Kshipra
The next day, Srini
found Kshipra sitting alone on the sofa in the hall. The house was empty.
Shripad had gone out.
Srini eased herself down next to her and, almost in a whisper, called, "Kshipra! Angry about yesterday? I should not have touched your unhealed wound. I am really sorry."
Kshipra looked at her. Her voice was flat, scraped clean of feeling. "It's okay, Srini. All my feelings have dried long back. Yet, in a way, it was good you brought up the subject. For a long time I wanted to talk to somebody about my past, and how I finally reached the truth."
"Okay, tell me," Srini said, taking her hand.
Kshipra took a long breath, as if she were about to dive underwater. She said, "I was married off to one Mohan Kadam, whom I hardly knew. He was a Maratha and we were Brahmins. It was an inter-caste marriage. I do not know how this took place, or what the deal was. I had just passed twelfth. I was barely eighteen then."
She added, "My husband and I had no children even after three years had passed since our marriage. My in-laws were very orthodox and wanted me to present them a grandson at the earliest."
She paused, her fingers worrying the edge of the sofa cover until the thread began to fray. "First they started suspecting me and wanted me tested. Under their pressure I subjected myself to a medical check-up and was completely cleared. I also told them that Mohan was completely normal and we had a normal relationship, as Mohan had asked me to tell them. Srini, but I must tell you that I was so naïve at that time that I don’t think I knew the real meaning of what I told them."
Her voice hardened. "After much discussion they sent Mohan for a check-up. When the verdict came, they found that he was not only impotent but was also suffering from a very low sperm count. Almost no chance of bearing a child for me."
"Subject ended for a few months," Kshipra went on, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Then a friend told my mother-in-law about artificial insemination. She started pestering me. So I finally told Mohan about it and suggested we should move out."
Kshipra closed her eyes for a moment, as if the memory still stung. "Mohan hesitated for a few days and finally told me the truth, which I had suspected for long. He had no regular income and depended on family income, so he could not go against the wishes of his mother. I told my mother about the issue. She said she cannot intervene in our family issues. I should just listen to my mother-in-law. So finally, most reluctantly, I went to the doctor."
"He explained the procedure to me. I was absolutely shocked. There was no IVF then. The procedure was the same for humans as for bovines. First I refused point blank and argued with my mother-in-law that you won't get your grandson, it would be somebody else's grandson. It was of no avail. I was forced to undergo the procedure repeatedly till I missed my period. The procedure, and then the compulsory resting posture, were terribly humiliating and insulting."
Srini reached for her hand but did not speak. Her own throat had gone tight.
"Srini, I just can't describe to you my state then," Kshipra said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I felt disgusting, dirty, soiled and used. There was no way out."
"I gave birth to my first son when I was twenty-two," Kshipra’s voice changed, softened. "As I nursed him, holding him to my breast, a new feeling, an awakening, took over me. In my mind, I started thinking whether I had been wrong all along and my mother-in-law was right. Holding your child to your bosom and feeding him has been such an exquisite experience for me that it changed me. I realised that this is my baby. Whosoever the father may be."
Her gaze drifted past Srini. "At the same time I watched Mohan going away from me. He was a mental wreck. He just sat in the house with no one bothering about him. But somehow a distance had developed between us. A silence I could not cross."
Kshipra looked away toward the window, where the afternoon light was beginning to slant. "After three more years, Mother-in-law wanted a granddaughter. This time I immediately agreed. The idea of motherhood again was so exciting that I endured the pain and suffering of pregnancy without any complaints."
"This time, instead of a daughter, I had a son again."
"After my second son was born, the ecstasy and excitement of motherhood was back," she said, and for a second Srini saw the old light in her eyes. "However, considering other things, I finally told my mother-in-law that this is enough. Mother-in-law gladly agreed."
Srini frowned. "You are telling me that you enjoyed having kids by artificial insemination?"
"Yes, Srini," Kshipra said, meeting her eyes. "Because they were my babies. I had stopped caring about the father." Her mouth twisted. "To some extent that was because of Mohan. I had by then lost all interest in men."
She was silent for a while. The hawker’s call drifted in from the street, long and lonely.
"After the kids were born, a huge calamity hit our family," Kshipra said at last. "My mother-in-law suddenly died because of a snake bite. She was a capable woman and managed the whole household. After she was gone, a mountain of new responsibilities fell on my head. I was the only housewife in the family."
Her fingers tightened on the sofa cover. "I found it extremely difficult to handle the situation alone, as Mohan was not of any use."
“After about a month of inactivity, Baba became very busy all of a sudden. He kept going out of the house continuously for some work or other. He even went out of station for a few days. Yet, whenever he looked at me I found compassion for me in his eyes.
After about a fortnight, he called Mohan and me to
his room after lunch and told us in a serious tone that we are leaving this
place for good and would shift to Pune. All
arrangements have been done and We would be travelling coming Sunday.”
"Mathura Bai, an old trusted lady servant, more like a family member, would also come with us. 'So pack all your things by Saturday and be ready,' he said."
I packed whatever few clothes I had for me and the kids. Mohan didn’t do any packing, so I packed for him too, folding his shirts with hands that already felt tired.
On Sunday morning a huge car came and parked near the gate. I learned later that it was called a station wagon. We all sat in. Our packages were moved by the servants. Baba gave a few instructions to one of them. And then we just left. There were no farewells, no goodbyes, nothing. Only the dust rising behind us.
We reached Pune by evening. Our car parked before the gate of a much smaller house compared to our Wada. Yet I had liked our journey very much, and also the lunch we ate on the way. I had never eaten in a hotel before. The plates were hot, the dal had ghee floating on top, and for a few minutes I forgot everything.
An elderly gentleman and a few men were waiting at the door. They quickly unloaded all the things and took them inside. Baba stopped me and introduced me to the elderly gentleman. "Kshipra, meet Shembekar Kaka. He is my friend." Little did I know that this man would prove to be my godfather later in life.
There were four or five rooms in the house. A hall and a kitchen and a large veranda. Two rooms were allotted to me. When I went in I found two steel beds in each room. I asked Baba about them. He said, "Nobody sleeps on the ground here."
It was expected that Mohan and I would occupy one room and the other would be for the kids. However, Mohan told me that he would take one room. The other would be for me and the kids.
Shembekar Kaka had brought dinner for us. We ate that, and I was so tired that I just slept off along with the kids. Baba also retired, perhaps feeling somewhat happier. Mathura Bai seemed to have worked late into the night, because when I got up, the kitchen was all set up and Mathura Bai was ready for work.
After a week, more furniture came. A sofa
set and chairs for the hall. A dining table with chairs. Cupboards for the
bedrooms. We learned to eat at a dining table. Sleep in real beds.
Slowly, we settled down to Pune life. More servants were appointed. A gardener, women for cleaning, and most important, a babysitter who looked after the kids.
Everyone seemed happy except Mohan.
One day, Baba asked me over lunch, "Which subjects did you like most in school?"
That was an easy one for me. I immediately told him, "Languages."
He just smiled.
After a month or so, he told me that the next morning we would go to meet a friend. This friend turned out to be the principal of a college nearby. He talked to me for a while, saw my certificates, which I had carefully brought with me from Pen, and told Baba to admit me from the next term. So began my college life.
I really loved to study, though I did not make any friends as all the girls in our class were much younger.
"Srini, I can tell you that was one of the best periods of my life," Kshipra said, her eyes softening. "College, home and comfort — I was really happy. There was however one huge void that I felt. I was alone. Mohan had stopped even talking to me."
"Baba also sold our Wada and the
farmlands and received a considerable amount," Kshipra said. "He
invested everything in government bonds and made me the nominee. He however did
not sell a small part of the land and kept it. I once dared to ask him about
it. He just laughed."
Her eyes flickered with the memory. "When I reached final year, Baba suggested that I should also keep terms for LLB, a law degree. Shembekar Kaka also liked the idea. So I started on the path to becoming a lawyer."
A small smile touched her lips. "For going around, I bought a scooter then. After that, nobody would have ever believed that I was a small-town girl once."
For the next few years, life was a smooth,
crisis-free affair, except for one or two things.
On one morning, Mohan told Baba that he did not like Pune and wanted to go back to our village. Baba told him about the plot he had kept and said that he could go and stay there. "There is a small house there," Baba said. "You can grow whatever you want. You will continue to get your monthly allowance there too."
This was one of the rare occasions when I saw Mohan happy. A real smile, not the empty one he wore at the dining table.
Anyway, he left in the next few days without any fanfare. No farewells, nothing. For the kids it made no difference — Mohan was never part of their life.
After Mohan's departure, life went on unperturbed. I passed my BA exam, and after two more years, my LLB. Both the kids were good in studies and managed to get admissions in engineering colleges. Baba suggested that I should check with Shembekar Kaka whether I could work with him as a trainee. He gladly agreed. The only cause of concern was Baba's failing health. But there was no solution for that.
One day, while working, Shembekar Kaka told me, "Baba called today and he wants me to come to your house this evening."
That evening, Shembekar Kaka, came to our house along with a well qualified Doctor friend of his and two witnesses. Baba read his will and handed over registered copies to me and to Kaka as Executioner of his will. According to the will, I would inherit all his assets, except for his plot in the village where Mohan stayed, and some securities, the interest from which was to be paid to Mohan.
After everyone left, I asked Baba, "Why have you favoured me so much?"
He replied with tears in his eyes. "This was the least I could do to repay you for the terrible injustices your mother-in-law and I committed."
We both cried that day. I was in my late thirties then.
Baba did not survive much longer after that.
However, I did not feel helpless any longer. I had work, two children who stood by me, and Shembekar Kaka's support.
Baba had appointed Shembekar Kaka as the executor of his will. He was also our lawyer and my godfather — a responsibility he had taken on his own head.
One day, after Baba's departure, he told me, "Kshipra, sometime in the future you might get a legal notice from Mohan to vacate your property and transfer all the money to him. Don't get scared. Just hand over the notice to me. Another important thing — accept the notice only if your full name is written correctly on the envelope."
True to his prediction, I received three incorrect notices before getting the correct one. I just handed it over to Kaka. He told me, "Forget about the notice and relax." Srini, you won't believe it, but within the next year, not only was there an amicable settlement between Mohan and me about Baba's property, but our divorce by mutual consent also came through.
There I was then — a rich lady in my forties, a trained lawyer, with my own property and two sons on the threshold of individual careers.
.png)
One of my son was already in US. He visited me around that time, By then my second son also had secured an admission in one of the US universities for masters. Both of them left for the US. I kept working for Shembekar Kaka. However, I could see that he was getting old, and his son, a lawyer in his own right, was slowly taking over.
I had no interest in working for a new boss. I was alone, and a kind of emptiness was filling my life.
Perhaps my destiny was waiting for an opportunity to create chaos in my peaceful life. Because then came such a powerful twist to my life that it completely turned everything around.
"But it's a long story," Kshipra said. "I shall speak about it later."
"OK," said Srini.
They kept sitting silently in the developing darkness of late evening when there was the sound of the door latch opening. Shripad entered, calling to them, "Hey girls! Why are you sitting in darkness?"
Within minutes, life at Three S-es was normal again.
(Continued in Chapter 3)
(All characters places except for geographical names events actions of people are fictional. Any similarity found is purely accidental. All images AI generated)
----------