The Blood

Name - Diwakar Narayan

Author Introduction - A former teacher of English Grammar (though I have started forgetting the basics now) and a great admirer of English Language, I took on blogging to show my skills to the virtual world and nick-named myself as Infected Mind. However, having stepped in, I found that I deserved less than the place of a fish in the ocean. Since then, I have been trying to polish my skills to attain the position of a fish. I have no great job and high education to boast of. Philosophically, a God hater who wants to see how life could be, not believing in Him at all.

Story

Let me be permitted to share with you an incident which holds paramount significance in my life. Not because it relates to my personal life, but for the reason that it deals with the acceptance of a supposedly dead man, my husband, into my life and that of my family. They say that dead men do not return and such was my belief when I was almost convinced that my eyes would not see him ever again; a man in his military attire, with three stars hanging proudly on his chest, denoting of his higher rank and awards of bravery in numerous wars, would only come to my dreams for the rest of my life.

The night when his arrival was destined was a chilly one. I lay on my bed, recollecting the joyous moments I spent with him. Each night, it was only after his smiling face flashed in front of me, inside my eyelids, sleep overcame me. Then, my son was not home, for he went for an outing with his college-mates. When I was about to enter the world of my dreams, into the strong arms of my love, I heard the ring of my door bell, and thinking that my son might have returned, as his trip might have been cancelled for some reason, I rose from my bed and walked to the gate.

I could not believe my eyes for what I saw that night. A man stood there in the same attire as my husband with two heavy looking bags beside him and packed bedding on his back. He looked exactly as my soul-mate, with only distinctions in the long hair and unshaven beard that I saw on him. The formal sense my husband contained lacked in the man standing at my door. I thought for a while: even if my husband grew his hair and beard, he could not return; for dead men do not come back. It must have been another insane dream of mine. I closed the door and proceed towards my bed to be alone again.

The doorbell rang again. I stopped and looked back at the door. Unsure what to do, I opened it and saw the same man again. Now, I was confirmed that I was not dreaming, for dreams are not repeated in the same night. This time, he spoke to me: “Janvi, will you not recognize me?”

It was real. His voice was real. I touched him and the touch was real. Tears rolled down my cheeks instantly. Reality sometimes gives more pleasure than dreams do. Words refused to come out of my mouth. It was my husband. His hands approached my face and wiped the drops of happiness off; and holding my face with his shaking hands, he said again: “Janvi, will you still not recognize me?”

In no time, I buried my face in his chest. I was over the moon and crying.

We remained as a coupled statue for some time and after I regained my strength to speak, I looked up at his face and could say: “Come inside.”

He first lifted both the bags and hanged them from his shoulders, then me in his arms and walked towards our bedroom. Then, having placed me in bed and the bags on the ground, he whispered: “God knows how five years I could spend without you, each day and night I thought of you and of returning to you, let me now be absorbed in you again, my existence be merged with yours and form one soul with two bodies.”

His lips touched mine and not sure how long we remained so. When the unity was broken momentarily, I rose from the bed again and proceed towards the main gate, this time to close it to be with him.

*****

The night was a blessed one. Till very late, we remained into each other, silent now and talking then. The chirping of birds and his snoring started at the same time. Smiling, I rose from the bed and engaged myself in the household chores.

I decided to skip my office that day. Since the time I heard the news of my husband being missing from the troops, the entire burden rested on my shoulder. The household expenses and the upbringing of my twelve-year old son were what made me take up a job of a receptionist in a firm. The income was not hefty, but enough for the two of us. Now, that he had come back, he would take care of all affairs, I thought so. Beaming and roaming, I finished the daily chores; and with two cups of tea on a tray, that my hands held, I entered our bedroom. It was almost after fives long years that we would sip together.

Having placed the tray on the table, I looked at my husband. So peacefully he slept, away from the noise of bombings and firings. For a second, I decided not to break his slumber; for the next second, my strong desire to sip together drew me near his face and made me say: “Get up, sweetheart.”

I saw no movement in him. Then, I noticed the drops of perspiration on his forehead. Why was he sweating in a cold morning? I pulled myself back, stood there and fixed my eyes on his face. After a while, he began to murmur, something I could not understand, and then suddenly shouted “No”. It was a long shout, and the very next moment, he was sitting on the bed and huffing to the peak.

*****

The time of evening was near. Both of us expected our son soon. Sudeep, who had faint memories of his father, going to the battlefield, would soothe his eyes by the presence of his father in front of him, and jump in joy; for he remained deprived of fatherly love for five years.  A boy needs a father and a girl a mother to share all they have with no feeling of being betrayed and no secrets of them being busted to unintended ears. The father and the son would unite, sit and chat for hours; and be called on the dinner table at night – and – as they would enter the dining room, engrossed in serious conversations related to the nation and the world, I would sweetly chide them to come back home and taste food, which I laid in numerous plates. Such would be the routine every day and night – life will be as good as it was before. Sudden realization of my having gone too far in my thoughts stuck me when Sudeep entered the house.

My husband and I sat, waiting for him, when he arrived. He saw us and stood silent, skipping the kiss that he would gently place on my forehead when he came from outside. The reason for it, perhaps, was he never saw me with a man after his father left and now someone was inside my house at the time of his arrival. He must have understood nothing of the situation; and understanding his state of mind, I explained: “Sudeep, this is your father!”

These words fell like a thunderstorm for him, for his expressions changed. He was delighted, dumbfounded, skeptical, all at the same time. Believe it or not, too good to be true, not believing one’s eyes, all these salient linguistic expressions applied to him at once. The only word which could slip from his lips was: “Dad?”

Lt. Dilip Singh emptied his chair and stood there, with arms open, inviting his son to give him a hug. Then, the only think I saw was the wet eyes of my husband.

*****

That night, when dinner was served on the table, conversations started. Sudeep sounded much curious to know all what happened during the five years Dilip was absent for. He ate less and spoke more. One thing, I noticed strange, was his father’s avoidance in giving detailed answer to anything he asked. Dilip seemed to escape from all the curiosity his son had. This behavior reached its peak when Dilip almost reproved his son –

“Sudeep, you ought not to know all that I faced in these fives. Know your boundaries, my son, and talk respectfully and obediently to your father. Don’t probe too much and irritate me!”

Dilip left the dining table and retired to the bedroom. Disbelievingly, I looked at my son; and he at me.

*****

Sleep abandoned me the whole night. I kept thinking of my husband’s behavior at the dining table and tried to relate this with the cause of his sudden perspiration and shout, which happened that morning. Was he in any trouble that he did not want to share with us or it was for something else? Whatever the reason was, I had to discover it. So, I would talk to him in the morning; so I decided and closed my eyes.

*****

At the morning time, when the three of us enjoyed the tea, my husband said: “Janvi and Dilip, I have a plan for today. Let’s go to the town and shop as much as we can possibly carry back home.”

Now, this plan of him seemed uncalled for both for me and my son; for I had to go to my office and Sudeep to his college. I confess now, I had no courage to say no to him, for he had been a strict man all his life; but for Sudeep, who was a kid when my husband left us, stood calmly from his chair and addressed his father: “Papa, let’s do this on Sunday. I have my college to attend.”

I looked at Dilip. His face was reddened and his body shook with anger. He, who never experienced being disobeyed, stood up and shouted at his son: “Sudeep, stop! Stand there and listen to me. Dare you move a step and I slap you!”

Sudeep seemed not to have heard a single word of his father. He moved out of the veranda and then from the house.

Yet another shock for Dilip it was, after the dinner-table clash, for he expected his orders to be followed blindly by his son and me. I could do so; my son could not. If the ruling of a nation is handed over to a bunch of teenagers, the ruling would prove to be of utmost excellence; for they do not bear any wrong happenings around them and this was the reason my son had disobeyed his father and walked out.

“Calm down, Dilip.” I tried to appease my husband.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, I thought of missing my office for that day as well. The idea was to give my husband some time and understand what he went through. For this, I had to be with him. However strict and formal a man is, he can hide no secret from a naked woman he sleeps with. I stood up, held his hand and gestured to take him inside. He walked a few steps with me and stopped, then said: “You go to office now, and before you go, hand over the keys to me. I will go out and get some fresh air. My home is a home no more, but a house.”

*****

In the evening, Dilip was in the garden, which flourished in front of our small bungalow and watered the flower-plants. He paid no heed to my arrival. I went straight into the house and prepared tea for him. He must have been alone the whole day and not had tea. I thought so and invited him inside, upon which he refused and requested to be served in the garden, upon which I placed two chairs there and sat beside him. This was the perfect time to talk.

Silence prevailed for some time before Dilip started the conversation.

“Why did our son show such insolence to me in the morning?” He asked.

“Dilip, you must understand, Sudeep is still a boy. He wants to live his life on his own terms. Further, what rude words did he speak to you? It was just a suggestion, in my view, and also, he must attend his college, for his studies are not to be interrupted.”

“Dilip”, I continued, “tell me, if you have anything in your mind that you wish to share with me, in an attempt to lessen the burden you feel in your heart; for being your wife and life-partner, I shall entitle myself to share every bit of happiness and sorrow that you feel. Do not hesitate, dear; tell me if something bothers you.”

My husband looked at me lovingly and expectantly, such a look instilled a belief of his trust in me and I drew closer to him to listen to what he would say.

“Janvi, for five years, I remained inside a closed chamber, as a captive of the war I was part of, with a want and a wish coming to my mind and heart alternatively. The want of death and the wish of returning home were the two mental states I lived in. Now, that I have come back to my home, the wishes are still more or less the same but altered only with a word or two. I find myself unable to cope up with the civilized life of yours; and wish to die or want to return to my troops, if allowed.”

I could sense acute pain in each word he spoke. I drew closer to him and hugged him from aside. The empty tea cups, placed on the ground, seemed to empathize with us, with their mouths open to store any drop of tear which might fall any moment from the eyes of either of us.

*****

It was time for me to talk to my son. He must have been very disturbed by the anger his father showed to him. Not once, but twice. All the time when Dilip was not here, I was the one, who was his mother and father. He used to discuss all his affairs with me – affairs of his college, his friends, the gossips and everything that attracted his attention. We spent hours together, inside and outside, and became good friends with each other. Friendship of us was stronger than the mother-son bond, and for this reason, I was sure I would be able to convince him to accept his father the way he was and be in good terms with him.

Late at night, when he returned home, freshened up and had dinner, I followed him till his bed and sat beside him. Though this was not the ideal time for what I was going to discuss with him, I persuaded myself to do so. Things getting any sour further would have been perilous for my family.

“Sudeep, can I ask you something?” I started.

“Yes, mama; why do you look so tensed?”

“Listen, my darling, your father is quite disturbed at your denial of his proposal of this morning. All his life he has seen his orders to be obeyed and suggestions to be followed. The way you walked out today was much unexpected for him. I think you should not have behaved in such a way.”

“Mama, I don’t believe you. How can you advocate for him in spite of knowing that it was he who behaved strangely. There was no point of being so rude and shouting at me. What seems wrong in what I said? This is not his military campus but my home.”

“I know, son, but you must not forget that he is your father, the first man of this family.”

“You know, mama, he is not my father. Certainly not the same man I saw when I was a kid. How I wish I had a sober father that I could boast of... and one more thing! I would like no discussion on this anymore.”

With such words spoken, Sudeep turned his back to me and pulled the blanket over him. For a few minutes, I sat there silently, and then moved to my bedroom.

I was blank now.

****

A few days later, when there was a holiday on eve of some religious festival, I decided that we would go to the town for shopping. Dilip would agree soon, but I was unsure of Sudeep’s decision. Given his behavior with his father since the day he arrived, I was in dilemma whether to ask him or not. Finally, for the sake of my husband’s happiness, I asked my son: “Will you come with us for shopping today?”

He gave me a stern look and then smiled with a nod: “ok”. Soon after the smile, his face returned to seriousness. It was for me, not for his father, that he had agreed.

When we reached the town and were walking towards our shopping destination, we noticed a fight between two laborers on the roadside. Dilip moved to them and tried to understand the cause of it. When the fight started to become tense, he intervened and when objected for his intervention, he angrily beat up both the guys and took them to the nearby police station. The policed booked both of them, thanked Dilip and said to me in a low voice:

“Make him understand. These cheap folks fight every other day on every other issue. We have other important cases to look into.”

Sudeep stood there when the police officer spoke these words. His hatred for his father seemed to grow more, for he felt ashamed.

****

All the time we shopped, Sudeep remained distant from us. He talked on phone with someone and did not engage him with us at all. Dilip must have realized this and hence he, too, spoke nothing all the while. On the way back home, all three of us were walking separately; my husband was ahead of us two; I was in the middle; my son much behind us, still on phone. It looked that three strangers walked, not knowing each other. I was lost in my thoughts, yet again.

A sudden cry filled the air and the vehicles started stopping. There was an accident. People flooded the site. I, too, rushed to see the injured man… and it was Dilip moaning in pain, with his cloths blood-soaked.

****

When the doctor announced that the patient needed blood to survive, Sudeep came upfront and expressed his wish to donate his blood to his father. After all, they were one blood.

****

The moment Sudeep came out of the donation room, he caught my hand and started to sob. “I am sorry, mama. Dad must have been thinking of my behavior when he got hit. It’s my fault. I have lost him once, and cannot lose him again.”

****

When I went to meet Dilip, after he was out of danger, as declared by the doctor, he had tears in his eyes. “I am sorry sweetheart, I must not have shouted at Sudeep, and picked up a fight with those roadmen. Do me a favor, darling! Allow me some more time to adjust with my family. Life cannot be imagined without you.”

****

I had tears in my eyes; both of sorrow and happiness. Tears of sorrow – for the condition Dilip was in. Tears of happiness – for my family will be united again.