into was ‘fixed’, I don’t know what an unfixed room would look like. The first thing that I noticed were cob webs, hanging like some kind of modern abstract art, almost everywhere that the eyes could see. I don’t know why our host had thought it proper to keep them; because last I checked, spiders where still not civilized enough to be considered a favorable company. Well, moving on, there was a small window with battered window panes which were shut clumsily. Two chairs were arranged before it, around a small wooden table. The chairs looked weak and in the advanced stages of decay and I decided that whatever happened, I won’t push them to their limits by putting my weight on them.

  ‘Sir,’ said Nataraj Bhakti hesitantly, ‘can you adjust in this room? I know I am asking way too much.’

  ‘I can adjust anywhere, Bhaktiji’ said Bhrigu, cocking an eyebrow at me. ‘It’s my friend to whom this question should be directed to.’

  ‘Oh please.’ I cried in protest ‘What do you take me for huh? I am not a wimp. I, too, can put up anywhere.’

  ‘That’s settled then’ said Bhrigu, smiling broadly. ‘We accept your lodgings Bhaktiji.’

  ‘Thank you sir’ our host replied, bent over with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much. God only knows how ashamed I was to show you to this room. I am relieved now.’

  He was about to leave with something that could well have amounted to a spring in his step when I hailed him ‘Um…Mr. Bhakti…I can stay in this room and all but…err…would you be kind enough to remove these cob webs? My friend here mediates a lot and cob webs can get in the way of that, don’t you think?’

  Nataraj Bhakti went red around the tips of his ears. ‘Surely sir, surely’ he replied quickly ‘I…I told Premkala to clean the room but she…she…’He stopped himself with quite an effort. ‘I will send her to this room within seconds and see to it that she cleans it thoroughly; the good for nothing woman. Why should I keep on lending money to her useless husband when she can’t do what I ask of her once in a blue moon?’ He raced down the stairs and for a moment I was afraid that he would miss a step and fall. The tragedy was somehow averted as I saw him disappear from my view but after a few seconds his angry voice reached me, admonishing Premkala and calling her ‘Good for nothing’ at proper intervals. Minutes within our host’s loss of temper, I could hear heavy footfalls on the stairs and as I retreated into the room from the threshold where I had stationed myself to hear what was happening downstairs, a woman presented herself on our doorstop. This I assumed must be Premkala, the infamous spy of the village of Krishna Dwar.

  At first glance, she looked an average village woman to me but the way she stood at the threshold and stared at us was, well, unsettling.

  ‘Namaste sir.’ she said with folded hands. ‘Who among you is Bhrigu Mahesh?’

  In my village sojourns with my friend, I have come to understand a basic fact that there is some kind of chemical in the bucolic air that imparts its inhabitants a curious nature, way curious than that that of their city counterparts, and I have come to make my peace with it. If Premkala shared the same zeal as her village friends, I would have hardly minded but this woman here was in another league altogether. The way she stared at us without any inhibitions and put the question before us like it was our fundamental duty as a citizen of India, to answer her, shocked me, to say the least.

  ‘I am he’ my friend replied with a smile.

  ‘And you?’ she asked, now looking demandingly at me.

  ‘I am his friend, Sutte.’

  ‘So you are the city friends of Nataraj Bhaiya.’ she said now frisking us from head to foot. ‘How long have you known each other?’

  For the purposes of concealment, as Bhrigu always preaches, we had come here under false identities. We were friends of Nataraj Bhakti from the city, coming here to pay him a friendly visit.

  ‘Quite a long time.’ I replied.

  ‘Strange’ she said ‘You are quite young to be the friends of Nataraj Bhaiya.’

  ‘Nonetheless, we are his friends.’ Bhrigu replied firmly.

  She stared at us for a few seconds, shrugged, and then got busy with her cleaning. I had to run outside the room to escape the cob webs landing on me.

  Once outside, I looked at the woman in our room. She was dusting the room with a phool jhadu and I could see that the work was not pleasing her a bit. She kept muttering something or the other under her breath. Premkala was a small woman, not more than five feet in height and there was certain energy in her which was unmistakable. She resented working but I knew that she could clean the whole house in under an hour, if she so wished. The way she worked was like an electric current; fast, energetic and effortless and I had a suspicion that I would receive a shock if I dared touch her. Her body was in the grey area between stout and thin but there was compactness to her form that we often associate with athletes. She had a round face with full cheeks and slanting eyes that had a habit of flashing whenever a question lurked in them.

  Bhrigu was sitting on the chair and had not bothered to come out like me. He was playing with his cell phone but I could clearly see him observing the woman covertly.

  ‘You are a fast and efficient worker.’ I remarked, hastening to the room as I saw that she was almost done and was now making her way out. ‘Thank you for cleaning our room.’

  My compliment must have sounded Greek to her as she looked at me for a full minute and then asked ‘Are you married?’

  I was shocked at the directness with which she inquired of me what I considered to be a personal question. I did not know what I had said or done to warrant such an inquisition into my private affairs. ‘No, I am not.’ I replied brusquely ‘Why?’

  ‘Nothing’ She replied easily ‘I was just asking.’

  I was about to take my revenge by asking something personal about her in return when she sharply turned towards my friend, who was observing the uncouth woman with interest, and said ‘Are you married?’

  ‘No. I am not.’ Bhrigu replied with a smile that threatened to turn into a grin. ‘We are a couple of bachelor friends, I’m afraid.’

  I could see from the look on her face that our answers had only helped to stroke the fire of curiosity that always burned within her. The flame was now smoldering. ‘But why?’ She asked, incredulous. ‘You must be over thirty? Aren’t you?’

  Her questions had started to work on my temper and it was with visible effort that I could control myself from giving her a piece of my mind. How dare she stand before us, a mere stranger, and ask such personal questions as if she was our most intimate friend? This woman was a menace and I now completely understood why Manjunath Gupta and his wife detested her with every fiber of their being.

  ‘We have not found the right partners, yet.’ Bhrigu replied patiently. I could not understand how he could remain so calm in the face of such a provocation. He was easily providing her with answers when all she needed was a firm hand to show her when to stop.

  I was greatly relieved when her attention got divided by the heated discussion that came drifting towards us from the ground floor. ‘He won’t leave him alone!’ She cried and ran towards the source of the commotion.

  Bhrigu and I followed her downstairs only to come upon Nataraj Bhakti losing his temper once again, but this time on a midget of a man, who stood one head below our host. We could not observe his fe
atures as he was facing away from us.

  ‘How many times have I to tell you not to take anything on credit from Bilawat’s ration shop?’ he yelled. ‘Buy anything only if you have your own money to buy it or else he will come breathing down my neck to ask for his dues. Why should I pay for your expenses?’

  ‘I did not ask Bilawat to go after you.’ The man returned back with spirit. ‘Why am I being blamed for what he does?’

  ‘Don’t try to get smart with me!’ our host said, brandishing his fist in a most menacing manner. If I hadn’t seen him in this mood with my own eyes, I would never have believed that he had it in him. ‘You very well know that Bilawat gives you things on credit because he thinks I will pay for them.’

  ‘It’s his fault that he thinks so.’ The man returned back. ‘I never told him to go asking you for money.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Nataraj Bhakti shouted and I stepped a foot back, anxious that I might have burst my ear drum. ‘Shall I take you to Bilawat’s? He has another story to tell. He says that you keep using me as your insurance. Let me tell you, you brat, you cannot take advantage of my reputation. I will not have it. I will take you to Bilawat and explain to him that if you buy anything from him, you alone shall pay for it, not me.’

  ‘What do you think you are, Bhaiji?’ piped in Premkala, who had hitherto been a silent spectator ‘Are you a dhanna seth (A rich man)? My husband can pay for his expenses alright. He does not have to beg from you.’

  Nataraj Bhakti steered towards her. ‘Really? You are saying this now but tomorrow it will be the same old story. Are you ready to sign a paper that says that you and your husband will no longer touch my penny?’

  She looked at him with eyes spitting fire but did not bother to answer that question. Instead she disappeared into one of the dark rooms lining the courtyard with her husband at her heels.

  When they had left, Nataraj Bhakti wiped the sweat from his forehead and it was then that he noticed our presence.

  ‘Oh! I am so sorry that you had to witness all that.’ he said apologetically ‘In my life, it’s a daily routine.’

  ‘No need for apologies, sir’ said Bhrigu, putting a kindly hand on the elderly man’s shoulder. ‘There is no house on this planet that has never seen a fight.’

  Nataraj Bhakti let out a sigh and I could see that Bhrigu’s assurance had helped him to relax.

  ‘Mr. Bhakti’ I asked ‘Why do you…’ But Bhrigu looked at me meaningfully and I took it as my cue to maintain my silence.

  This was how we got introduced to the first of the delinquents who lived in Nataraj Bhakti’s house- Premkala and her husband, Chiranjeev.

  CHAPTER 10

  A Sad Woman

  The first night in the room was nothing short of fateful. Bhrigu eased off to sleep as soon as he had hit the pillows but for me, it was a completely different story. What went wrong? That’s a wrong question to ask. What one should be asking is that what went right. I mean even after being subjected to a thorough cleaning by the grudging hands of dear Premkala, the lecherous room had refused to make itself warm and welcoming to its guests. And how could it? The disease of degeneration which it was suffering from was past any form of cure. Like old age that progresses in the general direction of rot, this house, too, had completed its life span and whatever held it together now, could only amount to a life support system.

  The bedding I was sleeping on croaked under my weight every time I tried to change my position. The grime, the decaying paint, the very stench of an assortment of invisible things secretly rotting away in some obscure corner was enough to assail my delicate senses and to keep me from my beauty sleep. The window had been opened for the purposes of ventilation but the faint stream of cool air it let in, did nothing to mitigate the stuffiness of the room. Also, I heard strange sounds from hitherto undiscovered species of rodents that set my teeth on edge every time I heard them.

  Somehow, I found success in sleeping fitfully; my subconscious running a strange cocktail of dreams and if I remember right, I saw myself in one as a half man, half peacock hybrid, gingerly running in fright from a ferocious predator. I would have kept on running, if not for an unknown creature from an outside world, shamelessly attempting to steal some of the feathers of my beautiful plumage. I resented this vulgar behavior and cursed the alien loudly but the persecution did not stop. After a while, I could hear his voice. It sounded oddly like my friend’s and it was saying…

  ‘Get up Sutte! It’s closer to ten!’ I sat bolt upright on the bed and gently messaged my groggy eyes. ‘Wh…what happened?’ I mumbled, half in sleep and half in shock. ‘Is…is everything alright?’

  ‘If you don’t wake up this instant, everything will not be alright with you.’ he returned hotly.

  I now opened my eyes wide enough to observe my surroundings. The room, I am forced to comment, looked much brighter than I had seen it last evening. The windows appeared bigger and the furniture did not look as dark and dreary as on the previous night. The old walls, sporting a fascinating growth of mold; the moth eaten cupboards and the rotting wooden chairs looked just a step away from their judgment day.

  My friend was peering out the window, taking in the sights and scenery outside. He had already had his bath and was dressed in a fresh pair of white Kurta-Pajama.

  ‘I can see the whole village from up here’ he said ‘I think I can tell which one is the house of Manjunath Gupta.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, only half interested ‘But I won’t ask how. I would be happier now if you could apply your skills to tell me the whereabouts of my chappals.’

  ‘They must be under the bed.’ he replied, still looking out.

  ‘Under the bed?’ I cried ‘What the hell are they doing under the bed?’

  He now looked at me with a patronizing smile and said ‘Premkala came in the morning when you were asleep. She cleaned the room once again. She had to pick up your footwear to get to the dust under it.’

  I got the picture. Standing up, I looked under my bed and there they were; right at the mid-centre of the circumference of the bed.

  ‘Get ready.’ Bhrigu said ‘Nataraj Bhakti came in to inform me that Savita would be bringing our breakfast. It would be a good way to study her.’

  ‘Study her, we will.’ I replied, looking around the room and finding it lacking in basic amenities. ‘Where the hell is the bathroom?’

  ‘You won’t find it here, my man.’ Bhrigu replied, with a smile. ‘There is only one bathroom which is located in the backyard of the house. I am afraid you will have to manage.’

  ‘What?’ I cried. ‘This is ridiculous! Do you suppose that I have to descend two flights of stairs just to reach the bathroom?’

  ‘Yes’

  I cursed under my breath.

  When I returned from my trip to hell, I could see the back of a woman, arranging tea and some snacks on the table. Without announcing my arrival, I quietly entered the room and sat on the edge of my bed. That was the only spot where I could comfortably place myself without running the risk of getting trampled on the foot by the diligent woman.

  Bhrigu sat on the chair and commanded a good view of our visitor. I should praise him highly on his skills for covert observation. Whatever cues a person provided to their personality, through the nuances in their behavior and gesture, he was quick to notice.

  ‘If you need anything else, Bhaiji,’ said the woman in a gentle voice, ‘please, call me. I am in the room opposite.’

  ‘Thank you’ my friend replied sweetly. ‘You are Savita, right?’

  ‘Yes.’ she said, straightening up. I should remark here that she had a height that easily went above the five feet six mark. ‘I see that Nataraj Bhaiya has told you about me.’

  ‘Yes. It was in answer to my question. I was curious to know about the relatives he was living with after his retirement.’

  ‘Oh’ she replied
with a hint of mockery ‘So, I am his relative. I guess he sees no difference between me and Bhabhi.’

  Bhrigu did not answer her rhetorical question.

  ‘Never mind’ she replied with a resigned tone. ‘I should be happy that he considers me a relative, at least.’

  As she turned around to leave the room, I got to see her in the full light of the window. How could anyone in their right mind class someone as beautiful as her as and I quote “Delinquent” is more than what my humble brain could process. The woman was beautiful by all accepted standards; all except those thick eyebrows but they were comely in their own way. She had a gentle, oval face and beautiful black eyes that were set deep in her forehead. Her eyes were not big but the way they twinkled under the long eyelashes could hold the attention of any man. She had a slightly flat nose and her lips were thin but beautifully contoured. I could have happily concluded that she was one of the most beautiful women I ever had the good fortune to see but for one fact that marred her attractive features somewhat. Her eyes were sad. The shine that they had was a reflection of the sunlight without and not from gayness within. Her mouth was delicate but the way it was set in a hard line was enough to tell me that she had not laughed for quite some time now.

  ‘She looks sad, don’t you think?’ I asked my friend, as soon as I could hear the sound of her footsteps fading in the room opposite us.

  Bhrigu ignored my question and started to pile up the food on his plate. I did not know that he was quite so ravenous as to almost empty the bowl containing the vegetable curry. I quickly came over to take my share or else I was afraid that at the rate he was going, soon there would not be much left for me to go on.