Clip Joint

Sahitya Akademi
Clip Joint Author(s): U.R. Anantha Murthy and D.A. Shankar Source: Indian Literature, Vol. 40, No. 3 (179), ACCENT ON MANIPURI POETRY (May - June 1997), pp. 94-123 Published by: Sahitya Akademi Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/23338293 . Accessed: 27/11/2013 11:57
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ONE TEXT, ONE READING
Cup Joint
U.R. finanthci Murthy
(TS
he
fake
like
me?
Or
is
there
some
truth
when
J. Stewart,
drawls any." out, His blue
biting
must eyes
his
have look
pipe
bluer
and
and
groping
Mine burn with
for words,
doesn't a have strange and
"Life
a purpose.
intensity. But how genuine

Keshava cool-running ...?" "It's yawned A experience instant and said, death", "please, of what looked long down rails of
is he?'
and saw the station. electrified "What a tube
yet
if I leap his beard, : all
Stewart excuse had is akin me." been
stroked
memory
read
long of death.
ago
at its intensest
to that
Stewart cursed
'A true school
in a tired voice and put the pipe in his

aristocrat, tie, edges comes straight out of a unstitched; worn-out
pocket. public
liberal : woollen
gray flannel baggies; Harris' tweed jacket, pipe; unoiled, And thin and tall. me, hair; bearded, long fat and paunchy! At the University Gym, while bathing. I
have around seen them : "All Indian students have a ring station two-line of fat their Keshava tried of to recall, : of these faces in a crowd apparition on a wet, black bough. at me : "You you those have : waist". walked 'oh, what about was the it? Oh Paddington yes, the and poem
Pound The Petals
Stewart see, check
laughed and verify
Indians read
come about
here England But,
to
what
in poetry. Oh, boy!" 'How

University, was only I used when to see someone
true! While walking

flowers out every that they pointed coat
up to the
it were daf
day.
fodils that a bell rang,

thrust and his looked hands into : benches;
and
his
in came
pockets,
Wordsworth!'
walked around,
He
vend
ad-posters
: slot-machines
ing cigarettes,
chocolates,
milk, fruit juice
and hot coffee:
benches again; blow-ups of half naked girls advertising corsets, and the adultery of pencil lines on the blow-ups! Interesting. Rather like
the
sexually as deprived as the Indians, rather like me again. A if he musters up enough courage to talk to a girl under a student, tree in the campus, is asking for the trouble, and he knows it. Let even his fairly elderly teachers will alone his adolescent classmates, students direct disapproving
scene I made,
lavatory
walls
of
Indian
colleges.
Nowhere
in the
world
are
found
and
reprimanding
I created
glances
when
at him. Why, what a

my brother
what
rumpus
I thought
was beaming living opposite

But, then,
waves us!
these
of love through
people who
our tiny window-bars

ask your forgiveness
at the girl
when they
belch,
Keshava
look,
here,
in the open,
one :
on the benches!
What
indulgence!
walked
towards
boy who wore his hair like the Beatles was holding a girl in his arms. She had a red dress on. The boy held her tight, bit the soft The lobes of her ears and girl moaned, put her whispered. The on his chest and pulled him towards her. Keshava stood there looked and he couldn't take his eyes off them. In India, only dogs in heat, in the month of Kanya, behave this way. The boy kissed open her eyes and made her look at him and she giggled and pushed him away, Keshava turned his face away, but threw at them a stealthy hands and backward glance. which spins even "This
to
is no country for old men!" "Stewart, I am thirty two now. My hair is going
lose the sense of mystery Keshava and wonder I had
His head swam and he stood, like the tail of a lizard after it is cut off and then stops dead. gray.
when
I have
I was a
begun asked
boy. And
I have
do
not yet held a girl by her hand."

you say?" offered Stewart
He chuckled
a cigarette.
and
"No,
: "What
thanks. I'll light my pipe. Funny it sounds, I mean, what you said just now." In their friendship of these five or six months, this was
the first
"The
cannot
personal
comment
Keshava
had
heard
from
him.
tongue
even
has
half
to have
an hour
something
doing
tasty, and
I have
all the time.

to have some
one with me. If I have to spend a day and with nothing to do and without cigarettes, may be I would commit suicide." The girl in the red dress held the boy's face in her hands and looked at him, with worship writ large in her eyes. know, Fear, may be. A strange kind of fear." When he was about to bound into an incoming train, Stewart stopped him and said, "This isn't ours. It's the next one." U.R. Anantha Murthy/95 "Why?" "I don't
spend
nothing;
"This earlier
is my first time on the tube," said Keshava. Picking up an strand of their conversation, Stewart said, "This is why I said one has to have a purpose in life. A purposeless
he will give mother pounds are passed on to the Punjabi blackmarketer two hundred rupees and it will last her a whole month. That would be the first step in giving up smoking and then I can face problems of poverty, of getting my ageing sisters married and troubles of that kind at home. But it is hard. written, "You need not worry he has passed on judgement I have come to London again! "If only the fear of cancer
Nor do I believe "No, Stewart, I don't believe in purposefulness. in purposelessness." As in the story of Ali Baba, the doors of the train automatically 'If only opened and once the people rushed in, closed automatically. I give up smoking I can save ten pounds a month and if the ten
I can't give up smoking. Maadhu has about me. I have left home!" It is a my life. But not those old problems with Stewart to forget it all.' made you give up smoking ..." Stewart
spoke as if he was thinking aloud for himself. "No, Stewart, we don't give up anything; we cannot, you know. Say, you suddenly realise that what you have in your hand is a snake. You
how
throw it away, wouldn't you? You wouldn't worry about right-wrong or allow conflicts to decide what you should do. This is
awareness, "I have a awareness feeling comes via of that the self has to come." mind you, a critical s.=lf-awareness,
would
self-awareness,
culture."
"Wrong.
But even that
See, I think I have it, what you call critical self-awareness.

is a pre-perceived, readymade knowledge. Sometimes,
stop. Everything would be all right for a week or so. But then, it would be the same story again. If any small thing went wrong, I would spit and hiss. That is why I gave the example of a snake. Self-awareness Suddenly, Otherwise has to come when one has no awareness of its coming. like a flash of lightning, that is how we enter a new life. we go round and round about what we already know and
while at home, I would make up my mind : I'd say, 'why am I always angry with my mother, with my bother, and why do I sit around it was so moping all the time?' I asked myself and then concluded I was too full of self love. This, I told myself, is wrong, my because entire system is getting poisoned. I shouldn't allow it. And so I would
and this delude ourselves that we have achieved true self-awareness, nor purposeful is why I say that I believe neither in purposelessness
ness. All purposes are pre-thought, you see. Stewart, I am sorry. We
96/Indian
Literature : 179
talk, we lecture!" was curious to know how his purely personal experiences would affect the stiff, upper-lipped Stewart went to the Englishman. threw his for the advice." And and said "Thanks litterbin, away pipe then added : "Forgive me if I have been too dramatic." "You threw Keshava away the pipe! Fine. You know what I feel like doing; either hug the girl in the red dress and kiss her or leap down on to the rails below."
Indian's
don't
Keshava lit another cigarette, and searched for words for laughed, what he had thought long ago. "I had an uncle, Stewart, you know what he did? One day, he left his wife, his home and everything else and went away just like that to an ashram at Badri, to meditate. But you are different. You are an exampleum of the highly refined English culture, the way my uncle is of the culture of India. One is a saint and the other is decent and well bred.
The decent and well bred man cuts and polishes the of his personality and lives, like a man of true skill, a rough edges life which has an accepted and defined social order. Perhaps what I am saying isn't clear to me. But of this much I am sure. You are decent and well bred; he is a saint and I ..." Stewart laughed and said, "Oh, I miss my pipe!" "Me? Stewart, I don't have any skills. I am not a saint nor am I "You?" decent and well bred.
I am lost in my own nature and I am afflicted." He offered a cigarette to Stewart, lit it, and in the light of the match looked at Stewart's face and thought that he desired no more talk, and so held back words which were waiting to be poured out. 'No, either way it won't be "life." Well. Say, I listen to mother, look for bridegrooms marry my elder sister's daughter*, Bhageerathi, and get my four younger sisters married, clear the loan by coaching
students for examinations and
no life! But to be forever dissatisfied and to be Bhageerathithat's forever angry and quarreling with my mother and brothers, to mutely watch sisters being regularly ocularly molested by good-for-nothing street boys or to run away like Maadhu, watch mother living and dying in her salt-tears and to find, after my return, my sisters tortured by rakes and loafers and see the front yard of the house unswept and the pooja room unlighted and dark, like a house which has suffered death, and looks forlornthat's "Oh, Keshava,
beget
sons
on
that
blessed
no life either!' what are you thinking of, and so hard? Here is our train, get in," said Stewart. The doors slid open, but then they saw a 'no smoking' sign in red letters on the glass panes and ran to another compartment. The doors closed and in two minutes they were voyaging through a dark tunnel. Keshava looked around : eyes U.R. Anantha Murthy/97
suits. "Stewart, in the Soviet tube ing men wear only Burton-tailored trains instead of the usual ads may be they have : 'Join the party: Be a leader of the youth; Come, let's go to Cuba:' Ah, what do you think?" Com "No, Keshava, that's why I said one has to have a purpose.
tired and slouching, after a long day's hard glued to the newspaper, work and faces bled to a whitenessyes, Keshava thought, these are the material of Eliot's poetry. Then, he read the ads, in the compart ment : drink fat-free juice and stay slim; eat Walls's sausages; charm
munism has a purpose as the Roman Catholic church has. I don't accept either but to forever eat their sauces, drink their juices and to keep, moving up and down this underworldthat's terrible. It is
better to have some goal, some
do you know these people sitting here are not happy? It's to or not from your possible say whether their lives are meaningful of But whether their of view. life has way point brought them happi ness or not, you wouldn't be able to judge. Happiness or unhappiness is what one feels at particular moments. Meaningfulness or the lack of it is measured in terms of timethe or the past present. Those
who don't bother about yesterday or tomorrow have only to
"How
purpose."
about
happiness meaningfulness. their lives." "Look, and

of blood Keshava, memory, cools can
or unhappiness. Here there isn't any question It is people like you and me who are messing the human
escape past and a cigarette
worry
of up
Keshava and
man down,
mind has twin facultiesof is a development,

past and the to future. begin you?" haunt from the the future from
imagination,
since imagination
memory a growth
As us. our Sorry,
cannot the
I borrow
"Borrow! Oh, don't bother", said Keshava, giving him a cigarette. "What I mean is this : in life it is some kind of an insurance for our
age, I am you not know, sure I mean, to I am have a purpose. I also feel the same but whether right."
'These girls are all right. Not like my sisters. They go about on their own. They work, they choose their husbands and get married. But our girls? Oh, God, they lisp, sway and draw the pallu of their sari tight against their breasts every few seconds : real display dolls! These girls, they go like Alexander bent on conquest, and their breasts less. And
proclaim, unabashed, their charm.
train stopped. Keshava got up but Stewart pulled him back was full. They saying that that was not their stop. The compartment saw two old ladies standing and offered their seats to them. Keshava stood and gazed at the hairstyle of a girl standing next to him.
The
in our country, Literature : 179
with our upper
They
walk
straight,
and
are
fear
middle
class girls anyway,
98/Indian
the hidden parts of the anatomy are their most powerful weapons. Often, I have felt Why shouldn't my sisters choose their husbands? should. But it's a If I would be the first they only feeling. they did, to shout and rave. Indian a is traditionalist at person Every youth home and a revolutionary abroad. Shall I marry Bhageerathi and beget and children in sheer ennui? Mother
with
of
course
praises
neat
her
is very fair complexioned. She is a matriculate but you could educate her further if you wanted. And, I am getting old. If you don't get married how will your brothers?" If Bhageerathi joins us,
the house would have seven-six brothers and a sister,
grand-daughter:
"What,
what's
wrong
her?
She
has
features
there is a bigger question I have to face. It is Maadhu. Was I fair to him? He stopped going to school after he got to the matriculation class. Will at least the younger one, Sudheendra, be all right? No, like Ghazni Mohammed he has been assailing his examiners for the past seven years. Every evening he goes out dressed like a dandy,
has a by-two dosa and coffee and if he makes
plus
her.
But
sees a film and is back home around half past ten. Mother has to wait for him to serve him dinner. I tell her : "Why have you to wait for these grown up good-for-nothing fellows? Why should I waste tuition to half a dozen students? Is it to every evening giving private fill the bellies of these wretched, useless hounders?" Mother sits still with her hand on her head before the vessels with rice and rasam. The two younger brothers sit with food in their hands but do not lift it to their mouths. I am not-fully happy with myself till I make them feel guilty and see that they feel guilty. Anger
mounts within me and I wait to hear them say something so that I
any
money
at
cards
can give the right reply and shout. I search my vocabulary bank and pick choice words of abuse. Maadhu's eyes brim over with tears. He leaves the plate untouched and gets up. I get disappointed and go to Madhava who is washing his hands and tell him : "Go, eat. You want to get even with me by going hungry?"
didn't
do much for me. For you, he did. I eat here because you are brother. my Say you don't want me, I shall go away." "1,1,1 ..." waiting words pour out. "I didn't loaf around like you. Father didn't do as much for me as I have done for you. I lived in U.R. Anantha Murthy/99
self pity and it eats into me. Sometimes mother Anger becomes : do words? At certain moments says "Why you speak inauspicious true. No, always speak good words. They will do us they become Madhava bursts out : "No, I shall not work in good." Or sometimes that factory like the children of lower castes. It is not for me, I know it. You act big because you are an M.A. and a lecturer. But father
a free hostel : I swept the floor, cleaned the lavatory, and came up." All my bitterness comes up. My anger sweeps clean through me as lights sweep away darkness during the festival of lights. A desire from and satisfied; I feel exhausted, within, a desire akin to sex, appears I have a fear that anger or nothingness. sit as if drunk on pleasure is the only feeling I am capable of now. "We are on the Bakerloo line. This is Baker
Stewart, and since the compartment was almost
Street Station,"
empty, we went
said
back
to our seats and sat. He must have been thinking of what I had said earlier, and so he began from where I had left off: "You know why I spoke off a 'purpose'? See, in this country world. In your country, where live in a small, self-centered people between you still have big joint families, there is a live relationship individuals. With us, a boy starts earning by the time he is sixteen, gets married at eighteen, goes on the dole if he doesn't have a job. He doesn't have to look after his aged He has no responsibilities. parents. There isn't any give and take here between youth and age. Because, you see, there are old People's Homes in this country. There
is nothing that contributes to Tightness here. The wife buys a T.V., a washing machine and a fridge and he a carall on hire purchase; they go to a pub in the evening, come back, watch the T.V. Once a year go on holiday to some sea beach, get their skin tannedand you call this life? What has all this to do with it? And my life isn't very different. In life we need conflicts, tensions, joys and sorrows,
not mere
You life in England; life here has no purpose. waste fighting poverty; you say it went dry.
I have no
easy
triumphs.
Oh,
I am
bored,
terribly
bored.
There
is no
say your life went

what hunger is;
from the sixteenth year, whenever In a country where birth control

enough and causes no fear. Yes,
experience
of
poverty;
I don't
know
I felt the desire I have had women. is known to everyone, this is easy
I ate, I slept and had sex; I ate
more, I slept longer and had more sex. What do you think is now left for me in life?" "Stewart, I envy you," said Keshava laughingly. of "Look at these people in the train. We have a cross-section our society here. That one there in a bowler-hat and black pin-striped suit, and reading The Times, works in a bank or is a civil servant. That is wearing a collarless jacket and whose hair is too well is a working class man, now turned a dandy. and groomed This girl who has dyed her hair somewhere. a be he is salesman May red and is all smiles is probably a salesgirl at Woolworth's, may be a Those course a steno. one there is of The other also. pickup girl one who creamed 100 /Indian Literature : 179
young
wear
men there whose

tight trousers will
hair is done
get married
in the style of Beatles

in another two years
and who
and start
they will go in for. Me too. In another paying on the hire purchase I finish will become part of the Establishment studies and year, my that the bowler hat-man represents. I become a wheel, a fairly big in the If had written in English he would one, Sartre, machinery.
have by now become a member of the House of Lords.
know, has become fat and has lost its sensitivity. Look at our angry and The Times spot them, praise them, and young men. The B.B.C.
so make them
England
you
here.
wrote
And
about
part other
of
the
Establishment.
We
don't
have
future
nothing
new happens
people and
here.
other
Look,
countries.
all our
Think
great
of
writers
Forster,
Lawrence, Nothing
Stewart's had
to write about? Green, Durrel! What is there in England but stupid snobbery. Forgive me, I have talked far too long."
face had rather become redder and He Keshava however, could see thought that Stewart Stewart's emotionally.
of the joint family was a little too naive. He of course had eulogizing had too much of it. 'May be in no social set is man happy; the way I
weep over
spoken
dent.
It pains me when I see them wearing home stitched bras explode! which flatten the breasts. They walk to school with their backs bent, because they want to look like small girls. But women don't need to be given lessons in the welfare of the self: they read till eleven at night, are up again at four in the morning, do the housework, study and pass examinations in First Class and are awarded free stud dentships. They shame my younger brother. Maadhu is simply impru
Once length he got cloth a bonus. for He bought and the saris other for two mother brothers, and sisters, took my myself
with it they pay little or no attention to it. My four younger sisters dressed in cotton saris and going barefoot, eat a barely sufficient meal, and yet, to my mother's eyes they appear to bloom like trees in the spring. To her, they are, in fact, so many live bombs, set to
familiar
my
wasted
life,
my
wasted
talent,
etc.,my
people
are
so
trouser
and I have lost the capacity to love. Maadhu, untrou responsibilities bled by codes of duty and moral responsibility, has retained an inno cence, a love that expects nothing in return. The girls, on the contrary, are from one point of view, uncommonly intelligent deceivers. They always think of their welfare. They know they don't belong to this house and therefore they would like to get on with me, mother and U.R. Anantha Murthy/101
sisters to a cinemasimply blew away the money! Maadhu, from one of is more than me. Notions of view, livelier, point youthful respec tability haven't dried up his passion for life. This is why girls go after him. I have gone dry because I have burned myself with duties and
Maadhu
until the time comes
sold to clear the loans he had contracted and a mere five thousand was all that was left. If I have to get decent husbands for them, I
need at least another five thousand.
They are waiting me they have to up because they they know. After
for them to go to their husband's house. for a good husband to turn up and since it is through get him, they are nice to me. Their stock has gone are the sisters of a lecturer in a college. This too father's death, the areca and coconut gardens were
get which I have to slave day and night. Mother says : I am bored. I need grand-children to play with. Do get "Keshava, And I say, "Let the girls get married first." She married, please." her old begins story : "Look, there is your sister's daughter. They are a big family. If you marry Bhageerathi, it would be of help to them."
I scream, curse and as I walk out, I shout at mother : "Tell the students
To
they don't have classes today." I know and mother also knows that I can marry only Bhageerathi. If an outsider, especially an educated outsider, comes into our family she is sure to start quarrels and will almost certainly walk away with me, her husband, seeking a new world of her own. If it's Bhageerathi, she can be controlled, held in check. My sisters know it and that's why they too want me to marry her. This is truly a world of wretched self seekers and therefore I have come to England to get out of that world. PART-II From darkness
out, and automatically
into light. The

shut
doors
slid open,
What I have
threw the people

to understand
themselves.
build and prosper and the sisters get married and I lie alone and the world pours its pity on me! Two : Mother, brothers and sisters all die, and I alone am alive and alive only in my sorrow. Anger makes me weak, weakness causes more anger and this spineless anger leads to passion and passion to loss of control and loss of control to ruina tion. I should hew stones, carry mud on my head, saw down trees. Or, live without action. While moving down the escalator, I told Stewart: "You know how strange these experiences are to me. Till I was sixteen, I hadn't 102/Indian Literature : 179
first in this city which is five thousand miles away from home is this : there is in me a burning anger which is devouring all my other finer sensibilities, that it is the boiling anger of an impotent man, that it is an anger which is incapable of breeding any love. I often daydream : I One : slave and grow thin and on the fruits of my labour my brothers
'If I continue to be I know our friendship I touch turns to mud, within me is : Either I
don to me. I must
a train or electric lights. I walked from one village school to another, a bigger one that's all, but walked barefoot all the same." "I envy you." friendly with Stewart for another fifteen days, will end in pure and simple disgust. Whatever wherever I walk I make a desert. The desire do terrible violence or have terrible violence
prey to the flames of a poison-woman,
seen
become
an eye on your purse", said Stewart. of men and women, they rubbed against one another, and yet remained, how separately well! Step by step they moved, and the moment they came out, flew away like wind-blown petals. The bluehued of in smiling evening June England! Daylight till nine at "Keep Bodies which make love bloom, oh, how beautiful! Keshava night! Gardens crossed the street, and seeing Stewart wave his hand to a driver who
had slowed down for us to cross, he too waved back.
become sacrificial food to the fire that emanates from her lips and waist and breast and so enter her womb, get burnt and refined and come out slitting open her stomach, a beautiful image of beaten gold. soldiers Or, there should be a war in India, we all should become and fight and kill and rape and loot ..."
in England were miserable. Living alone, from the to the and back to the walking University digs from digs the University, conversation confined to the exchange of greetings with the landladyit was sheerhell, and though I came to know a few Indians, their company was unbearable. The new life, the values I had come to England to seek I knew I could not get from Indian students. The moment they were introduced, they would ask : "How much does your scholarship bring you?" "This much". "Oh, you could save half of it". Save! Every Indian who is here with his wife has the
same desire: save, a and buy a and pop-up somehow toaster, a washing-machine, to evade customs a refrigerator, two-in-one manage
The
first three months
at the refectory. In the streets and parks the white upon him or eyed him suspiciously. Keshava got to know Stewart some three months after his arrival in England, and that too at an antiapartheid Like all meeting. he had begun with the weather : "Oh, it was a bad winter Englishmen we had last year. I have not seen anything like it these many years." women looked down U.R. Anantha Murthy/103
saw a much more frightening duty and take them all home! Keshava materialism the Indian students than Stewart did among his among own countrymen. But Indians were the only friends he had then. The white boys had their girlfriends and they would go out together and sit on benches
Keshava had responded : "I like snow. I am in fact waiting to see snow make everything look white." When the conversation was going his diary, looked into it, and on in this way, Stewart, opened said : "Next Thursday, could you make it to my digs? We'll eat if that is all together, right with you." Stewart had come like a shaft of cool moonlight into his life. But Keshava
was afraid of too deep a friendship which might envelope and trap him. He thought that it wasn't any longer possible for him to respond in any depth because he felt that his inner being had become a home for corpses of the past, and for self-pity.
Polite, decent, well-bred life is certainly better even though it may be superficial. Even after he had become quite friendly with him Stewart asks, 'May I come? Will you be free?' The talk between them is nearly always about Indian metaphysics, assis yoga and economic tance to developing countries. Keshava knows that Stewart is basically
an European, that his soul has to choose the path of decent conduct
and healthy living. He would like to flee from pain which is part of human relationships and would prefer a sterilized, anti-septic society. Human in India bloom in slush and squalor : the feet relationships
often get be stuck in the mire; but sometimes there is a new flowering and
in it. Stewart's
won't able to
India
stand
is an
the
India
dirt and
of sentiments
the squalor,
and
the
mysticism
sweat
: he
the
smell of men and animals which precede the mystical India. Keshava knows that his feet have got stuck in the mud. But he also knows : there
are of men water who but in have looked sat on on burning with the think but the to In who rocks, benign of the never I do. thought not of he way have denied love Stewart, welfare sits He of themselves and have saints the a drink remained don't world! and look smok cursed. into the get creation
speechless bornonly Stewart ing On one the
amazement. men be
land
decent may
dissatisfied another appears
brooding does and not entered
cigarette contrary, decent
after he
diary all his answers.

bing. The man's
Every year he goes to Europe,

motto : he should cause
mountain-clim
hurt or inconveni
to others; he has to be fair; he should not keep others under to him nor is he to be obliged to anybody. If Keshava asks obligation him to lunch or dinner, he in turn invites Keshava. If he is to go past ence
someone he
sneeze or cough in the middle of a conversation, he says, "Excuse me, please." Perhaps even when they sleep with their women, they don't go beyond what is considered decent. Stewart says that it is so
with them because
says
"please,
excuse
me."
Never
belches;
if
he
has
to
nor indulges 104/Indian
in self-praise.
they
are
a nation
of
shopkeepers.
He
neither
likes
One
day while drinking
beer at the Uni
Literature : 179
versity pub, Stewart had said, "India is the first country in the world to say that knowledge of the soul is the chief end of life." "Yes, true. But that is for priests and mystics. We don't have the self-criticism that is essential for decent living! From the point of view of society, self-criticism is more important than a knowledge of the soul. In India the world is one for these individuals
for those who are not involved."
who feel involved,
and another
conversation was of absorbing interest; and yet it was the beer had the of the inner being and that thirst soothing quenched in At one end of the opposite wall, a brought happiness. in live-coals a red-flowered stove; curtains; warmth-spreading, bright, the light, dull and dim. In a corner, on the sofa, there is a girl, smoking and she rests her head on the chest of a young man, her in desire. But this evening the sight evokes neither eyes half-open nor desire. The barman cleans and wipes the glasses and whistles envy
The
softly. He looks at us and winks and Stewart says, "Two bitters, please." The barman draws the beer and brings the mugs to us. I come out of the bar and the inner being again goes dry. Under the dull street light the trees look shrivelled and resemble beggars on Indian roads. It is cold and foggy and I shiver. "You will catch a chill. Walk is again
sured
Keshava
pace.
fast, boy," says Stewart and moves fast. sees the difference between his life and envious. Stewart's
his energy, He conserves does not waste
Stewart's
it in
and
and again
life, thinks Keshava,
has a mea The day His ways

quar pointless
he is so at home too with his parents. bickering. Perhaps begins with a 'good morning' and ends in a 'good night'.
are decent and good mannered. But look at me : there
is some
rel, some nuisance

sofa is torn, chairs
everyday!
have only
Even at the college

three legs; the
it is no different
room
: the
staff
is a veritable
hell! All the four castes are there, and accompanying them, envy and Four hells of raging fire, really. However much one might jealousy. try to avoid falling into one, one does into one or the other. Once and character assassination two people meet and talk, back-biting I am in a group and begin. I have gone through it all. Whenever leave it after a while, I turn back because I suspect that they have already begun to discuss is with me. Here nobody
me. That is why the habit of looking back ever turns and looks. Both at home and in
the college I am a being full of self-pity, anger and envy. My going I knew, would cause my people much difficulty away to England, and yet I am here. I know, I have done it in sheer selfishness. "We are now in Oxford street, a big shopping centre," said Stewart. But the inviting, attractively-stocked showrooms did not U.R. Anantha Murthy! 105
on Keshava. If, on the other hand, any powerful impression had to the Westminister's St. Paul's Cathedral, they gone Abbey, Hyde or Chelsea his eyes would have seen and under Park, Bloomsbury stood : the library of his English literary world would have rung bells and appropriately. 'Or, is it this? My mind grasps only the already
known and
make
world search India!

we have
experienced.
No
unknown
doors
and
This
make me stand and gasp in wonder. Columbus went in of a new land and when he discovered one he thought it was is what I should doors
and in an wonder
open
and
present
a new
tell Stewart
unknown
: if we search
suddenly never
we get what
on us
not
knownwhen
this
decends
and opens
then stand see a
the closed
morning
and carries
evening and we
us into a new world,

had seen Because and even
we will
we will when
transported
astonishment.
if Stewart comes to India and meets the yogis he cannot his ways of decent, well-bred behaviour. Like Koestler he be lost in thinking : "Do I get up and close the meeting or will the yogi himself rise and bid me good-bye? How are guests transcend too would
expected I go my to behave brother's in this country?" This he is the tragedy. or Wherever commits futurewhether prospers
to India, met a yogi but was all the time drawn only was busy picking his nose in public! And I see here only images of sexual union! Carrying my past I walk the Oxford streetlike a tortoise which carries its crusty back wherever it goes. to a man came who And even
the unknown appears before us we grasp only the known part of it. I came to England and hoped that here I would be face to face with the unknown and the unmanifested. But, no. It did not happen. Koestler
suicidewill
be a judgement passed on my life. I a from my brother and since then I received letter Yesterday, have been like an ox which is bitten in the behind by a wasp. from it all, and in This is why I came to London, to escape
Stewart's
am not close a salesman
company;
but
I cannot
unburden
myself
to
him
because
family like ours, should he fit shoes 'My son, born into an orthodox on the feet of all and sundry? I raised my voice and chided her. I was happy when my elder sister was appointed a teacher in a middle school. My uncle, Shamya, who had never visited us all these years, came and created a scene: 'A boy, an orthodox brahmin boy, should he work in a shoe
to him. Just before I left for England Maadhu became at a shoe shop on Rs. 200 a month. Mother was distracted.
shop?' Swallowing my anger, I kept quiet. I can't for my be blamed for any of these events nor am I to be blamed the If they think I was being selfish, fault moving away to England. is theirs. I slaved for them all these days. And I argued with myself 106/Indian Literature : 179
a that there was nothing wrong in Maadhu choosing he was made and looking after the family for a while. the pooja room and wept and prayed to the gods and get married before going abroad and said she didn't she would be alive or dead if and when I returned. And while
know whether
job for which Mother sat in nagged me to
I saved 10 a month, caught hold of a in England and saw to it that Rs. 200 a month reached Punjabi blackmarketer home. Mother and sister must have been happy. I, in turn, had a feeling that I had done a part of my duty to them. it a letter came from mother : Maadhu, One day unexpectedly himself : said, had given up his job. Then came a letter from Maadhu talents that till now were hidden even I have discovered 'Brother, from me. I have written a novel! A publisher has liked it much. The
money I get out of it, I shall pass on to mother. And from now
I cannot work at the shoe store. I shall live by writing.' I onwards read the letter and felt very angry. But perhaps also felt some envy. which had not revealed itself to me had May be the unmanifest revealed itself to him. It might show the world that I was really useless. is pes A few days later Vimala, my sister, wrote : 'Brother, Maadhu she has in the mother to him the five thousand rupees tering give from the coconut He bankthe she garden. says money got selling each.
that some two of his friends are ready to invest rupees five thousand If mother gives him the money, he says, he is going to buy a printing press. His first novel has come out. He now wears pyjamas and jubbathe way his other friends do. I hear that he drinks now.' I became a flame of anger and wrote to mother : 'Don't give him a paisa', Maadhu wrote back : 'You are wicked. You as were here you kept my talent suppressed. long you
to my
are poison. So Friends came

myself and
for mother.
dry slaved heart selflessly
help,
showed
me
that
I could
write
and
earn
for
And
I did write a novel.

envy. Don't think Don't that us.
That
I do
must have
yourself know not
filled your big

that that you you have stacked
with
unbearable for
flatter
away Rs. 500 from the family money

for a fact. This also I know : to others,
for your own use.

you appear a
I know this
man,
decent
and
But if you do have a soul, ask yourself whether you me. But why should I worry? I am going away. behaved with right You need not think of me or my welfare. You be happy.' And then a letter from mother : from beginning to end it was about maternal
I wicked.
etc. The moment has come. Accept I love, family ties, obligations must that what Maadhu has said about the money is true. But why is he so unkind? I kept away the money because I wanted to go on a pilgrimage and visit temples. But whatever it is Maadhu will think U.R. Anantha Murthyl 107
of this as the meanest What shall I do?
of my acts and
this image
of me will not die.
Keshava wrung his hands. The disturbed one in the mind knows no peace. He first loses his sense of decency and then his ability to become a saint. In useless squabbles and disgusting smalltime quarrels the inner life of the disturbed one loses its sensitivity, becomes crude and then it gets fossilized. He becomes selfish, stingy, and dreams of his own happiness. what will happen? were to find this out and write to me, The sad thing is that I have so much Nothing. pity for myself that I gloat over my sin, blow it up, and enjoy and indulge in it. Like the spider caught in its own web I am caught in my own thoughts. The saint realizes that the path of pleasure is short. I shall never attain to a sensitively profound or saintly view of life. If Maadhu
On the contrary, without ever tasting happiness, I shall crave for it; without even achieving I shall continue to play with transcendence, in self-pity and envy; and I shall neither feel nor my thoughtslost create any love; I shall continue to live in the hell of self-love. The
saint and the decent man are self-contained entities and find
be
in their own selves. But I ... I play with myself, I can make love only to me! I begin with and end in my own self. I tie myself up in a knot and then, loosening the threads which make the knot, I examine each, over and over again; I admire my ability at self-examination, self-analysis and fall in love with my own ability to do so. Or I shall in love
slave them, service
pleasure
with my own
the children a house after
shit or become
Bhageerathi, I beget and and them
it. And,
curse
then,
them, :
I agree
to
mother's and for my
suggestion, for build even
marry for
wallow then ask the
in
self-examination save to money extend
government
If Maadhu
invitations popular ... or
superannuation. lecture,
I visualize
doesn't
to ... he or dies
die ... or if he becomes

drinks, not a his sleeps haunts with is successful ghost
a successful
scores keeps ... of
novelist,
women, pestering
gets becomes for
novelist, me
money
and
Stewart the cause India, cars, meets
becomes
a member
realizes that Indian mysticism is an saadhus, him to make a better man but cautiously avoids experience in writes a it, lovely book, delivers talks over the getting entangled B.B.C. and even when he becomes old remains tall and slim ... is Saturday and the shops are open till half-past six, you "Today saints and essential
know. Look at the
of the developing stays in air-conditioned
Party, works hard for becomes an M.P., comes to countries, moves about in air-conditioned hotels, of the Labour
the cigarette 108/Indian
he had
people
borrowed.
busy
shopping,"
said
Stewart
and
returned
Keshava
felt affection,
and
even
Literature : 179
kind
of
reverence
for
Stewart
who
was
younger
to
him.
PART-III To Keshava, is a pleasure. He loves to look at window-shopping little red It is the articles beautifully displayed, carrying pricetags. summer now and there is a sale. Glass panes have bright stickers "Gala sales". A fifteen pound suit is only nine pounds. announcing In shops for women, there are naked dummies and there is a lady Which one is genuine? Which the busy covering up their nakedness. doll and which the lady? "That is Selfridges, one of the biggest shop says Stewart and then asks, "Shall we walk ping stores in Europe," or take a bus?" "We walk," says Keshava with his hands in his jacked 'How straight he walks! And, he doesn't have bow-legs like me. Behind him is the Oxford Street, shops like Selfridges and the English which can convey the subtlest of thought and, therefore, languages he walks straight, and with confidence, the food is hot, I quarrel; and I quarrel I use Kannada; But whenever I discuss
pockets and looks at Stewart and thinks :
subtle I use Englishan English I don't have a language which can give expression to my whole the roots of the tree which being: pendant banyan point sharply earthward are but a tangled mass in the sky: neither Black nor White but Copper gone to rust that's me! "See this Wimpy bar. It's open all night. And if you come small section of our decent It began
rain-soaked country", warmth said and
into the future! And me! If with Maadhu and for all this that is anything profound or which to Stewart's ear is a pain!
to drizzle
air is Keshava. light!"
two in the morning you'll see a and lesbians." societyhomosexuals and Stewart cursed the weather. "This cold,
to "Oh, I the want dust the you and sun. don't blinding I want know sun life. what of I you our want are
around
preferable
talking about.
head and
"Sorry,
Stewart
You
don't
see
know the blazing

what you ought
sun which hits you on the

not to see and do what you the
makes
ought
is a
not to do. The

congenial to the
you
sun makes
only to
you kind of stupid,

who are
you know. Ours

passion, it was
weather
those
without
yogis, not to those who are in love with this earth. The
died we went cremation
day my father
noon
and
burning that's all. On the hot sandbank, I cremated and down to my ear a nerve tingled.
hot. Just a few crows disturbing
ground.
It
was
summer,
the heavy
hot silence
my father. From my forehead I was perspiring, my eyes and lips were wet, and I did not know whether I was happy or unhappy. U.R. AnanthaMurthy/109
I didn't have any feelings. The sun swallows up all our feelings. But here in this cool country it is possible to sit before the fire and decently discuss the world." "I'm thirsty. Shall we have a beer? I have never intensely experi enced death. Ours is a society which is sterilized and centrally heated." In a by-lane they saw a bar with a board which read "Gun Barrels" and
round a circular table. Some five or six young men were playing darts and one of them kept the score. In a corner, there sat a fat middle-aged woman in a tight and flashy dress, playing on the piano. A few old men who had gathered round her were singing. The piano stopped. The woman got up and the men clapped. She bowed and went round
looked for a cosy corner. The hall they walked into it. Keshava was full of men and smoke. People sat on small round stools placed
with a plate in her hand, collected a few three-penny coins and a few a shilling into her hand. Stewart said, penny coins. Keshava dropped "You are being overgenerous. Come, it's too noisy here. Let's go into
another room."
smaller room was more comfortable, and looked almost like the University Mermaid bar. There were a few couples sitting drink ing beer and reading the papers. "Do husband and wife have to come here to read the papers?" asked Keshava. "The middle class frequent this room. The other room has the The working
can't
classes.
the
Here,
extra
the beer
costs a penny
not that. The
more.
Not that they

save they
afford
pass
come
on to the piano
here because
penny.
It's
player.
they find
And
no
make
pleasure
her get drunk.

here. Their
penny
they men
They
are
don't
not
found here. Our people

or pleasure."
accept class divisions
without either bitterness
Keshava went to the counter and bought two pints of bitter. Silently they finished their drink. Stewart got two more pints. After the second, quite soothed, Keshava felt like talking inti mately : Stewart. When I was at the college "I must tell you something,
aim is to do well at their studies and get out of the of poverty. No games, no friendships, no boyhood pranks: they slave in order to be well off later. The other is irresponsible, does nothing, play's games, joins strikes and wastes timelike my brother. I belong to the first group. My whole aim was to get a first Their whole clutches 110/Indian Literature : 179
and living became a my father died. His death came too suddenly, to studies and go in for a job. Mother asked me give up my problem. We have two kinds of students in our society: one, a set of bookworms:
Those
class in every examination. there wasn't any money coming Though from home, I went to Bangalore, joined a free hostel managed by a social worker. He had a big reputation. He went from house to house, collected rice, money etc., and ran the hostel. I revered him. He looked a real Gandhi-man. The hostel was run on truly satvic lines. who cooked for us be recitations from Those who did not attend The inmates had to clean would did it freely for us. Every morning there the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagvadgita. the prayer meeting did not get their food. their rooms and also the lavatories. The
social worker himself used to get up very early, milk the cows and churn the curd." "It's too idealistic to be believed," said Stewart. Keshava stood up and saying, "Wait, there's something more interest
ing coming," went to the counter, got two more
"Since it was a small hostel four or five of us had to share a room. After a couple of months the social worker told me, 'you sleep in my
room. It's "Yes more convenient the if you rest. He want was to a study'!" homosexual, wasn't he?" I understand
pints.
I remember with pleasure the intimate kind of contrary, it me. After I into the in the friendship gave got University, company of girls, my homosexuality almost disappeared. You know, the whole has to do with the health or the lack of it in one's sexual question life. You have to look for the right kind of remedy. Unlike many other Christians, I don't believe in sin. In life there is 'health' : there is 'sickness.' The important thing is whether one has a sense of fulfill
ment. If one can have
Keshava was disappointed. His past which caused such disgust in him had not even touched Stewart. I went to a public school. You may be surprised but "Keshava, I was a homosexual. But I don't have any bitter memories of it. On the
In fact, I need
report. We
it through
your
help
start
here.
homosexuality
then
it's
no
disease.
You
have
heard
have
of Woolfenden's
laws concering
should
movement
and
What do you say?" Stewart smiled. Keshava homosexuality changed. was angry but kept his silence for a while and then he said :
"What
too was a homosexual and since he had been in love with the to walk manager of the hostel, he became jealous, angry, threatened out, then he wept, then left the place. After two days he came back cook and again he wept. I lost my self respect. I lost my manliness. They
I put with in order to continue my studies. If stand the humiliation I hadn't agreed to his suggestion, I would have been thrown out of the hostel. Two years 1 was there and it was hell. On the lavatory walls the inmates put a plus mark between my name and his. The
you
don't
understand
Stewart
is
this.
You
don't
under
U.R. Anantha Murthyl 111
with text got destoryed there, Stewart! And this can't be understood book solutions of psychology." because I dislike zulum wherever it it. To "I am sorry, Keshava, that's a sin which me, malf.es somebody else unhappy. From that point view of you are right. But I am afraid that I cannot agree with you when you say homosexuality 'What incident, what details kind of man?' "The had brings with it a hellish experience." of my life will 'shock' the 'coat' of this
a white skin is the hallmark of beauty." "You amaze me!" "When Sri Krishna was young, Radha was dear to him. And she was white as milk. Later, when he was more mature, was dear to him. But it was a relationship which was platonic, Draupadi
girl at the counter is good looking," said Keshava. The beer spread a feeling of well being in him. "She is O.K." he smiled and added, "but this I will say. Yours is the right attitude." "Please don't forget that I am from a country which thinks that
in which there was no touch of desire. And she was of dark, cloud-like I am, for the present, enamoured of the white skin. For complexion. is Kashi and a place of pilgrim Rameshwara, my generation, Europe them only after And Vivekananda and we age. Tagore, recognized you certified them." "I like copper-skinned, more experienced
"Sure, woman
sari wearing girls. And, than you in this area."

I am yet to know. And
you know, I am
my hair is already
is a world
going grey and I am thirty." "Shall we have another beer?"

tasted two vodka. small I've come to England vodkas."
"No,
to
thank
you.
I have
Let's
not yet
have
have
experiences.
"It's not good to mix drinks. But, O.K. we shall have a vodka." When Keshava was in the toilet he wondered again : 'which part of shock What's the secret of his poise? Shall I tell lif will Stewart? my it. "Look him of tht dream? No, I myself don't like to remember I will six ..." can't. be he Stewart some five or no, May again years ago explain it away. I do not want anybody to enter the inner recesses of my mind. Better I stay in the darkness of the womb.' After the vodka, Stewart got up said : "Shall we go? Where do we go?" "This is your evening, you tell me." After they came out of the bar, Keshava said haltingly : "Shall we go to a nightclub? I would like to look at the girls, and if possible ..." Stewart bowing like the Maharaja of Air India, said, "Right! you are Dante and I am your Virgil! I shall 112/Indian Literature : 179
show you the hells of London!" PART-IV "If we go in search of experience, you know Keshava, what we have already decided on," Stewart laughingly said. has to come to me through "Yes, but even that knowledge And I am a person
have
we get
ence.
my
who has had no experience

value."
experi and therefore
words
don't
any
in Piccadilly I have heard there is a place called the Come, let's go. I shall take you to the underworld Roaring Twenties. of London." I should like to be initiated there into a new life. With "Come, us initiation means a second birth. With 'initiation' I become, back home, a twice-born." A thrill passed through Keshava when he saw Picadilly delirious
"In a corner
in the neon
went on a pilgrimage because he once saw Dharmaraya naked. And on this pilgrimage he found Chitrangada.' made him smile. A bearded man carrying a poster shouted :
lights. This is a world not of men but of pleasure-loving with beer and vodka : angles He became dreamy. He forgot that in England men did not walk with their hands on their friend's shoulders. He automatically put his hand on Stewart's shoulders and walked. 'I am like Arjuna who and Draupadi The thought in bold letters
"Sinners, awake. The end of the world is nigh!" Stewart said : "A crank" and moved on. A Salvation Army man went about collecting money. There were Chinese, Indian, Italian and French restaurants:
there were cloth
Here
here,"
was god's plenty. "The

said Stewart. 'One
shops,
shops
which
sold
Roaring
I am
Twenties
sure of:
fancy
articles
and
mementos.
should
my
be somewhere
were the
of the great Angirasa, who was a devout disciple of the I had an uncle who had become a yogi; and, a mother who Rigveda: didn't have ghee to eat her food with but kept apart some to light lamps in honour of the household gods and now this I, me, of this illustrious ancestry, am going in search of new experiences and look for the Twenties! It means I don't have ing Roaring strong simply roots, that I am a person men in India.' without a strong backbone like many young
descendants
thing
ancestors
The talk he had with Stewart about saints, decent men, experi and maturity came back to his mind. 'Did my ence, inexperience father die a troubled soul, and never in control of his experiences? U.R. Anantha Murthyl 113
Is my uncle Subbanna also wandering about the ashrama at Badri disturbed and not in possession of his experiences? I should tell Stewart the story of my family and see how it affects his liberal mind. Father was the eldest son. But, then, why did he hand over the running of the family to his younger brother, uncle Shyam? Mother keeps saying : 'What was the yield this year? How much 'A' quality arecanut and how much 'B' quality? What was the total profit? You wouldn't have to worry had he paid attention to these questions. You could lived like a prince.' of Bharata or Prayer, recitation on Rama's birthday, sit on the steps of the temple, read Bhagavata Valmiki in Sanskrit and expound it in Kannada; draw up horoscopes for the village children; on Gowri festival, ask all the women folk, conduct have
and
other-worldly affairs, uncle Shyam meticulously pursued the worldly affairs. He was very busy, going to Sagara, Shimoga, chasing files in offices and courts. And, whenever anything happened in the townit could be some quarrel or property division of some familyuncle we didn't have much ancestral Shyam would surely be there. Though there would be cases And, property, always involving us at Shimoga. in the kitchen it was my auntUncle wifewho ran it. Shyam's Mother's word carried no weight there. 'For a little ghee, for a glass of milk for you, I had to go and stand before her' remembers mother. This of course didn't last long. The gulf between mother and aunt widened and the house broke up. Father didn't say 'yes' or 'no'. He his share but along with it he got heavy debtsdebts which came got in with uncle Shyam's way of running things. Even after this, father remained he had to go to Sagara or Shimoga unworldly. Whenever to sell arecanut, he would avoid and selling buying for him. it and ask uncle Shyam to do the
cattle get lost, write talis pooja for them; if someone's for them; and if there was any time left, twist yarn into sacred threads! If mother needed a new sari, he would go to his younger brother, haw and hum, and then, apologetically say, 'See, she says she needs a sari. Well, it needn't be an expensive one. And if you don't have cash, buy one on credit from Barry's shop.' This would make mother bitterly angry. In this way, if father got himself lost in mans
The strange thing, however, is this : there was a transformation in father as he grew old. He who used to be always composed began to splutter like salt sprinkled on fire. His mind, lost to this world,
suddenly began to think only of money. He pulled out all old records, dusted them, and peering through his thick glasses, drew afresh old accounts.
him a
One
day he sent for uncle

swindler. He went
Shyam,
after men
shouted
to
at him, called
he had lent
shameless
whom
114/Indian
Literature : 179
small sums of money long ago. Even when he was in the pooja room, he would suddenly stop the mantras, shout for his wife and ask.
"Have the arecanut huskers come?
At the dren; and, nothing was to be done without his permission. time of his death, father became a pathetic creature. Why did he become pitiable, a man who had roots in his ancient tradition? Were his beliefs all hollow? Was he, like me, a man who was divided within himself? Uncle Shyam's story was, however, different. All the money that he earned through lies, deceit and cheating, he spent on prostitutes
and on court woman. officials. And, His he lust didn't wouldn't give up, even even leave when he a was common caught, scavenger
go out, they hide areca in their sari." As his sight became The hearing hard, his interest in worldly matters increased. he heard the sound of a footstep, he would spring up and is it?' None was to speak a word against himneither wife,
Keep
an
eye
on
them.
When
they
dull, and moment say, 'who nor chil
and
his
became
house.
tutesat Now
a revolting
Any shape
Shimoga,
he camped he had prosti sight. Wherever in in the his Basarur, farm, backyard of Sagara,
that had a sari around it, he would run after.
has eaten his durbar is all over. Money, he has none. Diabetes into him. But he speaks all the time of the sanctity of the home, of family tradition, and of the gods!
The
brother,
the local
Subbanna
monastery, One
strangest,
however,
to
Keshava
is
his
father's
uncle.
and
At a very young
a most
age he left home, joined

practicing-brahmin. would be
youngest
became
He
by was uncle
would
someone.
eat only once

he
a day, he had two small lungis,

wear, A mad said and the other
rigorous,
both gifted
on the
would
clothesline,
witness for a
washed
to itthis Lungi.
and
left to dry. Once

man that
it happened
and clothes begged
and
were
Keshava
Subbanna not to be
way. Subbanna
came worn
gifted. But the mad man insisted.

it to him, and was, from now
Subbanna
removed
dressed only
his lungi, gave

in a narrow
onwards,
loin-cloth. He didn't go begging for another lungi that year. His day would begin at 4 a.m. He would bathe in the river, stand in Knee-deep water and pray, and holding a small bowl would go round, begging for food. He would again read, in the evening he'd take another bath in the river, go to the temple, sit near the lit lamps and read until he would sleep on the floor. Money he they went out. Afterwards never touched with his fingers. For one month in a year he would
give up even his single meal, and live on hibiscus flowers. His dried up stomach became part of his back, and his chest a bony-box. Only his eyes burnt like the cool poised fires of the Yagnakund lit with U.R. Anantha Murthy! 115
the dried
Father blessed him and Subbanna uncle bent his head down and with folded hands said : "This morning before I woke up for my prayer I thought I heard the voice of God. It seemed to say that the time had come for me to become the right to be free. But after I free, that I had earned finished my prayer I became worried. I did not know whether what I had thought of as God's voice was illusion or the arrogant ego-sense
twigs of the Aswatha tree. He would come home only on days on which father performed the annual obsequial of his father and mother. One day ceremony he suddenly descended on us and prostrated himself before father.
which was may be still-alive within me. I came out, collected a dry leaf of the Aswatha tree, closed my eyes and prayed : if what I heard was truly god's voice let the leaf fall face up, if not let it fall face down. have The leaf swam come
in the air, in circles, and then fell face up. I to you, my elder brother, for permission to become a For if I become one I shall to burden with the have sanyasi. you of duty to our manes, our teachers and our gods. I shall discharge have to perform the last rites for myself. I want to know whether I have for all this." your permission Subbanna uncle stopped, and stood like a statue, with his hands folded. Tears welled up in father's eyes. None spoke, then father, much moved, said :
"You are a great soul. Who am I to come in the way of the word of the God? Let birds and beasts and all living beings be blessed by your tapas."
Father banna uncle. called us and asked to prostrate ourselves before Sub
"You
prostrate
come
before
back as a sanyasi.
you now, it won't
Then
be
I shall touch
your feet. If I
sister-in-law, walked down the steps, And father called after him.
wiped his eyes, called mother and asked her to light a to the household gods. ghee-lamp Subbanna uncle again prostrated himself before his brother and without turning to look back.
Father
auspicious."
"Child, do take care of the vital fire that keeps your body healthy." uncle wore the ochre robes, and carrying a begging Subbanna bowl and a staff, went to the Ashram at Badri. Stewart and Keshava The signboard building. a mean-looking, five-story and the opening Twenties, Roaring time was shown as 10.30 p.m. "It is eight thirty now. And, so what do we do till then?" Stewart asked. said 116/Indian Literature : 179 stood before
"As you say. Let's go some where else." On the way, groping for words, he narrated the story of his father and uncle. After he finished, a question dogged him. Mother, sisters, Maadhu, father, Shyam uncle, Subbanna disturbed Stewart and himselfthey were respectively the decent in love with world or the unin ones, saints, folk, volved, or like mother who lived without any thought of the self. But, to what purpose, what end? No answer. I myself, father, Uncle Shyam uncle,
and
of us has the ability to grow roots into may be Maadhunone the the unmanifested and that which is beyond invisible, thought : may be we are hollow within; and may be the moment we lose our grip on the world of things, we shall be in a world of dark We have to hold on to some thing all the time because nothingness. within us there is a fearful hollowness. In our lives there is no strong core, no skill: only confusion, fury and flame. Like Stewart or Sub
banna uncle we do not know the art of forging for ourselves a sculpted,
wrought form. I do not want my life to be formed that way in the notions. That which catches fire has to light of some preconceived burn itself out; it will, in the end, be either pure flame or black cinder. PART-V A narrow, rusty, circular flight of stairs and below the stairs a man holding a placard in his hand STRIP TEASE/ON THE FLOOR SHOW. Keshava handed in two ten shilling notes and bought two tickets. When Stewart took out a ten shilling note, Keshava said, "No, you
coloured
are my guest." And started going up the stairs. He entered a room which had black curtains, and the moment he went in, all the lights went off and there was only the faint glow of a red light. Keshava
was scared and stretched out a hand, crying 'Stewart'! From no where
a girl appeared, held his stretched out hand and pulled him gently. The next minute he was on a soft sofa, and the girl was sitting beside him! In the faint red glow Keshava sat bewildered. His throat had and he asked for Stewart. "You are gone dry squeakily looking for
your frined, are you? All newcomers here at first, do the same. Then
they become all right." "Oh!" Keshava regained "This ence
some
measure
strip-tease what you haven't experienced introduce myself. I am Janet, and "I am Keshava." "Keshava! A lovely name.
club isn't like other clubs. you?"
of confidence. Here you will experi where else. Oh, I forgot to any
You
like the weather
over here?"
U.R. Anantha Murthy/117
say this winter isn't as bad "Jesus! Don't make me remember A short silence. Keshava groped "They Janet began; "We have How
as the last year's. the last winter!" for words
Is it true?"
to say something.
a Ceylonese girl with us. Her English shames mine. too well you speak!" "I can't see you. And, it is difficult to say anything in the dark. Shall I switch on the light?" He had gathered up enough courage to say this. He was anxious and worried, and wanted to see Stewart. Sounds of a few more people walking in. Sounds of them sitting down. And whispers. All those who come here prefer it to be dark. You are strange. Wait a little. Lights will come on."
He wondered whether Janet was naked; he wished she was naked; was frightened that she might really be naked. He slowly felt her. No she had clothes on her. He felt relieved, and disappointed. "We can drink here. Your name, say it again, please." "Keshava." He wished
for sherry for
he had been the first to call for drinks. Then

two.
he asked
Someone brought the sherry. But he couldn't see her face; sounds of a few more walking in. Whispers. Sighs. Vague forms all over the
room.
must have ordered walked in Everyone only sherry. Someone with a tray, said 'thanks', handed over the drink and vanished. Some body struck a match, a light here, there; a face here, there; red lit a cigarette, gave one to Janet burning tips of cigarettes. Keshava and was about to strike a match. Janet said 'no' asking him to light hers with his cigarette. The faint flickering red light went off. A curtain opposite them with dazzling light. Sounds of a piano floated in, and was illuminated a girl, dancing, and fully dressed. under the arc light appeared "She looks Keshava fear and clothed. nice, no?" said 'Yes.' When the lights came on again, Keshava's as he saw only a girl still fully
eagerness
both disappeared
From a circle of light the dancer moved into a circle of darkness, and back again into light. To the rhythm of music she moved and behind the side curtain, and removing her waist swayed, disappeared hand. The sound of belt, passed it on to an unknown out-stretched a viola joined these of the piano. The dancer appeared, smiled, rolled a chewing gum on her tongue, between her lips, and shyly drew the 1181 Indian Literature : 179
merged with those of the piano and viola. Fear made heart beat faster. Arms and arm-pits now shone in the light. The dancer shyly moved away into the dark. As the music now in her panties soared to a feverish pitch, the dancer re-appeared, and bra. One minute ... two minutes ... The black curtain, then, Keshava's descended. Eye-blinding lights were on in the room. As one woken from Keshava rubbed his eyes, unable to stand the sudden light. He sleep, covered his eyes with his palms and looked for Stewart. In another
zip of her dress down. She mimed biting, chewing, sucking actions, drew her dress up, bent her face down, turned her back to the audi ence, let her dress down to her waist and pulled it up again. "She is Rosy from Paris, really tops, you know," Janet whispered. unknown The pace of the music increased; sounds of instruments to Keshava
Stewart was sitting with a Ceylonese girl and sipping sherry. A middle-aged in a with his hat in his lap, was man, suit, three-piece with white girls, to a black The like were others, himself, talking girl. each one with differently tinted hair. There were two young black
men also.
corner
was surprised when he looked at where he had been The if room, you forgot the black curtains, was shaped like sitting. a cave, with bricks making a zig-zag path. Sofas were placed in the corner which looked like the hollows of a tree. In one corner, on a made of bricks, were bottles. There were, in the same projection
corner, a table and a chair. On the chair sat a convent-school-teacher
Keshava
to be looking woman, wearing silver-framed glasses. She appeared the owner of the club. Keshava again looked at the place he was in.
It did not now look like a cave. In a flash, it struck him: the
small plates. Keshava when he picked them, and was dumb-founded saw it say 'thirty shillings'. They might have at the most consumed sherry worth eight or ten shillings. "Stewart", he called. The one who had brought the bill said, name, isn't it, Janet?" "Is Stewart your friend's name. A lovely
with its red bricks at different levels and shapes, looked like the womb. Janet saw Keshava looking at the room and asked him, "You like the place?" He said, "Yes", and smiled. "What did it make you think of?" "First it made me think of a cave. Now it looks like the womb." "To each personI have met many friends hereit looks diffe rent." The owner, sitting in the corner, made bills and put them in
place,
U.R. AnanthaMurthyl
119
Isn't this gentleman's "Barbara, name," Janet said, "is Keshava. that too a nice name?" "If you don't have the right change, give me two pounds," said Barbara. "I shall give you back ten shillings." Keshava said it was O.K. and put thirty shillings in the tray. "Two and six, service charges, please," said Barbara. Keshava gave her the Barbara thanked him and went away. Janet held Keshava's money, hand and when when said, "Like you, all those who come here get frightened they see the bill. I am a hostess here. They charge you extra you buy me a drink. That's all : cheer up, darling."
"It is all right. Another cigarette?" Keshava asked and wiped his sweating forehead. She took two and said, "Is it O.K. one for a friend of mine?" "That's O.K." said Keshava. As the lights went off, the curtain went up. Stewart walked up in the dark to Keshava and whispered something in his ear. Just then, under the arc lights. The music began. Rosyhalf-nakedcame said Stewart, "This is a clip-joint. The women here "Keshav,"
are sharks. They fleece you. Sorry, I brought you, come let's go." Keshava was confused. He could not take his eyes off Rosy. And : cooed Janet softly
The dancer lifted her face, and with a display of courage handed over the bra to an outstretched hand. Then she started removing the muslin piece around her waist, and at last stood in her panties, moved down
"Stewart darling, no, we shall not take any more money ffom drinks, you wouldn't have to pay even you. If you hadn't ordered this. Let your friend stay." "Shall we stay back for some more time, please?" pleaded "All right," Stewart said and walked back to his place. The Keshava. half-naked Rosy moved and swayed and played with the thin muslin cloth over her breast. Then she started removing her clothes one by one, took off her bra, and shyly covered her breasts with it. Keshava had seen the breasts of brahmin women stepping out of the bath-room after their purificatory bath and of women who cleaned the cow shed. He had felt nothing then but now he was scared and felt hot all over.
on the divan, turned her back to the audience and removed the panties. Slowly, she turned her face, and half-facing the audience closed her eyes shyly. Keshava's eyes burned with desire; his body became feverish and taut; his tongue flamed in desire for a kiss from her lips. "Has she turned towards us fully?" He was frightened. Standing in a circle of
120/Indian
Literature : 179
Barbara. Stewart came in and Keshava said, "No, I want to go in." "No Keshava, let's go elsewhere. breasts. We will go elsewhere." "No, I have to go," Stewart's grip as Barbara
Inside, there were
all eyes, and looked. Does she, like the automatic fire, he became doors of the underground trains, fully open up her self? No, pretend she ran in. ing shyness, The curtain fell. Glaring lights came on. Keshava with his eyes closed asked Barbara, "Can I go in?" Janet asked said, She and
the
"Keshava, is old and
come."
But
has
sagging from
which
said
Keshava, led him in.

room, on
released
doors of
himself
each of
three
wiping her glasses with her handkerchief, the second three The first room costs you two pounds, explained: and ten and the third five pounds. In the first room Rosy drinks room she stands sherry and removes only her bra; in the second beside you fully naked, but in the dark; and the third room she stands before and Keshava in a voice faltering, a Barbara looked at Keshava like boy who had asked gone dry. the wrong question of his teacher and said, "Oh, mystery fully posses sed!" No, sorry, we don't have a license for that." "I shall go into the five pound room," said Keshava, handing you naked under bright lights." "Isn't there a fourth room?" asked
was written : MYSTERY IN and DARKNESS, REVEALED. Barbara,
BY YOUR REVEALED MYSTERY SIDE, on the last room, MYSTERY FULLY
over a five pound note. "Service charges, ten shillings, please," said Barbara. Keshava her into the She led him the room and closed the door gave money. after her. The wall paper was all torn and the room looked shabby. The hearth hadn't been cleaned and it was covered with ash. At the centre of the ceiling, there was a naked bulb. In a corner a broken chair
earlier jacket.
and a few empty beer bottles. Uncarpeted, the room looked lousy. But more than all these what made the whole thing unbearable to was the act of waiting. At last Rosy knocked and entered Keshava the room in her bra and panty and then closed the door. in the grip of fear, closed his eyes. He recalled his Keshava, feelings and then, taking courage, was about to remove his
Rosy said, "No, you needn't strip!" Keshava couldn't speak. Rosy removed her bra and yawned. Keshava bent towards her for a kiss. Keshava "Sorry, I don't like to be kissed," said Rosy with composure. U.R. Anantha Murthyl 121
felt weak one
in his knees a nude
and
sat on the floor.
As in a museum
some
caressed her legs and thighs stealthily, Keshava and moved up. She turned her back to him and removed her panties, and then faced him. Keshava's eyes closed on their own. He shivered and sat in a huddle on the floor. When he opened his eyes she was pulling up
touches
Struck
dumb, in a state of shock, in a state of dream trying to recall a dream he had dreamed. delving, Digging, finding mud, ear thworms, rusty coins, cracked pieces of pottery and below it only a void and within the void a room and within the room a girl, naked and then a void and a slimy worm. Did uncle Subbanna feel the same void at the end of his quest? Did he? Fasting, and looking for god in caves and forests, and then, at the end, face to face with the ultimate which was rather like what he had
Stewart.
her panties, and she said "sorry" and yawned. What had a moment ago stood up like a hissing snake had become a little slimy worm! He felt like a rat in an oily cauldron, trying to run and losing its grip, and falling and he saw it as if he was seeing even this in a dream.
faced?
The
first thing is to get out of this clip'joint
and join
"If you want to spend the night at my flat, it will be ten pounds. I live in No. 10, Islisgton Street, Hampstead. But don't tell Barbara. Give me five pounds now. The rest, after you reach the place," said Rosy.
the
Keshava
in
said "no"
and
shook
his head.
committe
'Stewart
room,
will face this at and
end
a clean
on the highest floor of a house most ennobling ideals.' I should get out of this clip "I shall not behave with you don't have money, you bring it much freedom here. Don't tell you a kiss."
centrally-heated
a committe-room
which
set for itself the highest
joint first. there the way I've done here. If you when you come along : I don't have Barbara. Come, get up. I shall give
Rosy spoke and as she spoke she bent down. No. I don't want anything. This void, did this void like a falcon always eye my father who tried to lose himself in prayers and penance? To give an unwilling I had better get kiss and to give it in order to extract more cashno, out of this joint. Barbara knocked at the door and called "Rosy!" winked at him and then she said, kissed Keshava, "Coming",
went out.
Keshava 122/Indian
shook the dust of his plam, wiped Literature : 179
his mouth and feeling
to London; to add up to sixteen seemed plus the room-rentit Keshava felt dazed. If the money had been sent to mother, pounds. she could have run the house for two months. The same old worries were back. First I had better get out of this clip joint. What if Maadhu commits chair. by D.fi. Shankar suicide ... He heard Stewart and got off the broken Translated from Kannada
went and sat on the chair and lit a cigarette. exhausted, Five pounds plus ten shillings; plus two ten shillings; plus thirty shillings plus two and a half-shillings for beer; plus the return fare
calling
* The
between non-isomorphism kinship terms and and cultures appears to have led to some confusion referred to by Makarand in his note. On Paranjape we found A) B) that :
rules
between
in the translation. examining
the two languages This has been carefully,
the original
is Keshava's niece i.e., elder sister's daughter; Bhageerthi It is only Keshava's sisters who are still unmarried. younger Ed.
U.R. Anantha Murthyl 123

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intensity. But how genuine

if I leap his beard, : all

Stewart excuse had is akin me." been

in a tired voice and put the pipe in his

Pound The Petals

Stewart see, check

laughed and verify

here England But,

in poetry. Oh, boy!" 'How

true! While walking

fodils that a bell rang,

milk, fruit juice

and hot coffee:

at him. Why, what a

was beaming living opposite

our tiny window-bars

not yet held a girl by her hand."

all the time.

See, I think I have it, what you call critical self-awareness.

happiness meaningfulness. their lives." "Look, and

mind has twin facultiesof is a development,

in our country, Literature : 179

with our upper

class girls anyway,

say your life went

from the sixteenth year, whenever In a country where birth control

men there whose

in the style of Beatles

until the time comes

into light. The

threw the people

first three months

speechless bornonly Stewart ing On one the

dissatisfied another appears

brooding does and not entered

cigarette contrary, decent

diary all his answers.

Every year he goes to Europe,

nor indulges 104/Indian

day while drinking

beer at the Uni

who feel involved,

life, thinks Keshava,

has a mea The day His ways

rel, some nuisance

Even at the college

world search India!

us into a new world,

am not close a salesman

job for which Mother sat in nagged me to

are poison. So Friends came

I did write a novel.

filled your big

away Rs. 500 from the family money

for your own use.

of this as the meanest What shall I do?

of me will not die.

mother's and for my

suggestion, for build even

wallow then ask the

self-examination save to money extend