Sahithi's Adventures

The Anguish

“What happened?” Sahithi asked. The older woman sighed sadly.

“What is there to say? As soon as my father came home, he went into my room.” She lived that again, her memories so fresh that it seemed to be just yesterday that it had happened.

“Lalitha!” the young 18-year-old jumped up from the bed at the sharp voice of her father. She had never seen him so angry. He seemed to be boiling with rage. She hung her head in fear, unable to look at him. “Just what I never wanted to believe!” his words dripped in pain, anger and helplessness. “How could you do this to me?”

“Father, it was not my fault.”

“Then why did he do THAT publicly?” referring to the kiss. “You must have done something to him, otherwise why would he choose you and not one of your friends?” she was confused. Was her father angry at her being kissed in public or angry that none of her friends had been kissed in her stead?

“How can I know father? I never even crossed his path! How could I know what he would do?” tears flowed from her eyes at the injustice of placing the blame solely on her. How could she be responsible for what a horny male ruffian did?

“If you had not insisted on going to the fair, this would not have happened.” She looked at him shocked at his words. He was blaming her for going to the fair instead of supporting her? “Do you know what they are saying? They say that you enjoyed being kissed! Didn’t even react or push him away or slap him!” she looked at him bewildered. “Father, I was too shocked to react.” He just waved off her objections, closing his eyes in anguish. “It is just my fate to have given birth to a daughter who brings shame to my family. How will I ever be able to show my face in public from tomorrow?” he collapsed on the floor holding his head in both hands. Lalitha was too stunned to react. This was the first time she had seen her father looking crushed. He had never shown any weakness in all the years she had known him. He had even fought for her bravely when someone had tried to molest her. “Father, do you remember the day when you fought for me in X bazaar?”

He looked at her immediately, his anger, humiliation and pain forgotten. “How can I forget that?” he recalled the incident that had been etched on his brain forever. They had been in the neighbouring town on some work that he had to finish. He had also taken his daughter with him as she was brilliant at negotiating favourable business deals far better than him. He wished she had been a son; then he would have handed over his business and gone on a pilgrimage.

The business deal had gone extremely well and, with Lalitha’s assistance, he had saved 100 gold coins. He had bought some new clothes for her and his wife happily; beaming with pride when his daughter selected a nice bracelet for him. He had refused to spend so much money on himself when he heard the cost of the bracelet. She had threatened to return the clothes he had bought for her if he didn’t take the bracelet. He had given in finally, though he couldn’t help noticing that it looked very nice in his hand, adding some dignity to his appearance.

As they were walking home, they had been stopped by a young man and his friends who were staring at his daughter with lust written on their faces.

“Get out of the way, young man. We are in a hurry.”

“I won’t stop you either, old man. You carry on. I will send your daughter after I have explored her fully.” He followed his words by catching hold of her waist, hugging her. She had responded by kneeing him between the legs, escaping his grip and joining her father, who had by then removed his thick silver bracelet, holding it between his fingers like a weapon. What followed was one of the most spectacular fights she had ever seen. It was made more special because it was her father who was beating the crap out of the thugs. Within no time, he had turned their faces into a bloody mess, forcing them to retreat.

“You will repent this old man. You will pay for this!” the young man had threatened before he limped away with his gang. They had come home safely after that, no one daring to stop them. They had forgotten about that incident but it seemed that it was not over.

“Do you think he did it because I beat him up that day?” his face showed his regret at being so violent in his response. “How could I not defend my daughter from being insulted? What have I done?” his remorse and anger now seemed to be directed at himself. She sat beside him trying to console him. He cried silently. “I have ruined your life, daughter, I have ruined your life. Who will marry you now?”

They were startled by a knock on the door. Who had come at this hour of the day? Wasn’t it enough that they were already buried in sorrow at the moment? Nevertheless, the father got up, brushed his clothes, wiped his face with his uttareeyam (a kind of long cloth made of silk or cotton used for various purposes, like wiping hands and face, to cover the head like a turban etc.), composed himself, and went to answer the door, the knock now almost insistent.

He looked at the handsome young man standing at the door. He had never seen him anywhere in his life before. The man folded his palms in greeting, which he returned instinctively. “May I come in please, if you don’t mind?” he gave way to the young stranger, unable to understand why he was unable to say no to this man.

“I have a proposal for you.”