Consanguinity in jeopardy

U Sharma
Babesha, Thimphu

“Obligation versus Truth!!!!” murmured she, inhaling a gulp of morning zephyr.Eyes downcast; Jaya, sitting on a plastic stool on the balcony of her two-storeyed house continued to ponder over the unseen conflict between the two different abstract terms.

A copy of a daily newspaper lay on the cane-table beside her. A unique one; framed by her own hands during the leisure hours, that she used for shelving newspapers.

“Should I unveil the reality?” she said to herself, raising her eye.

She knew the disclosure would be a Herculean task. Yet, she had a feeling that that the disclosure would cleanse the clandestine clash between obligation and truth that had pricked her for a score years.

She rubbed her eyes and looked towards the western sky. She could get a view of Rosy’s house at a considerable distance.

“I must stop the tumultuous earthquake,” she hissed at a lowly voice, adding, “and must pour out the bitter truth ^_____ the sophisticated reality. I must shore and provide succor to the ignorant and innocent parents of the budding duo of Rosy and Roshan.

Jaya was a nurse by profession. She had moved into the two-storeyed, red-roofed house twenty five years back. She had been extending her helping hands to the needy en masse in the community, apart from her professional commitments. Through her extroverted nature, she had developed a good rapport with the hoi polloi in the neighborhood. The locals called her HEALER.

The wheat-complexioned nurse, in her late forties, finished browsing the newspaper. She stretched her, otherwise, short neck and looked around the neighboring outskirts. Her glossy eyes fell on the ancient mule track that stretched from Rosy’s house. A broad and dusty track albeit, skew-skiff.

“Obligation and Truth! What a network?” she murmured, sotto voce, remembering her superior’s advice. The elements of obligation and truth squabbled into her.

“Human decision is, at times, evaluated based on these two parallel forces,” she grumbled.

“Is it the mere duty of a human being to do good to others, provide services and render help or is it the truthfulness of a person that determines the greatness of a person?” she asked to herself. She looked at her wrist-watch. It read 9.30 a.m. She eased herself on the stool.

‘a day of rest after a month,” she thought. She, then, remembered an extra day of leave she had applied for the next day.

“Fulfilling obligation within an obligation is an act of vice in the face of reality ^____ the truth,” she spoke to the silent air. To some extent, she cursed herself, raison d’ etre stuffed inside her.

“Golly! What a difference! The decision of an embryonic brain and the decision based on reality (that is compatible to the matured self) carry a hidden lapse of sky and earth” said Jaya, trying to analyze the depth of the situation in actuality.

While being engrossed in a mental debate on the superiority of duty over truthfulness, her roaming eyes fell on Rosy. She emerged from a cowshed. She held an aluminum bowl in her hands. Jaya assumed it was a lump of cow dung that rosy carried to the house.

“Bauling of floor with cow dung once a day sanctifies the house,” Jaya recalled the morbid of the belief of the pious Hindus.  Jaya conceived an additional slap on her face while pondering over the bitter truth ^_____ the disastrous event that was to take place soon after.

“Rosy was born in front of me,” she whispered, adding, “and she grew up to a teenager with a good score on education. Woh! What a fast life?  She is getting married in a month’s time. 16^th May is not too far. Oh, Lord! Help me to help them. It’s only you and I know the torturing reality. Doctor Jha has left us for good. That day is still vivid in my memory. It remained a fixed reminder in my life all these years ^____ since the day Rosy was born.

She shuddered and made herself comfortable on her seat. Her eyes fell on a flock of fouls on the forecourt. She spent moments watching the birds pecking at the grains and insects, vying to fill their deflated craws.

“This is the spice of life,” she murmured.

“What is the greatness of the so-called virtuous act of doctor Jha and mine? Oh, Lord! Give me the answer,” she sobbed.

She found herself in a turbulent state of mind. She visualized revolutionary waves running pell-mell inside her. She felt it a must to share the radical strokes with someone. She thought of her uxorious husband, who was on a tour for a week, then. And she decided not to disclose him.

She recalled their halcyon honeymoon nights ^______ the way he hugged and warmed her up to breathlessness, the way they loved each other endlessly__ more like a pair of be-it-the-way doves, the way they shared the bare bones of each other. She had, even during such moments of inseparable closeness, not disclosed the acts of doctor Jha on that venomous moment when Rosy was born. She had not shared the truth even when they were emotionally prepared to exchange their blood and veins.

“How can I tell him now?” she cried, regretting upon her mistakes. She consoled herself by recollecting her English teacher referring Katherine Mansfield words “Make it a rule of life never to regret and never to look back. Regret is nothing but a waste of time.” She found herself entangled in a web of confusion, albeit without fear. She was, sans doubt, in a cryptic dilemma.

Resting her bare elbows on the railings of the balcony, Jaya eased herself on the seat. It was a bright and sunny day. Yet, she was away from the sun. The warm penumbra of the eaves provided a comfortable relaxation. Her restless eyes roved around the forecourt down below. A middle-aged man strolled to the forecourt and looked up at the balcony. Jaya confronted a friendly simpering. She summoned the man up to the balcony.

“Who could be this man? Why did I summon a stranger?” she said to herself, as the trudged up.

“Madam, there is a letter for you,” said the man in a respected way, proffering the enveloped epistle. By the time Jaya moved to fetch a chair for him, the visitor had already walked down the steps. He soon skedaddled from the scene. It looked like he was in a hasty mission to a distant nearness.

Jaya stood lifeless; thoughtless to be exact, for a while, panting, and still holding the letter in her hand. She opened the envelop with a heavy heart using her skilful fingers. The contents in a good long-hand added fuel to fire that had been burning inside her, on one hand, and provided a blissful experience that was first of its kind in her life, She, as a matter of fact, conceived the sensitivity of human’s periphery.

She came to know how good judges the layman could be. She came to realize the limits of the expectations of the stoic onlookers, from her end. She felt great ^_____ simply great.

“Nurse, you are great. The aroma of your selfless hard work is with us. It is mingled with the satisfaction of the hoi polloi en masse. They are singing eulogies of praise for your committed work and they shall forever. The community has found in you a replica of God. That’s why you are great. You are a HEALER,” read a paragraph of the letter. She felt restless.

“What am I to do now?” she asked the vacuum in front of her.

“Oh, God! Tell me as what should I do at this moment. Should I breathe the oath? Should I let the approaching hazardous act take its own course?” she said, sobbing and ultimately seeking God’s help.

“How do you look at the deeds of the humans, Lord? How do you grade a person’s acts? How do you categorize my deeds or how have you graded them? Is the package of my deeds a virtue or vice? What should I choose ^_____ duty or cooperation? Obligation or truth?” Jaya rumbled, still holding the letter in her hand.

“Excuse me,” came a voice, “who is in there?” from outside.

“Hello, who is that? Please come up to the balcony,” said Jaya, sotto voce, folding the letter. The stranger ascended the steps, clacking the soles of his morocco boots on the well-polished wooded steps.

“Nurse,” he said, “I have come to invite you. I am Nishan’s nephew. My uncle’s son, Roshan, is getting married this May 16. Everyone feels that your presence and blessings would cheer up the young couple. So, do come,” said the messenger, getting ready to leave.

Invitation to the wedding ceremony invited, yet, another issue to ponder. She felt that the reality had dipped its claws on her. And, doctor Jha’s words flooded her head. She decided to disclose the reality, come hell or high water.

“It’s a crime to demean the truth and inflate falsity. No one can escape from the repercussions of this crime. I would have kept quiet and digested the so-called artificial reality had it been a minor one. This is a colossal one, indeed. God, if this falsity affects anyone, let it be me, and me alone. I am prepared to accept it.”

She heaved a sigh of relief and stretched her arms at shoulder height.

“Jaya, speak the truth. You have to stop a likely catastrophe,” she heard a blurred voice from nowhere_____ from the air.

“What will be the consequence if I speak the truth? She whispered, pondering over the bitter truth and the e probable effects.

“Let it happen what has been destined unto me. I shall try to explain and convince the parents of both Rosy and Roshan. Let my efforts not be counted as a spiritual error. To believe me or not is not my hassle. I shall perform I, as a human being, have to. If they disbelieve my words and go ahead with their plans, Machiavellian or otherwise, then I will have nothing to say. I am sure they will use the gumption and ponder. My aim is to ameliorate the, otherwise, deteriorating situation.”

She recalled and she could remember her presence in the maternity ward that night well-nigh twenty years back.

“Even if I have to bear the penalty for the oath I had taken in the name of duty and help, I am prepared to accept it at any degree. Let not the innocent and ignorant parents commit a consanguineous crime.”

The next day turned out further scorching. Jaya sat on the balcony with a cup of coffee. She had a sui generis habit of having a cup of exceptionally strong coffee. No one had dared to ask her why she opted to go for it.

She flipped through the pages of the newspapers. She had a paid-boy to deliver the paper early in the morning to her house. She had hung a cane basket on the wall on the ground floor. The deliverer dropped the paper into it.

Her eyes fell on the sweet lines of Annie Dillard that were quoted in the editorial.

“There is no shortage of good days.

Its good lives that is hard to come by.”

She, then, remembered she had a day ahead of her. It was a day of her rest.

“I must visit Rosy’s parents,” she murmured, flipping the pages of the paper.

“Woh!” she screamed, all of a sudden. She had elbowed coffee cup that dropped on the floor. The coffee splattered but the cup remained safe. It had to be so, ironically.

At 9.30 a.m. Jaya started from home for Rosy’s house. She held an umbrella over her head.

“The day is going to be scorching,” she mumbled. She walked a slow and easy pace.

“Good Morning, auntie,” Rosy wished and greeted her with a smile on her titillating face.  However, she looked a bit addled. She summoned Jaya inside the house.

The house was clean. It looked like it had taken days to get the rooms shipshape.

Rosy, then, was a girl of late teens ^_____ just touched her twenties. She had been brought up in laps and luxuries, being the only daughter of her parents. Her five brothers were all married, then.

Just then, Deepak walked in. he carried a bucket of milk. The well-behaved Rosy helped her father. She walked to the kitchen carrying the bucket.

It wasn’t difficult for Jaya to guess what next?

Soon Jaya and Deepak engrossed themselves in an informal tête-à-tête.

“Any special purpose of your visit, nurse? Your worthy presence in our house sprinkles elixir in it. We feel ourselves blessed,” said Deepak, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“There are few people who have earned name and fame through their diligence and selfless work for the society. And, gentle nurse, you are on top. You have won the hearts of the commoners through your social work. You have earned such a recognizable fame that no others could. You are praise-worthy ^____ you deserve accolades, nurse,” spoke Deepak, confiding in her.

He called Rosy.

“Yes, daddy! I am on the way,” she replied from the kitchen. It, ostensibly, looked like she understood the substance of her father’s call.

“Rosy is our only daughter, who was born after many years of our tearful prayers to the Almighty. We have a desire; in fact, the only desires, to make her somebody like you. She is not bad in books as well. She has recently completed the Bachelor’s degree in humanities.”

He stopped all of a sudden. He heaved a deep sigh of relief. Before Jaya started, he resumed speaking.

“But we have arranged her marriage.”

Jaya cut him short and said, “Why is the haste, anyway? Isn’t she still young?”

Deepak’s face displayed lines of nervousness.

“It’s our duty to carry out or obligation,” he said, scratching his cinnamon-leaved ear.

“She wants to pursue her studies after the marriage,” he added.

Jaya listened with concentration. It was difficult for her to hold the suffocated flame that was trying to erupt from within her like an irate volcano. Who could understand her feelings?

She broke the momentary silence.

“I have, in fact, come here to give a piece of marriage counseling. I know I am indebted to you all in the community. It’s all because of your collective prayers and blessings, support and cooperation that I am in this state today.”

She looked at Deepak. He looked an avid listener.

“I have, if things go as per my plans, come to take you and Rosy’s mother to Nishan’s house. I thought I would sit with the four of you and share something. I am getting really paranoid about what you all are scheming,” said Jaya, trying to study Deepak’s perky mood.

Nishan, the would-be father-in-law of Rosy, lived five miles away from Deepak’s house to further west.

Just then, Rosy walked into the room. She offered a glass of hot milk each to the two of them.

She stood and listened to the conversation with suspicious ears.

“Isn’t the nurse trying to interfere in our marriage?” she whistled, expressing her suspicion and getting really paranoid. She felt a bit insecure as well. Then, she remembered the words of Roshan.

“Rosy, no matter what comes and goes in our lives, we shall live together forever.” She controlled the tears around the eyeballs.

“No! No! Jaya cannot stop our marriage,” she said to herself, holding the unseen bag of fear and apprehension.

“I am sure marriage is made in heaven and the Maker ain’t sitting on the fence,” said she, looking like a lonely sourpuss.

Jaya took a sip of milk. She looked at Rosy who stood like a startled doe in front of a famished tigress.

Jaya continued her story.

“I should have disclosed everything here itself. But I prefer to tell to four of you at a go. I am sure my disclosure to the four together would help both the families; and, Rosy and Roshan in particular. Today I must tell a fact that has to do with the truthfulness of a person. Something that overshadows one’s obligation! I have experienced something hard and subtle for twenty good years and it’s a must that I told you before its too late. It’s better late than never. A small smidgen of timely medicine can save life from nearing its end.”

Rosy joined Jaya and her parents. They chatted as friends as they drank milk. The three of them, soon after, left for Nishan’s house while the obedient Rosy stayed back to finish the household chores.

Nishan, who liked sun-bathing, sat on the forecourt and amused his pet, the black tomcat. His eyes fell on a group of people led by the nurse, approaching towards his house. He jerked himself and stood up from the straw-covered stool. In a jiffy, he arranged a set of bamboo chairs on the sunny forecourt. Welcoming them, he gestured them to take the seats.

There was a hush in the forecourt pro tem. A flock of domestic fowls could be seen scratching ground. Their craws looked semi-filled. An Australian heifer could be seen in a cowshed a little away and a pair of oxen chewed the cud in a lazy way. And, in that silent moment, Jaya felt the absence of Nishan’s wife.

“I am glad to hear about Roshan’s wedding. It’s a good piece of news, anyway, albeit, not for all. By the way, where is Roshan’s mother? How about calling her to joining us if she is around? I have come here with an intention that intends to mend.”

Complete silence once again enveloped the scene. Eight eyes met one another, in turns. Jaws raised and lips tightened. It was an eerie moment for all.

“Doctor Jha, who was the superintendent in the hospital and the boss of the dismal hour, had me take an oath. And I always preserved it. Today I am going to disclose. Today the cruel circumstances have created situations unimaginable.

Nishan’s son, Roshan, is going to marry his own sister, Rosy. I must confess the truth no matter what comes or goes. Confession is the first step to repentance, and, I shall….’” whispered Jaya. She recalled that day ^____ when Rosy and Roshan were born as twins twenty years back in a hospital ward.

She furthers the scene in the ward that moment…..

Deepak’s wife and Nishan’s wife were admitted coincidentally or otherwise, in a hospital on the same day and at the same hour in the same ward. And, God, I should say, was a bit unfair at that hour of the clock.

Deepak’s wife, who already had five sons and who wanted a daughter, gave birth to twins [a boy and a girl]. Nishan’s wife, who wanted a son, gave birth to a still baby. She already had six daughters and desired to have a son.

Doctor Jha, in order to fulfill the desires of both the mothers, decided to separate the twins and allocate one each to each mother while the mothers lay unconscious. He knew their respective choice through professional experience. Thus, he had placed the baby boy in the hands of Nishan’s wife, while removing the still one. The baby girl remained with Deepak’s wife.

Stream of tears rolled down her eyes. She visualized a sister getting married to her own brother. She cried ^____ the painful tears. Yet, she tactfully concealed the salty drops from the group. She again recounted doctor Jha’s words.

”How many more attempts will these mothers make, for a son or a daughter respectively? If I place a baby each according to their desire, their happiness will continue for yonks. Each one of them will feel blessed. Let them come to their early consciousness,” he had pronounced.

Jaya moved her eyes around. There was still a blank seat waiting for Nishan’s wife.

Doctor Jha’s words further deluged her head.

“This, this blessing in disguise shall be a living lesson to the mankind. There are the make-believe originalities in the world. Just keep the truth with you. It’s our coalesced effort in helping both the mothers. It’s our obligation, as professionals, to help mankind. It is bitter, at times, but we have to move by the call of time. Don’t reveal this hazardous truth to anyone nor will I. This is our pious oath,” he had said. Jaya had obediently accepted his advice and taken an oath to preserve the secret at all times.

She remembered how doctor Jha had whispered into her ears, sotto voce, while the mothers still lay unconscious.

Roshan’s mother came and joined the group. Jaya’s heart started to pound and tremble. She had to break the oath and speak out the bitter truth.

“I must help these families from decaying, even if it at he cost of my professional duty,” she said to herself, looking at Roshan’s mother and smiling at her.

The five of them seemed to relish the midday sun. Surrounded by the ephemeral silence, they stared at each other. And, in a little while Jaya started the confession of the tale of the twins.

The four souls stayed calm and listened to Jaya’s tale.

I vividly remember that moment when Rosy and Roshan were born as twins in the hospital ward. I would have stopped Doctor Jha having a card up his sleeve of separating the twins…..”

No sooner had she spoken ‘….. Roshan in place of the still baby,’ she collapsed due to sudden cardiac arrest.

Tags: Bhutanese Literature U Sharma