The cuckoo that Flew away-5

5

As Jeeva heard footfalls and voices of people talking, he raised his head from his hands that rested on his rifle. He saw Johnson and Rajavelu coming, with Jakkodan, who had thrown the dead stag on his shoulder, following them.

He took a kerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his face with it. Summoning a smile on his lips, he got up and walked towards them.

“Well, my boy... What are you doing here?” asked Johnson. “Why are you sitting here? Where are the others?”

“They have gone ahead. It seems he is teaching rifle-shooting to Nisha,”

Johnson was surprised.

“For lessons in shooting?” said Jakkodan. “You should not have let them go. It is wrong to have brought that donkey along with us.” He was referring to his daughter in disrespectful terms.

“Wait, wait, Jakkoda,” interjected Johnson. “What’s wrong if she learns how to shoot?”

Jakkodan dropped the dead stag on the ground. Its lifeless eyes were frozen in stark fear.

“Saami, I will go and fetch her.” Jakkodan began walking. Johnson stopped him. “Why do you go looking for them? A shot in the air, and they will understand that we are trying to call them,”  He raised his gun and pressed its trigger. The noise shook the forest.

In a short while Nisha and Thyagarajan came back to where they stood. Jeeva was hot under the collar as he saw the two together in close proximity. Behind the two of them, he imagined big teardrops falling from the sorrowful, longing eyes of Ganga. But he held himself back and did not utter any word. For he thought that if he says anything, it might be provocative and one thing might lead to another and the atmosphere may become nasty. They had their lunch and time passed as they chatted merrily.

And there came the nightfall.

Johnsone turned to Jakkodan. “Are all the things in place?” Now Nisha was slightly gripped by fear. She became aware that the hunt for leopard, the deadly and fierce leopard, was just beginning. She felt a faint cold fear thrilling through her veins

“Everything is in place, saami,” said Jakkodan.

A comfortable machan.was atop a tree near a watering hole amidst thick growth.

“Nisha, be quiet,” Johnson cautioned, speaking in a low tone. “No talking, no coughing, no sneezing. Anything like that and our lives may be in danger.” He began climbing up a ladder leant against the tree.

One by one followed him quietly. Thyagarajan, who had preceded Nisha, gave a hand to her so she can heave herself up. Jeeva didn’t like this and his face darkened.

Everyone lay on the treetop platform without even a whisper. Only their breathing could be heard. They were thrilled by the susurration of leaves scratching and scraping one another and the flapping of wings by sparrows as they flew past. The shrill calls of jungle birds were heard intermittently. On the machan, a deathly silence ruled under the shadow of an impending death.

Soon the moon came up. The forest was suffused with its cool and glittering light.

It was as if the forest had been lit up blue and was surrounded by ethereal beauty. Five rifles in five directions stood pointed. Nisha was agape with fear, awe and portent. Her heartbeat gathered pace. Her bosom heaved up and down. Everyone waited breathlessly for several minutes..

Suddenly there was a stir in the forest. Johnson, with his eye fixed onto the front sight of the rifle, saw the sleek body of a tiger with yellow and black stripes moving towards the watering hole. His grip on the rifle tightened. His eye observed keenly through the sight.

“Appa, appa, a tiger has come.” said Nisha in a low voice.

“Sh,” someone hushed her.

“Don’t move,” warned Johnson.

Thyagarajan, being an impetuous hunter, instantly turned his rifle towards the watering hole.

Johnson was aghast but recovering himself he said curtly, “No, no, not now.”

The tiger - yes, it was a tiger, not a leopard - instinctively sensing these small sounds, looked up. Its eyes were like fiery balls throwing red light. It looked penetratingly as if it was probing the very soul of the area in front of it.  Its body was clearly visible in the moonlight. It was rather old but still sleek and supple. When it turned and showed its flank, a peculiar characteristic of its skin became apparent. From the neck to the front part of its shoulders, it did not have black stripes.

‘Ah,” said Johnson and became emotional. He whispered something inaudibly.

Thyagarajan raised his rifle.

“No, no, not now,” Johnson warned him sternly, quickly recovering himself from his sudden faraway thoughts.

The tiger looked around and roaring softly put its forelegs comfortably on two stones. It bent its head and began sipping at the water.

Time dragged ponderously under the weight of an impending death.

As Johnson was taking aim and was waiting for the moment to press the trigger, another tiger came into view from among the clump of trees.

Thyagarajan again raised his rifle.

“Thyagarajan, I warn you.” said Johnson. “I have been waiting for that tiger for the past twenty years. If you try to shoot it, I will shoot you like I would a dog,”  He spoke as if he was demented. His voice was soft but firm. It was clear that he was serious. Thyagarajan, realising that, checked himself and laid down his rifle.

Nisha was terrified. She had never seen Johnson in such an angry mood. Now she was afraid more of Johnson’s fury  reflected in his face than the tigers below.

The just-arrived tiger joined the other and lapped water from the stream. After a few minutes it began licking the body of the female tiger. The female tiger too stopped drinking water and, like a pet dog at a home might do, it turned its neck docilely to receive more attention. The male tiger licked its neck and face.

“Shoot them down, Mr. Johnson, shoot!” Thyagarajan whispered insistently as the hunting rage gripped him.

“Shoot sir, why are you still holding back?” Jeeva’s voice came from behind. Nisha slowly extended her hand and touched Johnson. He felt her fingers trembling. But he did not raise his rifle.

“I plead, Mr. Johnson,” said Thyagarajan. As one who could wait no longer, he raised his rifle and put his finger on the trigger. Johnson forestalled him by quickly turning away Thyagarajan’s rifle with his. As Thyagarajan’s finger simultaneously pressed it, the bullet whizzed past and hit a tree somewhere.

The tigers now sensed danger and turned back. Now Johnson raised his rifle and shot twice in the air. The tigers ran into the bushes in lightning speed. Shrieks from small animals and plaintive cries from birds were heard.

“What foolishness,” said Thyagarajan.

“What sir?” said Jeevanandam in a surprised tone. “Have you let them go deliberately?”

“Can’t believe it,” said Jakkodan. “I know how accurate your aims are usually, sir! If they have escaped, you must have certainly let them do so.”

Johnson, who had ignored all these comments, dabbed sweat on his face with a handkerchief and then took out his pipe and lit it with a matchstick.

“First of all, I seek your forgiveness, Mr. Thyagarajan,” he said. He then lay aside his rifle and grabbing Thyagarajan’s hand with both his hands shook it vigorously. The machan creaked. Thyagarajan was moved by the old man’s politeness.

“I am sorry, very sorry, Mr. Thyagarajan,” said Johnson. “When I saw that female tiger, I became very furious. It was only to catch that tiger that I have been living in this jungle forsaking my country and my near and dear relatives.” To hide his swelling emotions, he looked away at the birds that fluttered at a distance.

“What do you mean, sir?” asked Jakkodan.

“Yes, Jakkodan, that is the tiger that killed my wife.  That’s why I stayed back here. It entered our house and mauled Mary who gave me so much peace and happiness in our married life. If it had been a man, I would have gone after him wherever he had gone and hidden himself. I had deep and abiding love for Mary. But in a moment of weakness I was unfaithful to her and indulged in a shameful act. She didn’t utter a word of rebuke but forgave me. She could have divorced me and gone back to Britain. She didn’t. She is a godwoman. It was such a precious woman I lost when the tiger mauled her. For 20 years now I had been looking for that animal in every nook and corner of this forest. Every nerve of mine twitched to see it dying in pain slowly. But over time my loneliness and my reading of the Bible mellowed me. People who had seen the tiger that had attacked her had given me an identification mark. Today I saw that tiger - the very tiger that had kept me wandering all these years. But times have changed.” Johnson, lost in thoughts of the past years, paused.

“That tiger too has become aged like myself. Besides, it had come with its male companion. I decided not to impose upon that male tiger the very pain from which I had been suffering - separation from partner. Why should it constantly roar sadly until its death thinking of its partner? If a true Christian receives a slap on one cheek, he turns the other. At this old age, I suddenly decided not to seek vengeance. It is a mere beast. I am a human. I must have the heart to be kind and not act cowardly. I acted as how Christ would expect me to behave in reasonable circumstances.”  Johsone ended his long speech.

Jeevanandam became quite emotional and placed his hand on Johnson’s broad shoulder.

“Really I cannot explain to you how much I loved Mary. Even if I try hard and do that, you may not quite believe it. The rules of natural behaviour are the same for me and tigers, aren’t they, Mr. Jeeva?”said Johnson.

Neither Jeeva nor others responded.  They perhaps thought mere words could not reflect their high thoughts adequately.

“I commend your action very much,” said Thyagarajan in a soft voice.  His words were appropriate to the highly-surcharged situation.

* * *

Mayavigneshwar temple shone in the afternoon sun.  Just as age-old customs and ancient dharmas of the Bharat are protected and kept by generations and generations of people, the temple that was built centuries ago still stood imposingly with its magnificence undiminished. The falls around it flowed slowly and placidly suggesting the serenity of worldly-wise saints.

Jeevanandam, lying under a tree, was deep in thought. The rustling of the leaves of the bamboo bushes (what secrets were they conveying?) and the eagle circling lazily in the scorching sky heightened the atmosphere. Suddenly he heard the jangling of bangles.

He didn’t arise but merely turned his face to see Nisha at a distance. He was irritated.

“Hey Nisha,” he  summoned her loudly.

She laughed boisterously and came running towards him.

“Sit down,” he told her listlessly.

“Nothing doing,” she said defiantly in a sort of mocking voice.

“No joking, sit down,” said Jeeva. “Don’t you have a sense of shame? Thyagarajan is a married man. He has a wife at home. And with him you’re taking liberties, laughing, talking merrily and bouncing - you shouldn’t.”

“Why, what’s wrong with that?

“If you continue with this sort of thing, he will forget his wife. If a woman’s life goes to ruin because of your silly behaviour, I will strangle you and throw you into the river,” Jeeva said, shouting needlessly when his hearer was close to him.

Nisha was frightened and looked at him as a terrified child might.

“But there is no point blaming you. That cruel man doesn’t know the value of the precious possession that he has. He hasn’t appreciated how good a wife she is and behaves like a mad man. And that woman like a cow tethered in the stable is dying slowly and painfully.”

“Whatever you said is correct,” said Thyagarajan who appeared there suddenly. “But those last few words are contrary.”  He held his rifle in his hand.

Taken aback, Jeevanandam rose from his recumbent position and sat.

“Why are you scared?  I won’t shoot you down. I came trailing Nisha.... Let’s settle down,” Thyagarajan said and sat down on the ground. “Now we can talk comfortably.”

“Jeevanandam, I know your real identity,” he said. “You are a deserter from the Air Force. You are an offender.”  He didn’t use any respectful salutation to the man he was addressing.

“But I won’t shoot you down as you seem to fear. That would be very mean of me. By eliminating you, I am not going to get domestic peace: my troubles would still stay with me. Raoji’s daughter - my wife, my Ganga - you wooed. But they didn’t consent to your marrying her and you joined the air force and went away for a hardy life. Raoji tied her up with me. Jeevanandam, you’re an educated man. Tell me, if you marry a girl and even after the marriage, she continues to pine for her old lover, would you be able to bear it?” Thyagarajan thundered. His eyes were inflamed and his face was flushed.

“Come on, answer my question,” he roared. Jeevanandam hung his head and looked down.

“You won’t bear that kind of situation. I did. And I am still bearing it. I will tell you one more thing. Before I went to their town for betrothal, we heard rumours about what had happened. We knew that the father had refused to give his daughter in marriage to you because you are from a different caste. I guessed that his concern must have been that later he would have difficulty in finding matches to his other daughter. So, for your sake, I told him that I would marry his second daughter and he could give Ganga’s hand to the man she loved. He said nothing of the sort happened and it was a rumour that had been spread in the town by some people out of jealousy towards the family. I believed him because he was apparently a good man. But after my marriage, I found your photo in her trunk. I also found a newspaper clipping that said you had run away from the site of a plane crash. Believe me or not, she lives with me like a sanyasini. She is like a machine and ignores me. She doesn’t utter a word to me.”

Thyagarajan didn’t like to see Jeevanandam straight. He lowered his head and continued: “My life’s in ruins. Hunting is my lone pleasure. Feeling that I was a wronged person, I shot animal after animal and found a peculiar pleasure in it. That was until I came on a hunting trip with Johnson. Jeevanandam, I know that Love is a mighty thing. But it is one among so many feelings in Life.  Life is not built just on Love. If you are so zealous after having had some fun time with Nisha in these past few days, just imagine how hurt and painful I must have been in these last three years.”

“Thyagarajan, has Ganga been like you say all these years?” Jeevanandam asked incredulously.

“Yes. She is distant from me. Just a while ago you spoke highly of her as an ideal wife... it is such a wife that I would like to have indeed. I am waiting for such a woman. Until I went to the forest the other day, I had been planning to kill you as you had come here like a Yama. But that British gentleman opened my eyes.  I do not want to become a murderer for the sake of that foolish woman who is torturing herself even as she is living with me. Tell me, Jeevanandam, people say tirelessly that Love is divine - but should people affected by it be punished cruelly?” asked Thyagarajan, overswept by deep emotions.

Jeevanandam couldn’t say anything. He held his forehead in both his hands and trying to deal with the torture that he was undergoing.  Every word of Thyagarajan came as a sore complaint from his troubled heart and attacked him.

Ganga...! Is she a stone image?  Is she so hard-hearted that she has no feelings, no sense of domestic life? Here, Thyagarajan stands mortified. When a colleague who had seen her photo in my purse joked mischievously, I became furious and attacked him. I was responsible for the plane crash. If I again go to the air force, my guilt would be proved. So I deserted the service and I am in hiding. For something that slipped from our hands, she and I are torturing ourselves. Old man Johnson has pardoned the tiger that killed his wife. When I think of that.... how mean I am!

“Thyagarajan, Thyagarajan,” from somewhere came Johnson’s calls mingled with cries of tribal people. Thyagarajan’s reverie broke.

“What, what?”  Nisha was restless.

“I am here, sir,” shouted Thyagarajan. The three of them began walking in the direction from which Johnson’s had come. The crowd that came in search of him appeared.

“I am very sorry, Mr. Thyagarajan,” said Johnson, He was hesitant to break the news to him.

“What is it?”

“Your wife...when she had gone to fetch water from the falls, a leopard mauled her ... to death.”

“Ganga...” Shouting his wife’s name, Thyagarajan started running to his home.

Jeevanandam, shocked, stood speechless like a tree. He couldn’t believe his ears. It took several minutes for him to gather himself and come to reality.

Ganga! She didn’t live a good life. Nor did I. And because of the love for me, she punished herself by living like a recluse and  languishing.  Was this a sort of punishment that was handed out to us by Fate?

Jeevanandam did not want to see Ganga after her beautiful form had been mauled by the leopard. He did not attend her funeral nor visit her parents who had come to the hills for the last riites.

He lay in his rope-cot in his hovel and was looking at whatever small part of the forest was visible through the window. His life had been enveloped by a thick pall of darkness and overshadowed by Ganga. He had become powerless and moved like a zombie. As he lay, he mused.

The fire that was lit in the heart of Ganga raged like an inferno in a jungle and finally settled in a heap of ashes extinguishing herself. When Jeevanandam thought of the spark of his love for Ganga with a divine significance, he regretted why it began at all.

Thyagarajan! He is Patience personified! How humane he has been though his life had been struck by singular misfortune and lack of luck, 

He had been waiting with the hope that Ganga would change. He had thought that Time would heal and that even a married woman living like a sanyasini might change and become alive to her conjugal obligations. Thyagarajan’s questions enthralled him as if he had been shackled by iron chains.

‘Love is divine, people say.’ Thyagarajan may ask. ‘But should those influenced by it undergo such suffering and be punished like this?’

No, Thyagarajan, no, On this earth there are good people such as you. One must live for their sake. One must let them live.

Though Ganga is soft-hearted and clever by nature, she has made me guilty for all the injustice that she had done to Thyagarajan. 

Jeevanandam buried his face in the pillow and wept tearlessly and noiselessly.

The fire in Ganga’s heart was of no use to anybody.  In the mere ferocity of her feelings, the fire has singed the very person whom she must have respected. Though Jeevanandam did comprehend the greatness of her Love, he could not proudly approve of it. A woman is one who lets others live and prosper. Her heart, her feelings, her very life - all are spent in letting others live.

“Ganga, ayyo, Ganga,” Jeeva groaned. He bemoaned the wrongs that she had done.

* * *

“I have decided to go back to England,” Johnson told the persons assembled in his drawing room. Thyagarajan, a pale ghost of his former self, looked up. As Johnson had already given a hint of his decision to him, his face did not reflect any emotion.

Jakkodan looked at Johnson quite worriedly.

Johnson swept his glance over everybody and announced: “I am taking Nisha along with me.”

“What?’ asked Jeevanandam and Thyagarajan in surprise at the same time.

“Yes, Nisha’s my daughter.  Born of a tribal woman but I am her father. As I said earlier, Mary condoned  this one act of unfaithfulness to her. Nisha’s mother died after giving birth to her.  As Mary suggested, I handed over the child to Jakkodan. Afterwards I did not do anything against Mary’s wishes. Nisha grew up as a tribal girl out and out. I am taking this Tamil-speaking daughter to my country. There I can make her adopt herself to the new environment.”

Johnson’s uprightness and regret for a one-time peccadillo moved the hearts of his listeners.

Thyagarajan looked at Jeevanandam deeply. He understood what he intended to convey.

He inferred that Thyagarajan was perhaps thinking that he was loving the innocent Nisha and he would not be able to bear the loss. Yes, her departure from the country would be a big loss for him but Nisha was going to be a support to the companionless Johnson. Why should he stand in the way of the old man who was going back to his country to pick up his threads there, Jeevanandam thought. In his lifetime he had given trouble to many people, why should he do so to Nisha too? He decided to bury his aspirations five fathoms deep.

“I will stay here until you leave with Nisha to your country, sir,” Jeevanandam told Johnson.. “Then I will surrender myself to the Air Force authorities.” When he announced this, everyone gathered there felt that calm had settled after a great storm.

“Quite right,” the old man appreciated. “In fact, I was going to suggest the very same thing. My boy, from now on, aim for higher things.” He was brief and to the point in his admonition.

As they came out of Johnson’s house, Jeevanandam stopped Thyagarajan, held his shoulder endearingly and said in a husky voice: “I must ask for your par. Knowingly or unknowingly I entered your life like a whirlwind and have wrecked your happiness and peace. For three years in your youth you must have been burning within and turning into ashes. Times are achanging. Please, as a token of your having excused me, change!

Please send me an invite to your wedding,” said Jeevanandam tearfully.

Thyagarajan took Jeevanandam’s hand that he had placed on his shoulder. His heart had been overwhelmed by sorrow and pain and he shed tears, unable to speak a word. At that time, he looked like a wounded soldier come back from a battlefield shorn of all valour and pride.

After this there was no coming and going in Jeevanandam’s roadside hut set amidst bamboo bushes near Mayavigneshwar temple on top of the hill. The sounds of jingle bells on Nisha’s feet while dancing, Jeeva’s deep voice, old man Johnson’s loud commands to servants while ploughing the field – none of these was heard. Thyagarajan, when riding on his horse, would occasionally look fondly at Jakkodan slouching on a rock near the temple with both his hands resting on his chin. It would seem to him that the man had petrified there unable to bear the painful yearning from the disappearance of a pet song-bird that had given a few tweets and fled to a faraway land.

(ends)