Benign Flame: Saga of Love by BS Murthy (sci fi books to read TXT) 📖

cough up much more for your dowry,” reasoned Ramaiah.

“Then, I won’t marry at all,” she said with such a conviction that startled Ramaiah.

“Don’t be silly, the essence of life lies in its wholesomeness. You would realize later on, that nothing is worth in life to the exclusion of all the rest that makes it what it is. Above all, marriage is the key that opens life alike for the boys and the girls,” he said, showing her the reality of life.

“It’s my sole ambition naanna,” she persisted, hoping against hope.

“Ambition is a double-edged sword; possessed by the resourceful, it’s cut out for success and in the hands of the lesser souls, it hurts their peace of mind,” he turned to philosophy to help her depressed soul.

Then he recounted his own disappointment; his inability to become an advocate, and advocated to his daughter to learn to take life as it came, ordained by karma. “If I were an advocate, perhaps, I would have been rich enough to fulfill your ambition. However, it was not to be, and therein lies our fate - yours and mine as well,” he concluded.

Roopa, though reconciled to her situation, resented her fate. As if she were revenging on her helplessness, she shunned the sciences and opted for commerce. However, as per her inclination, Sandhya went in for the humanities.

“Are you tired of dissecting frogs and all?” said Sandhya in jest as Roopa filled in the admission form.

“Like to have a closer look at the material side of life,” said Roopa mystically.

“Jokes apart, tell me what’s wrong. I know you wanted to study medicine,” said Sandhya as they got into a rickshaw.

Roopa could only manage a deep sigh for an answer.

“They say a friend is one with whom you can think aloud and you know that’s what I do with you, but then it’s up to you,” said Sandhya empathically.

“Know I love you the most and yet somehow I wasn’t frank with you; but from now on, I’ll think aloud with you,” said Roopa earnestly, and blurted out.

Moved, Sandhya enlaced Roopa, which brought solace to the latter and induced warmth in the former, making both of them feel loved and wanted by the other.

Chandrika, who graduated that year, didn’t think in terms of post graduation as la affair Roopa gave the clue to her father’s mind and the family’s finances, and so, thought of a job for an occupation.

“Sit still till we fix a match as it might improve your complexion a bit, besides, I don’t want any complications, that’s all,” Janaki was dismissive.

When Chandrika persisted, Ramaiah, however, relented, and persuaded his wife,

“You’ve to change with the changing times. Moreover, some boys have started preferring employed girls for their brides.”

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, Chandrika got an assistant’s job in an export firm for a salary of two-fifty. Her first take-home pay, however, enabled her mother to appreciate the virtue of having another earning member in the family.

-------

Hardly a year passed before the ‘changing times’ stared the Ramaiahs in their faces in their complexity as ‘the other earning member’ of the family turned out to be an errant soul of the household.

Chandrika declared that she would like to marry her colleague, though of a lower caste, and Janaki threatened to jump into the well to spare herself, the shame of her daughter’s alliance. Ramaiah though tried to reason it out with Chandrika by saying that if she married out of caste, none would marry Roopa. Besides, it won’t be in her own interest either, to live with someone from a lower caste as adjusting to married life in an alien milieu will be all the more difficult. When the time comes for finding matches for her children, shunned by both the communities, she would realize that she had a cross to bear. Better she gave up the idea, for her own good.

Given her own disappointment, Roopa was empathic to her sister’s feelings and felt that she could understand the true import of Chandrika’s predicament.

“What to do now?” said Roopa to Chandrika having led her out into the backyard.

“I wish I weren’t in love,” said Chandrika stoically.

“That’s neither here nor there for you’ve to act one way or the other,” Roopa was solicitous.

“I may perish like the Buridan’s ass, unable to decide whether to first drink water or eat oats,” Chandrika was melancholic.

“Then why not try and forget him?” said Roopa.

“Time would do that for both of us but life without him is not what I want,” said Chandrika.

Roopa kept quiet as though inviting her sister to give vent to her feelings.

“I’m being pulled apart by the family sentiment on one side and the lure of love on the other; love seems to be the most compelling of human emotions as it combines in it the craving of the soul and the desires of the body,” said Chandrika melancholically.

“Oh, how you’re hurt!” said Roopa sympathetically.

“I don’t mind hurting myself but I’m worried about him and concerned about our mother. Moreover, how can I compromise your marriage prospects? That’s my dilemma,” said Chandrika dejectedly.

That her sister should think about her welfare, even in her predicament, melted Roopa’s heart.

‘If only I could help her love, what if, I marry out of turn to clear the hurdle?’ thought Roopa.

She felt she knew her parents well enough. They were conventional more for the society’s sake than out of personal conviction. Besides, they loved their children dearly. She was confident that all would welcome her idea. The prospect of her averting an imminent schism in the family appeared heroic to her.

‘How nice it can be,’ she thought excitedly, ‘if my sacrifice serves my sister’s cause besides solving my parents’ problem.’

Though she was pleased to perceive herself in the role of a martyr for the family cause, however, on second thoughts, she contemplated the implications of her marriage without a degree as she was just through the first year of what appeared to be a three-year ordeal.

‘How I nursed the dream of being a doctor,’ she thought melancholically. ‘Haven’t I come to love myself in that role? Now that the bubble has burst, I couldn’t care less. Hasn’t life become humdrum, anyway?’

As she recalled her own disappointment, she remembered her father’s words - your earnings would be your husband’s – and saw a ray of hope in the situation.

‘What if my husband helps my ambition to further the family income?’ she thought hopefully. ‘Who knows I may as well get an understanding husband. What a happy life I would lead then! Won’t I love him even more for that? Let me take a chance and see what lies in store for me. Anyway, I’ve nothing to lose, do I?’

It seems the feature of life that while darkness deprives man of his shadow; his hope lingers on in spite of the foreboding.

As Chandrika wept inconsolably, it seemed Roopa’s fear of the unknown was washed away in her sister’s tears. Thus having made up her mind, Roopa unveiled the contours of her plan of action, however, hiding the hope behind her apparent sacrifice and that about had the same effect on Chandrika, as sighting a boat in the high seas would have on a shipwreck; it raised her spirits. While Chandrika was profuse in articulating her gratitude, and as if to convey her indebtedness bodily as well, she hugged her sister, Roopa felt embarrassed as her own streak of selfish motive jarred with the purity of her sister’s outpouring.

It seems the attributes our hypocrisy induces others to adduce to us would bring no value addition to our own conscience.

However, as the sisters were confabulating without, Ramaiah had a tough time with his bitter half within.

“What went wrong with her brought-up? Nothing like this ever happened to anyone, even remotely related to us!” Janaki said puzzled.

“You know, women of the upper castes were insulated from men of the lower classes earlier,” he tried to explain the situation to her. “Social intercourse between caste groups was limited to the persons of the same sex. But all that has changed now. The society is truly open to both sexes from all sections. The pull of man woman attraction being what it is love has long since crossed the caste barrier causing marital trespasses. However, don’t get worried. For all that, her passion could be a passing phase, that can’t get past the first hurdle.”

Janaki prayed fervently for her daughter’s deliverance from that wretched affair. Just the same, when Roopa showed the silver lining, Ramaiah remained unenthusiastic.

“Inter-caste marriages would only lead to divorce as the couples tend to wind up the show at the first hitch; even otherwise, the inferior union would be ruinous in the end as they would be ostracized by the society for sure,” he articulated.

‘Though upper caste men would have no qualms having a fling with low caste women, they seek to shield their women from the men of that very stock,’ thought Chandrika, but said,

“I’m prepared for any eventuality.”

“After all, it’s her life; why not let her decide for herself?” said Raju, who was particularly fond of Chandrika and Roopa.

“Don’t oversimplify matters. What are the parents for if not to prevent their children’s follies?” retorted Ramaiah.

“You say everything in life is ordained by karma, so why not take this as her destiny?” interjected Roopa.  

Ramaiah didn’t respond but remained unrelenting.

The sisters pressed the issue, and went on a hunger strike. The mother’s heart melted soon enough, and the father’s resolve dissolved, in due course. It was thus, Ramaiah wanted to have ‘a look at the fellow’ and see for himself, ‘What he’s worth?’

Soon the word went around that Ramaiah was on the lookout for a suitable boy for Roopa.

 

Chapter 3

Hapless Hope

 

It was a two-storied building in a by-lane of Chikkadapally, a rather congested locality in Hyderabad. Its owner, Padmavathi, was a widow in her early fifties. She let out much of the space to bachelors ‘to augment her pension’ as she was wont to maintain.

“Being elsewhere all the while, bachelors are a better bet for they cause much little wear and tear,” she would aver. 

Her tenants, for their part, showed an unmistakable preference for her dwelling. With both her daughters married off, and with no one at home, she rarely left the reclining chair in the portico.

“The rent includes watch and ward for the lady doubles up for a watchdog,” the lodgers joked amongst themselves.

And for her part, Padmavathi made it clear to them all that she would suffer none of any nonsense. Though she used to aver that all boys were equally dear to her, she was partial towards Sathyam, her tenant for well over six years. While believing that Sathyam was sincere by nature she felt that others were only behaving not to risk eviction.

Having been held up at his desk in the Sate Secretariat that evening, Sathyam was late in coming to his lodging. Not finding Padmavathi in the portico, he was a little surprised. As he went up, he found an inland letter in the door latch. Realizing that it was from his father, he hastened into his room, and even as he started reading it again, he heard footsteps on the stairs.

‘Oh, she’s coming up; how she craves for news and gathers it as a rag picker would collect rubbish from all corners!’ he thought indignantly.

“What writes Pathrudugaru?” she said panting slightly.

“Usual stuff; we’re Ok, are you Ok?” he replied dryly.  

“It’s time you got married,” she said zeroing on the subject matter of his father’s letter, as if on cue.

“He says there’s a match,” he replied reflexively.

“One should get married when still young,” she said, and added as though to justify her plain features. “But do remember the old adage; a lovely wife brings in anxiety for she attracts all and sundry.”

Having given him a bit of her mind, as she left abruptly, as though she were already late for airing the news, Sathyam read the appetizing portion of his father’s letter once again:

‘We all feel there is a