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Monday, Jan 24, 2000
Simpleton
by Padma Narayanan

I am a graduate of Osmania University. I was lucky that my first writing adventure- a short story- got selected by the Tamil Weekly 'Kalki' as one of the four stories chosen to participate in the World Short Story Competition that Kalki conducted in conjunction with The Berkley University, California. The next landmark in my writing career was my winning the first prize in the Kalki Silver Jubilee Short Story competion held in the year 1966..

Unfortunately, I suspended writing for nearly 20 years when I had to go over to Africa with my husband. Since my return to India towards the end of 1993, I have been trying to weild my pen again. Some of my articles and stories have appeared in the 'Eve's Touch'. I have in all written only about ten short stories and a few articles. My interest in both Tamil and English literature, and the welcome change in India in its attitude towards translations, have encouraged me to experiment in that field. I am now seriously engaged in translations from Tamil to English and vice versa. I have translated stories for USIS and the British Concil for their short story collections which are due to be published sometime this year. Orient longmans of India brought out a series of booklets for the young readers last year. In their series on world leaders I did for them the book on Abraham Lincoln and it has been published.I also contribute to 'Sulekha'.

My family - my husband, daughter (journalist) and son (lecturer and writer) are interested in literature and writing and give me all the support and encouragement in my writing attempts.

One of the deterrents to my writing previously was the fact that I had to depend on somebody to type my hand-written manuscripts. Now, thanks to the home computer, I'm able to compose and edit straightaway on the computer and print or e-mail them

Periamma was hanging out the clothes. It was a cool day and the sun could not really enter Champa's sanctum- the washing stone by the well-side for it was well shaded by the luscious growth of banana plants on one side and healthy looking gourds hanging down from a canopy built of sticks on the other; it provided an idyllic setting for her to sit day-dreaming or read as the fancy took her. She was embroiled in one of the romantic situations so subtly presented by Thi. Janakiraman. This romantic interlude was broken by Periamma's question, "What have you decided about last week's alliance? They have given their consent and we can't keep them waiting any longer".

There was no evidence at all of Champa having heard her. Periamma was irritated. "It's not as if you are the most beautiful girl around, with polish and education and all that to boot. How will I ever make you understand your situation? You are not in a position to pick and choose? The boy is good looking and.."
Champa cut in laughing, "He has the looks and you have the money to bribe them; What a perfect match!"
Periamma flared up. "You talk like a know-all but you know what the people of this village call you?"
"Of course, I do. I am the village simpleton, ain't I?"
Periamma scowled; "and yet you sit there so happily without any shame or remorse! I do not know what to make of you."
"Don't try."
Periamma gave up in despair.

Champa was indeed an enigma to the people of her village. She kept herself aloof from the neighbourhood women and girls whose only pastime seemed to be gossiping. Even when she did participate in their conversations, she came up with such tongue-in-cheek statements that her audience was either astounded by her remarks or felt nonplussed- unable to make head or tail of her pronouncements. What they did not comprehend was of course to be classified as nonsense and Champa became the simpleton who could come up with such foolish talk. Their opinion did not matter to Champa a wee bit and she enjoyed their discomfiture when she was with them. Her world was different; the world where she was the heroine, her books her close companions, and her mental space the arena where any number of acts of an unending drama was enacted. Having lost her parents very early in her life, she had come to live with her aunt-Periamma- a child widow, who doted on her and whose entire life revolved around her. Conservative in her outlook, Periamma would not allow her niece, to go on her own to the nearby town to continue with her studies after Champa passed out of the village school topping her class of students. It was not as if the girl had any pretensions to beauty with her dark, thin reed-like figure, but according to Periamma a girl was a girl and had to be protected from prowlers. Champa's only source of enlightenment and entertainment was the district library of the nearby town to which she was allowed to go accompanied by a servant. Champa gorged herself on whatever books she could lay hands on and led a rather contented life amidst the characters of her books. In her imaginary world, the values were different, the codes of conduct were different and beauty and wealth and culture- all took on new connotations. She very early in her life decided she was not going to ever look 'beautiful' and stopped giving it any consideration whatsoever. Her Periamma tried her best to get her interested in dresses, make-up, ornaments and what not, hoping all the time she would somehow learn to make her appearance more presentable, but in vain. Her total indifference to her appearance and her uncommunicative attitude earned her the nickname 'simpleton' from her village people.

Getting Champa married was Periamma's only aim in life. Periamma spent hours of agony trying to get the girl interested in the various proposals that helpful friends and relatives suggested for her. It was not that Champa would come out with strong objections about any particular alliance or throw tantrums when the 'girl-seeing' occasions were arranged for her. She was simply disinterested. Just the previous week, Raja (true to his name -looking very (handsome) and his widowed mother had come to 'see' her. The way he kept looking with admiration at the antique pieces of furniture in that house, spending less than a minute to glance at her and conspicuously assessing the worth of the house and its contents clearly showed her where his interests lay. His mother also seemed very impressed with the list of things Periamma was prepared to give her niece as dowry. The girl did not matter to them at all. It did not to Champa either! What surprised her most was that the generally shrewd Periamma suddenly had become naïve enough not to see through the motives of the 'boy' and his mother. Was Periamma naïve or chose to remain so? Very soon the wedding of Champa and Raja took place with a lot of pomp and fanfare. The girls of marriageable age of that village and their parents were all stewing in their own envy at the 'simpleton's' luck; "He is so handsome; how could he..? Don't the two look like clean white rice and black sesame seeds put side by side?" After the marriage, Periamma made the couple visit all the temples around their village to ward off evil eye and to be assured of a 'happy, prosperous married life' for her niece.

Her marriage did not bring about any spectacular change in Champa's life, except that she had to leave Periamma to be on her own. One could not assess how much of Periamma's homilies-big and small- had penetrated Champa's consciousness, but Champa was not a difficult person. The thing that was important to her was that there were a couple of good libraries in her new neighbourhood. The usually placid Champa, surprised her mother-in-law by her firm, no-nonsense attitude when she told the older woman that after finishing her house-work, she would walk down to the library as often as she wanted to. Books she had in plenty and a private place too- the backyard of the house with a small wash area and the washing-stone, throne of Vikramaditya, for her to sit and ponder and generally live a parallel life to her heart's content. She did initially worry about how she would be able to cope with a man's attentions and intrusions into her privacy. She sincerely hoped she would in time learn to understand and appreciate that stranger with whom she seemed to have not much in common. But she need not have worried; the very first night in their new house, her husband had not come home in the evening and her mother-in-law went to bed at her usual hour saying, "Open the door if he comes." In the course of the next few days, Champa realised from various hints dropped intentionally or otherwise by her husband and mother-in-law that he had a pretty girl - a rani to his rajan-ness - tucked somewhere else and had all his appetites catered to in a very satisfactory manner. This might have upset Champa had he been a more sensitive, caring individual. But both he and his mother were selfish, greedy people with whom she could never have any sort of communication. She was indeed relieved that she would be left to herself if she did not raise a hue and cry about her state of affairs. Her life in her inner recesses of her consciousness continued; with a real person endowed with qualities she appreciated and admired. That mental country was also populated by other friends and relatives- an Utopia as it were.

Champa was careful not to let Periamma have any inkling of her plight. Whenever Periamma turned up at her house, laden with gifts of various kinds, her mother-in-law would only sit there gaping at the bounty and was quite attentive to the visitor. She would see that Champa did no work when Periamma was there and talk to the girl with words dripping honey. Champa would enjoy those days when, for a change she could relax and be attended on by the older lady. She would marvel at that avatar of her mother-in-law and wonder why she did not try out her histrionic talents in the media! 'Wouldn't she have easily got the best actress award?' This arrangement suited Champa very well because Periamma went back after her visit completely satisfied that her darling niece was lucky to have made such an alliance! If ever Periamma had cause to know the truth, she would have died immediately of guilt and sorrow. Though Periamma went around giving her niece all credit for having adjusted to and fitted in so perfectly in her new home, the villagers attributed her luck to her stars, saying, "Simpletons have all the luck in the world; a tough in-law and the girl would have come back the third day."

A year passed. Periamma had a fall and a fracture. That had to be the reason for her death. When she needed someone to attend to her, Champa's husband and mother-in-law sent her away gladly; in fact they were more anxious than Champa that she should be with Periamma at that time; "just in case something happens, if you are not careful, there will be so many vultures waiting to grab the wealth. New claimants will appear from nowhere from Periamma's husband's family. You have to be alert. If you need any help send word to us and we'll be there at once" 'Yes. Indeed they would be there, for were they not the biggest vultures of them all?'- thought Champa. Periamma died and the whole village watched in wonder while Champa made sure that she got every single pie and piece of all that Periamma had owned. "She'll make simpletons of us all; look how shrewd she is!" was the general testimony. And yes, Champa was, indeed careful that everything that was Periamma's now became her husband's. She felt that her husband and mother-in-law deserved the windfall for having accepted her into their house and given Periamma a lot of mental peace during her last days. She had a home(?) and the freedom to inhabit her own world and what price could be too big to buy that?

Champa went back to her position as the unpaid servant of her husband's house. To be fair to her mother-in-law, it must be said that the lady did not get any more vicious after the wealth had come into her son's hands. She let Champa be; as long as the housework got done to her satisfaction, of course. It is said that the sins people do decide whether one has an easy death or not. Whatever Champa's mother-in-law was - good or bad - she just went to bed one night and never woke up. It was pitiable to see her husband looking all alone and abandoned. The mother had been his sole support encouraging him to be whatever he had come to be. Virtues and vices lost their boundaries when it came to her son. Her only aim in life had seemed to be to take care of her son's needs - material, emotional, physical - whatever they might have been. That mother had, indeed, loved her son very well and wisely too, seeing that no care ever had crossed the son's brow. Champa felt truly sorry for her husband and wondered if she would be able to fill at least partly the void that had come up in his life.

Ceremonies and rites prescribed by our societies to be gone through during the first couple of weeks after a death, do really act as catharsis and ease one's return to normal living. The endless stream of visitors-relatives and friends - (where had they been all these days?), the innumerable repetitions of what the deceased was and was not, the gentle slipping of her into eternity, - Champa lost count of the number of times her husband had spoken the words, but she saw that it helped preserve his sanity. 'Poor man, what's he going to do now?'- Champa wondered.

The activities came to an end at last , the guests all left and Champa was alone with her husband in that house for the first time. 'Would he slip away that evening too?' No. he did not leave the house after sundown as he usually did. 'He, too is a human being; he does care about my being alone in this house; I must assure him that I'll be alright here and he can go back to his routine once more'- thought Champa.

Dinner was over and the kitchen all cleaned up and got ready for the next day. Champa locked up the kitchen, came out into the hall and started spreading out her mat. It had been an exhausting fortnight for her, physically and emotionally. She sat on her bed and felt her spine tingling. She turned around to see her husband standing at the door to his room and almost leering at her. Champa went red in her face. (Or is it blue that the dark faces become on such (occasions?) and stood up flustered. "Why don't you come and sleep inside the room?", he asked. For the first time in her life Champa was at a loss - lost completely with no clue as to what she should do then. She opened the kitchen door and hurried into the dark courtyard through the back door. She had to get to her 'place - the throne'. Only then would she be able to think or act clearly. Champa got back her equanimity quite soon and felt very much at peace with herself. But she continued sitting there through the night. When she went in during the early hours of the next morning she found the front door shut and the house empty. She picked up a paper and pen and wrote, "I had thought that what you felt for your mother was genuine affection and respect, but I now find you only feared her. Whatever I thought I owed you, I have already given you; my price for a secure home and Periamma's mental peace. What I have left is not for you; you do not deserve it. I see the only way left to me now is to leave this house." She folded the paper and left it on his writing table.

When Champa left with a shoulder-bag slung across her shoulders, soon after, her neighbour who stood brushing his teeth in his yard, remarked rather loudly - not caring whether she heard him or not, perhaps to his wife in the kitchen, "Where is this simpleton off to, now? This early in the morning?"

Champa's legs hesitated just for a few seconds. Her inner consciousness, that had been her mentor and chaperon all along, egged her on, "I'm proud of the way I've shaped you. Go your way; I'll be your constant companion." Encouraged by her inner prompting Champa stepped on to the road, and walked leisurely on, enjoying the freshness of a new day.