Another Life: Thirteen Stories and a Play by Rakesh Mohan

Author:Rakesh, Mohan [Rakesh, Mohan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: null
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers India
Published: 2018-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

HIS MEAL

Translated by Kuswn Rashid

Balo knew that the bus would not arrive for a long time; still her eyes kept looking at the road every moment as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. No shade trees along the road. The ground very barren, uneven – the trees thirty to forty yards apart, all without fruit. After harvesting only the ground was hoed; therefore, everywhere one could see only upturned soil. In the blazing heat even the road changed its colours. A short distance from where Balo was standing was a wooden water stand. The attendant of the water stand, a man in rags sitting next to two huge water containers, was dozing. Once in a while he would raise his head, wipe away his sweat, give a sad glance and resume his nap. On one side where the water stand’s shadow fell, a long-bearded beggar glanced hungrily at Balo’s hands which were carrying food. Sitting next to the beggar was a large dog. Its eyes were also pasted on the food Balo was holding.

Balo wrapped the food in her sari. She did not want anyone to cast their eyes on it. She brought the food for her husband, Sucha Singh, a bus driver. She was late and Sucha Singh’s bus was already gone. But she was hoping her husband would return after making one round in the city. Then she would give him his food. She knew very well that today her husband must be very angry for he did not get his meal on time. Generally his bus arrives at two after making a round and by the time he eats and reaches the city again, it’s three-thirty. At that time she also gives him his dinner which he eats after the last ride. Sucha Singh works six days a week and follows the same routine.

Balo, carrying her husband’s food, usually leaves the village about one-fifteen and walks for half an hour in the blazing sun to arrive at the bus stop before two. If sometimes she came a few minutes late Sucha Singh would detain the bus, but would always scold her saying he was a public servant and not her father’s servant that he can detain the bus at will. Very patiently and quietly she would listen to his angry words and then hand him his food. But today she arrived not just two or four minutes late, but was delayed by two-and-a-half hours! She was fully aware of her excessive tardiness when starting from home, but she kept hoping that each extra minute she waited by the bus stop, the less angry her husband would be. She was sure Sucha Singh had had his lunch at some restaurant in the city. Nevertheless, she wanted to give him his dinner and at the same time explain why she was late. She was restless thinking how she could possibly make her hot-tempered husband understand her dilemma. She knew well that in his anger he might misunderstand and stop talking to her.

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