(Mr Ananda Sundaresan emigrated to USA in 1976 and his interest in Jayakanthan's fiction dates back to sixties. He has translated many stories of Jayakanthan from Tamil to English. Cinthanai Vattam, New Jersey has published his English Translation of selected short stories of Jayakanthan titled "Trial by Fire and other stories" to honour the first U.S. visit of Jayakanthan during the summer of 2000. This short story is the translation of Kizakkum Merkum. The Tamil original of this short story can be found here.)

Alamu Aachi found some peace of mind since she boarded the train the previous evening. Still her mind was not entirely free from confusion.

She and her son Ravi were the only passengers in that first class compartment of a train that has been hurtling toward its destination the whole night; Alamu Aachi has been watching and relishing the looks of her son - someone missing from her life for over the last five years - whenever she chanced to watch him in sound sleep on the opposite berth or when an occasional jolt of the compartment woke her up and let her eyes catch a glimpse of him.

“Thank heavens, he came as a godsend to save me from utter humiliation!” she muttered to herself, followed by a deep sigh - even as her mind continued to be filled with doubt and anxiety. “What happens next? What would his foreign wife think of me? She speaks a foreign language; would she be surprised to know that her mother-in-law is primitive and old-fashioned? The fact that she and I belong to two different cultures should certainly pose some problem, yet Ravi has chosen to take me home without even a formal consultation with his wife! Such a gesture wouldn’t sit well even with our Indian daughters-in-law! Anyway, it’s too late to worry! I have made up mind, and I must accept the consequences.” Her mind ill at ease, she spent the night with her mind grappling with all kinds of thoughts.

Sometime around daybreak, Ravi, awake and dressed in striped nightdress, was seated on his bed awaiting the train to stop at the next station.

A little later, well into the morning hours, after catching half-an-hour of sound sleep despite her daylong worries, Alamu Aachi too woke up when the train stopped at a fairly large rail station.

Alamu Aachi’s hair was disheveled, her face and eyes showing all signs of ravage due to lack of sleep for the greater part of the night; still, Ravi thought it quite remarkable when he noticed the large, bright red ‘kumkum’ on her forehead; it remained intact and brimming - while she was asleep, and again after she washed her face in the morning. Even as he savored that scene, Ravi tried to imagine how the same bright, red kumkum would look on his European wife Selena’s cool, smooth white skin.

“Did you sleep well?’ he asked her.

“Hm” was her only response.

His several attempts to draw her into some conversation the previous evening had the same effect; she was strictly formal and showed no interest in any natural or easy going conversation.

Alamu Aachi fully comprehended Ravi’s generosity toward her newly acquired status of motherhood - he has been cooperative and understanding, very supportive and helpful - in contrast to her own daughters and sons-in-law who seemed overwhelmed by jealousy. Still, because she has been festering inside over what she was going through, Alamu Aachi could not bring herself to open up to her son. So it was Ravi who took the initiative to break the wall of silence - to slowly free his mother from her self-destructive mood and also gradually learn more about the changes and episodes in their family in the last five years.

He talked about his father who despised Ravi for marrying a European woman - a senior colleague of Ravi’s - against the family tradition; the father had declared in a letter that he had since disowned Ravi and now chose to believe he was the father of only seven children. When Alamu Aachi, now pregnant in her golden years, felt shame and embarrassment and tried to kill herself by swallowing a concoction of home-grown weeds, it was the father who understood her sadness over separation from her second son and personally invited Ravi back home; Ravi also spoke of his mother’s initial reaction - she seemed totally blocked - because she felt punished by everybody around her by their cold, deliberate, silence. All these and more Ravi discussed with his mother - including the scene where his father bade him farewell as the son and the mother departed for the city. Again, recalling his father’s sixtieth birthday - Ravi protested why no invitation was ever extended to him to attend such an important family function.

He also talked about the two weddings - of his brothers - that took place without his knowledge - and spoke of their wives and children.

He mentioned his eldest sister Kamatchi, now home with her parents - and whose very appearance as a widow - triggered in Ravi a profoundly sad feeling.

And finally he spoke of his youngest sister Sushila, the one he doted on and carried on his shoulders as a child, who is now come of age and is ready for marriage. As a responsible member of the family Ravi was eager to know where his father’s plans stood in regard to her marriage.

While Alamu Aachi listened to all this with no enthusiasm or determination and responded, occasionally, with a low murmur or nod, she still seemed caught up with her own predicament. “How did I end up like this- someone, who calls herself the head of the family, shouldering so many responsibilities?” she asked herself. “I have acted like a senseless animal - betraying good sense and judgment.” She bowed down her head in silence.

While Ravi fully understood her feelings, he realized, by his rational mind and intellect, that her reaction was neither warranted nor proper. He had spent the whole night in silence - leaving his mother to her own devices - but trying hard how to persuade her into seeing her son’s point of view - that motherhood was no crime.

When Ravi woke up in the morning, his mother was still asleep. When the train now stopped at a major junction, she too woke up.

A railway employee, dressed in white uniform and cap, served them breakfast and coffee in a white tray.

Ravi poured coffee in two cups and added sugar and cream. He extended a cup to his mother.

On his arrival back home in the village, Ravi wore the traditional dhoti and a shirt. Yesterday, as soon as he arrived at the train station, he walked into the waiting room, found privacy, and changed into a suit, shirt and coat. While getting ready to go to bed at night he changed into pajamas - their broad stripes reminded Alamu Aachi of those gaudy, jarring designs found on the walls of the village temple. Ravi had brushed his teeth before he retired to bed and now awake, he was sipping coffee. Alamu Aachi was watching all these with an admixture of fascination and indifference. She could make no sense of all these actions - and was a little piqued by what she saw. For someone who never started her day without a cold shower early in the morning, this was quite appalling: “My god, I am yet to wash my teeth. How can I think of coffee at a time like this?” she screamed. Still grinning, she asked him, with a touch of sarcasm: “You too haven’t washed your teeth. Is this an English custom too?”

Aware of his mistake, Ravi took a sip from the cup he had extended to his mother. He was relieved that his mother finally broke her silence. “Of course, this is an English custom,” he answered her. “Didn’t you notice I washed my teeth last night before going to bed?”

“I know what you mean,” Alamu Aachi replied. “Everything seems to me topsy-turvy!”

“No, it is not. The Europeans have both good and bad habits. That is also true of us, Indians. It is always healthier to wash teeth at night before retiring to bed; it helps to avoid bad chemicals developing in the mouth. It is more important to wash teeth at night than in the morning.” It was quite a simple fact, but Ravi explained it with more than a passing interest.

He remained silent for a while, seemed immersed in some serious thought, and suddenly continued: “Yes, it is true! One should understand life among Europeans or Indians not by just looking at their clothes or daily customs. Neither can we understand them by the gods they worship. The soul of our country is revealed to us by what we really think about life and its purpose.” Suddenly it dawned upon Ravi that he was speaking to his mother - a simple, unlettered woman - so he stopped speaking further and peered into her eyes.

Alamu Aachi now keenly listened to him - realizing Ravi was on to something serious.

She understood what he meant. If she were asked to explain how she understood him, she would plead helpless. Yet she could feel the thrust of his argument.

Prior to his marriage with the foreign woman, Ravi had argued his case before his father and other family members; as he set forth his reasons in a clear, unmistakable language, Alamu Aachi silently listened to his side of the story and realized the justice underlying his actions. While others stood speechless in his presence, she felt Ravi’s strength lay in his honesty and sincerity.

Now he seemed to be in the same mood. As she was eager to listen, he smiled and continued to articulate his point of view. Meanwhile, a vendor of newspapers and magazines appeared at a window and Ravi asked for a newspaper; Alamu Aachi noticed her favorite Tamil weekly magazine in a stack with the vendor and asked him, “Do you get this magazine on Friday itself?” She extended her hand to get a copy and while she started turning the pages of the weekly Ravi scanned the headlines from his newspaper.

“India will not be corrupted by foreign clothes, foreign goods or even foreign ideas, “ Ravi began, and continued: “One might even say they have strengthened our social status in the world. What will certainly corrupt us is the muck we have accumulated over the ages. Man has built a house as a protection against heat and cold; but when that very house becomes a prison he desperately tries to flee it. Does it mean he prefers heat and cold to his house? That’s what I mean! Scriptures and rituals are primarily meant to make people happier, appreciate life better and improve themselves. But if those codes of conduct turn our society into one ruled by dogma, autocratic discipline and meaningless rituals, the fault is certainly ours!” His voice was almost like a whisper and as he uttered the words slowly - pausing now and then to make his point clear - Alamu Aachi listened with full attention, with a hand resting on her chin. After rambling for a while - he seemed to be interested not in one topic but in several - Ravi became silent.

The train continued its journey in full speed - reflecting Ravi’s mind.

He recalled the conversations he had with his European wife on India’s glorious tradition and the new forces shaping the European society.

Selena had once said:

“The Indian is older than the European. You belong to an older generation; your culture and civilization have a glorious past. That very fact is your strength, as well as your weakness. The quest for soul begins only in mature minds. When you think of those, who, having savored and enjoyed the sensual aspects of life, seek through intellectual pursuit, something even higher and a spiritual life, the whole world should take notice and bow to such a culture. But in India the average citizen who is tied to a family and attendant problems as well as the hedonist who finds fulfillment in sensual pleasures and forbidden love - both - act hypocritical - when they seem to ignore the object of their pleasure - their wives and the offspring - and lecture the world on the virtues of ascetic life. Ascetic life is possible to only one a million, yet the average Indian arrogates to himself such a lofty status. Indian life has turned into a veritable lie because the Indian continues to curse and condemn the very life he exemplifies! This habit of constantly flaunting its own past glory has reduced India as a slave to other cultures. The Indian woman is encouraged to feel ashamed about her own body. The notion has been sedulously fostered to Indian man that the woman - his partner in life - deserves no equal respect - and he is even made to feel proud over such a behavior on his part. Every widow is compelled to act as if she has overcome her true feelings. Women are reduced to fester inside, while those, who conceal their true feelings, easily win respect from others. True believers are condemned. You have forgotten your own glory. Still, Europe has to learn a lot from India, and surely it will. All this has happened because the European culture has been imposed on India, and this surely had consequences. Today’s intellectuals can’t deny that the future belongs to a new mold - a culture and tradition that combines the best of the East and the West.” These words crossed Ravi’s mind as he thought of his mother now seated opposite to him.

What caused his mother, past fifty, to contemplate suicide was not just because she feared others would make fun of her motherhood; it also exposed the phoniness behind the non-existent conjugal relations in domestic life. This has created self-contempt and drove Alamu Aachi to a horrific act. Ravi carefully avoided talking about his mother and concentrated on himself.

“This is the time when nations have to unite into one. People and their lifestyles need to overlap with one another. That is the reason why we wanted to get married and raise a new generation of Indians - not an Anglo-Indian.” He let out a deep sigh.

Alamu Aachi couldn’t fathom Ravi’s problem. Concerned, she stared at his face.

“Both of us are doctors,” Ravi told her. “But so far we haven’t been blessed with an offspring. My wife has a heart problem. She can’t bear a child until her heart shows improvement.” “That’s what one calls fate,” Alamu Aachi muttered under her breath. She tried to say more, but her words became inaudible to Ravi in the clatter of an electric train that sped on its way on the track next to their train. Once the electric train was past them, Ravi spoke his mind: “It is not final that my wife won’t bear a child; I trust the medical world, not fate.”

Awaiting Ravi’s arrival at the Egmore rail station was Selena - dressed in a gray skirt and a white blouse that exposed her full hands and shoulders in the summer. An electric fan on a high pole nearby set off her blond hair into obscuring her eyes. While trying to uncover the tresses falling on the forehead she ran toward Ravi just then alighting from the train, grabbed his both hands and eagerly asked him, “Darling, how is your mother?”

Ravi slowly untangled himself from Selena who seemed to have almost cast her entire body with his while firmly gripping his both hands in a public place, and spoke to her: “Darling, my mother is here. May I introduce her to you?” As he turned around, Alamu Aachi was getting down the compartment and was staring at the foreign woman with a strange look. Ravi led Selena to his mother and, smiling, spoke to her: “Mother, this is Selena, your daughter-in-law.” Even before he could complete the formal introductions, Selena, overcome by eagerness and affection, grabbed Alamu Aachi’s both hands. She did not stop after violently shaking her hand while saying, “I am very pleased to meet with you,” but tried to embrace Alamu Aachi and plant a kiss on her cheek. Totally taken by surprise and acutely embarrassed, Alamu Aachi recoiled at once, while Ravi, quickly seizing the situation, stopped Selena with a smile and ordered the porter to carry the luggage to a waiting car.

Selena, a little shocked and her face reddening, realized her mistake. She composed herself, smiled, and conveyed her respects to Alamu Aachi with a symbolic gesture - folding both her hands. Alamu Aachi reacted at once; while she recognized it was improper, she too answered with a similar gesture.

Once the porter loaded the luggage -including the huge jackfruit - into the trunk, the trio continued their journey to Adayar - where Ravi and Selena lived. Selena drove the car, Ravi was seated next to her up in the front and Alamu Aachi occupied the rear seat.

Alamu Aachi continued to smile and stare at Selena while trying to imagine what kind of life her son had with this foreign woman.

“What happened to your mom? Why did she try to commit suicide? “Selena asked, still driving.

“After an interval of sixteen years, at the age past fifty, my mother has become pregnant.“ Selena warmed to the news with delight and surprise so easily noticeable in her sparkling eyes. She flipped the mirror above the steering wheel and peered into it for a quick glance at the woman on the rear seat, and told Ravi: “ My congratulations! Soon you will have a younger brother or sister! Thanks for sharing the happy news with me.”

Ravi shrugged off his shoulders, and began: “You think this is a big deal and want to congratulate my mother. On the other hand, over there in the village, her daughters and sons, as well as daughters-in-laws and sons-in-law, are making fun off her - their manners are so mean and disgusting! That is what drove her to suicide, and I have decided to bring her home with me - because I don’t want her to live in those surroundings.” Shocked and a little furious at what she heard, her eyes growing blood-red and lips quivering, Selena exploded: “Why would someone condemn an event worthy of a celebration? Why pour insults and humiliation over this? I just can’t understand any of this! Has the family life turned into such a monstrous lie?”

While there was a language barrier, Aalamu Aachi easily understood that she was the object of their conversation.

“This is not the only good news I bring to you, “Ravi replied. “ I have also brought your favorite fruit - the jackfruit.”

Smiling to herself, Alamu Aachi opened the weekly magazine.

While her eyes stared at the magazine’s contents, her mind was locked up with a scene of the previous evening when Ravi spoke to her eldest daughter-in-law.

“The jackfruit grows on the trunk rather than on the branches; does it mean the trunk and the branches are enemies?” She also recalled the scene when her husband walked close to the taxicab and stood in silence, like a kid, unable to bid her farewell.

‘Hardly a day has passed; still I feel I have been separated from my husband for over many days. How is he going to manage without me?’ The very thought made Alamu Aachi’s eyes teary.

Concerned either Ravi or her daughter-in-law in the front seat might notice her she quickly raised the magazine to cover her face.

The car was just then turning and entering the compound of a beautiful bungalow.

Without compromising in any way her traditional customs, Alamu Aachi soon moved to the annex to the Ravi’s house - with a maid installed to take care of her daily, personal needs.

This move didn’t sit well with Selena; but when Ravi assured her the arrangement meant no insult to his mother, but demonstrated a respect for Alamu Aachi’s values, as she herself understood them, Selena reluctantly gave her consent.

Alamu Aachi was immensely pleased with the new arrangement.

That afternoon as she sat in the main hall while busily working at her sweater, Selena, her cheeks reddening, asked Ravi about what was worrying her the whole day.

“Do you think your mother misunderstood me because I tried to kiss her? Heavens, I should have never done such a thing!”

“Why do you keep on thinking about it? There is no cause for misunderstanding. She probably thought it was something odd!” Ravi tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Speaking of Indian tradition -how is a woman supposed to welcome her mother-in-law?” Selena asked. “You need give me a lesson. That’s your obligation to me.”

Ravi rubbed his forehead and burst into a loud laughter, and said. “It doesn’t work out that way in our culture. In the Indian tradition it is the mother-in-law who welcomes the daughter-in-law.”

“Okay, I understand what you mean. Now tell me how does the mother-in-law act, and how the daughter-in-law should respond.”

“Where is the hurry?” Ravi seemed tired to continue the conversation.

“I must know it right away,” Selena countered him. “I seem to know a lot of things about Indian culture, but I feel totally ignorant when it comes to these simple customs. I need a clear, detailed description of everything. You better begin.” She arose from her seat and walked over to Ravi as if preparing for a rehearsal.

Like a professor getting ready to lecture his students Ravi arose from his seat.

For a moment he seemed lost in some deep contemplation, his head bowed down. He paced a few steps and faced her. He clasped both his palms without actually bringing them together, and began: “Welcoming a daughter-in-law to the household is an important ritual in the Indian wedding. The arrival of the daughter-in-law is seen as harbinger of good luck - someone who not only brings prosperity, she sustains that family for the generations to come. Even as the daughter-in-law is at the threshold, the mother-in-law awaits her with a host of other married women. She offers her ‘aarathi’ and welcomes her into the household. The daughter-in-law makes her entry by placing her right foot forward, and once she is inside the abode, she bows to the mother-in-law and touches her feet in a gesture of respect. The mother-in-law then blesses her and applies a kumkum on her forehead.” It took an additional half an hour for Ravi to answer Selena’s follow-up questions on these rituals, such as: What is aarathi? How does one offer respects to elders? What do the elders say when they bless the younger people?, etc.

“How does the daughter-in-law express her thanks to her mother-in-law?” Selena’s question provoked in Ravi a mild laughter, even as he conjured the scene of Selena, after duly blessed by Alamu Aachi, saying to her, “Thank you very much.”

That evening, as he returned home from the nursing home and drove into the compound gate, Ravi was pleasantly surprised by what was unfolding before his eyes -in the main hall.

Just as he had imagined the previous day in the train, he was seeing his wife Selena sporting a dark, red kumkum on her forehead while draped in a lush green sari and a matching blouse in light red. She arose from the sofa and greeted her husband with a traditional gesture - her two hands folded together.

Ravi saw in her majestic posture and unraveling womanhood his ideal mold of the East and West.

‘But, soft! . . . .. . .
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ‘

Ravi recalled a quote from Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’ - implying - how Juliet’s exceeding beauty seemed to break like the light of the sun in the east. Murmuring those very words he slowly neared Selena, took one of her arms and kissed it. “Darling, you are like a fairy! What a beauty! You are amazing!” He went on praising her - in her European tradition.

Selena spoke after thanking him, “I am just waiting for you. Let us leave right away. My mother-in-law is ready to welcome me into her house. I have already sent her a message through our maid. Now I am ready to formally meet with my mother-in-law.” Ravi welcomed her open, frank words expressed with all the earnestness she could muster, with warmth and surprise and got ready to accompany her.

Alamu Aachi had begun managing her life - just like the one she had back in her village - in the annex to Ravi’s with all the amenities and comforts provided to her.

That afternoon her maid duly conveyed the message from Selena to Alamu Aachi: “Missiamma will be arriving in the evening and she expects to be formally invited into the house - as a daughter-in-law - in a traditional Indian fashion.” Alamu Aachi instantly recalled the events at the rail station that morning: Selena trying to kiss her after firmly shaking her hands; Alamu Aachi recoiling under sudden shock, and Selena’s acute embarrassment following her uninhibited manner before a stranger.

“Forget all this stuff about culture and customs, how affectionately -like an innocent child - was she trying to get closer to me?” Alamu Aachi reminded herself. “Would I do such a thing - move away from her- if she were my own daughter? I should have never hurt her feelings.”

She had ordered the maid to fetch a couple of pictures of Hindu gods and displayed them in a corner for daily worship. She cleaned the floor, decorated it with a kolam, and lit the lamps. As she busied herself with each and every task before her, the maid rushed and informed her: “Our Missiamma is wearing a sari, and she also has a kumkum on her forehead. She really looks beautiful with her kumkum. Her hair has been trimmed into a bunch with a ribbon. She is wearing studs in her ears.” As Alamu Aachi watched Selena and Ravi afar - with a plate and aarathi to receive her daughter-in-law she felt Selena looked like a very familiar figure.

As Alamu Aachi formally received the couple after offering them a traditional arathi and adoring their faces with sandalwood paste and vermillion, Selena watched the whole exercise as a fun; she tried to restrain her laughter and watched Ravi’s face.

Ravi took all this as a child’s play. When Alamu Aachi held Selena’s arm and led her into the house, Selena asked a pointed question:

“Which foot? The right one, am I right?”

“Of course,” replied Alamu Aachi, quite pleased with her question.

Once they were inside the house, when Selena told Alamu Aachi, “Please wait here! I want to offer my respects to you!” and respectfully touched her feet, Alamu Aachi’s eyes turned teary.

“May you live many years and be blessed with many children,” Alamu Aachi blessed Selena and swept her off her feet. Only then did she recall Selena’s medical condition and felt speechless to console her. She could only warmly embrace her.

Selena too understood Alamu Aachi’s feelings following that warmth. Her face reddening, she began to sob.

“ My child! You are such a gentle, noble woman, God would spare you nothing you deserve,” Alamu Aachi told her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Selena understood what Alamu Aachi meant - even though she did not understand her words. When East is opening up to the West, how can a language be a barrier?

“What kind of language is this?” Ravi seemed baffled while caught in a speechless rapture.

East or West, does it really matter? Was not Ravi witnessing a truth in his very presence - that feminism and motherhood transcend all the cultural barriers!

Courtesy: Mr. Ananda Sundaresan