Many-Splendoured Love/Such People
After coming to America, Malini used to be quite nervous at first. Everything was so different. Nothing was easy to understand. She had completed college, and had studied some English in India, but she never spoke it; and she was scared even to try. She felt she will never be able to talk in English. She felt that way about everything, and did not even think of venturing out on her own. From morning to night she stayed inside the apartment. After Manoj returned from work they would go out together – to the grocery store, to the shopping center, some times to the library. Malini was always astonished by so many lights and all those new things, but she liked the library the most.
So many books! She would tilt her head left or right to read names as she walked between rows of stacks full of books. She could not recognize any names, but felt excited just to look at them. Then she would go to the magazine section. When Manoj read the newspaper she would pick up a magazine. She began getting familiar with some periodicals like Time, Newsweek, National Geographic.
Saturday-Sunday were the best. During most of the week-ends, there were many outings - to the temple, to a Hindi film, to visit some friends. Malini also waited to have visitors. She had no relative nearby, but Manoj’s sister did not live far. She came off and on. She taught Malini many things – to use the electric stove in the kitchen, to run the washing machine, to work the coffee-maker.
A year passed. Malini had still not gone anywhere else – either by herself or with Manoj. He believed that American cinema was “too fast”, other food “smelt”, and “what can one talk about with Americans?” Malini would wonder about such opinions, but would not say anything. She thought, “Why bother about things that I can not grasp?”
When the baby was born Malini’s life changed once again. Doctor, nurses, check-ups, hospital, chemist, exercise; and had to meet and talk with so many new people, had to read so much about raising a child. Slowly she started becoming less nervous. The son was named “Nij”. From the beginning Manoj kept saying, “The name has to be short, for here.” Malini became deeply happy when both Manoj and the baby’s aunt accepted the name. “Nij. My own”, she mused as she hugged the baby. “ Oh, how you have lit up my life, as soon as you came.”
After that the days went fast. She started going out for strolls, with Nij in the pram. “But no, not pram. Stroller, stroller,” Manoj had corrected her many times. She got to know other mothers in the building, and she also visited one or two of them some afternoons. With Linda a close friendship developed. Her first language was Spanish, and her English was also imperfect. Malini felt comfortable talking with her.
At first Manoj was shocked – as if he never expected all these things to happen. He did not like her to mingle with non-Indians so much, but could not tell her that right away. Then, when Malini went to the library by bus along with Linda and her daughter, he did scold her a little. “How could you take the baby in a bus? What if you fall? What if there is a sudden jerk and he is hurt?”, he had asked her.
Quietly Malini had explained, “ Would I ever let anything happen to Nij? And here, as soon as they see a child they start helping right away. They will even play with the baby.”
“Never let anyone touch him”, Manoj had said possessively, and feeling somewhat confused. Malini had smiled sweetly, and had said, “What can they do if our son is so lovable?” That had pacified him, and had brought a proud smile on his face in return.
Library-going became a regular thing. Nij enjoyed being with other children. Malini would leave him in the play-room and take a little time to walk between the stacks or to read some magazines. Along with her son she also started growing up.
At the beginning of summer she was offered a nice opportunity. The assistant librarian Mrs. Semokov had become acquainted with her. She always smiled at Malini, said “hello” to her, and played with Nij for a moment whenever she saw him. She told Malini, “We have decided to change the arrangement of books on some stacks. Shelves will have to be emptied, and then the books will have to be rearranged. I often see you passing through the stacks and reading the titles with interst. So I thought that you might like to help with this work.”
The first thought in Malini’s mind was, “ Will I be able to do it?” Then looking at Mrs. Semokov she said, “I will like it for sure, but….”
Mrs. Semokov did not let her finish, and said, “ Why don’t you think about it? If you can come three times a week, for about four hours, it would be fine. And yes, we will not be able to pay you, but in return for your time we will arrange for your son to attend the summer camp free.”
Nij was getting to be two and a half years old. It was necessary for him to see and learn new things along with other children. And she was thrilled with the idea of spending more time with books. She accepted the offer right then. She was positive that Manoj will not object to it. After all, she had been going to the library with Nij as it is. When told about this offer, Manoj did express worries as usual, but even he could see that there was no harm in it.
Two high school girls, called Kim and Dot, were also assigned to help in this project. In return they would get some grade-points. The fourth was David. He had some experience in this, and the library had retained him with pay. Malini could see immediately that he was crazy about books. He had read a lot also. He even looked like a “book worm”. He was thin, his hair was somewhat long, he wore thick glasses, and either he would be absent-minded or it would seem that he was muttering to himself. Those girls would start laughing as soon as they saw him. But Malini was quite impressed, “Is it possible to remember so much?”
Mention the name of any poet, and David would start reciting lines from that poet’s work. If a playwright was mentioned, he would start speaking the dialogues. Many times, when he saw Malini listening and paying attention, he would pull out a work by some famous author and would put it in her hands. There would not be much time to read, but she would quickly turn some pages. David would also describe events from many writers’ lives. For Malini that was like listening to stories. A desire to know more about English and American literature started stirring in her mind.
“Is it very difficult to learn all this?”, she had asked one day.
“What? Shakespeare? Thomas Hardy? Walt Whitman? Emily Dickinson? Of course not.”, David had replied vigorously. “Nothing is ever difficult. We can do anything we decide to do.”
She could not agree with that last sentence, but a seed had been planted in her that day, about studying more some day. Those two girls did do what they were told to, but their gossiping went on continuously. For Malini, the time spent with books became a source of joy. David became a friend for her – just the way Linda was. The difference was that from David she always got to know and learn something new.
The rest of the time went as before – cleaning, cooking, shopping, friends, Manoj, Nij. There was no complaint about that, but now Malini had come to know that out there was a world that was very different from the one she lived in. Almost unaware to herself, she began wondering about it.
One Saturday there was an invitation from a friend of Manoj for lunch at the nearby Indian Restaurant. Upon entering, the buffet was laid out on a long table in the front room. Malini stopped to see that, and Manoj, with Nij in his arms, went straight to the back room where the party was held. After a few moments Malini turned to go there, when she heard someone calling out her name. Looking around she spotted David sitting alone at a table. For company there were two or three books. Seeing that she smiled, and fondly said, “Oh, what a surprise to see you here.”
“I read good reviews in the newspaper, so I felt like trying it out.”, he said hurriedly, and added, “You look very beautiful.”
For the first time he was seeing Malini in a saree. It was a dark purple silk with bright pink border and “anchal”. She wore gold jewelry, and a matching “bindi” on her forehead. She blushed and looking down, tugged at her saree. Then she searched for Manoj to introduce David, but could not see him. David was still staring at her. When their eyes met, once again he said, “Malini, you look very beautiful.”
She felt more bashful, even though the compliment pleased her. Saying, “Thank you. Bye.”, she went to the back room. There, going close to Manoj, softly she said, “Would you come out for a bit? I want to introduce someone.”
He was not interested in meeting any American, especially when there were so many acquaintances around. Coming by the door, seeing David from far, he said, “Who, him? Looks like a dunce. And I do not want to meet any owlish person, who brings books to a restaurant.”
Quickly, he went back inside. Malini was embarrassed, but it was good that David had not seen Manoj with her at the door. She cringed to think how terrible it would be if he had. Manoj’s words hurt her, but she was not able to say anything in retaliation. Calling her to come back in right away, sternly he said, “ Malu, when will you understand? Never have anything to do with such people, o.k.?”
“Such people – meaning what kind, really?”, wordlessly Malini kept musing. Luckily, it did not occur to Manoj to stop her from going to the library altogether.
On Monday, David did not say anything about meeting at the restaurant. It was as if it did not happen. But casually he asked her to recommend an Indian cook-book. Malini had no knowledge of any such book in English. She said, “ We can find something on the shelf, but instead, why don’t I give you a few recipes, which you can write down, and also easily make at home?”
“Isn’t that too difficult? Can one make them by oneself?”
“Difficult? Not at all.”, she replied enthusiastically. In the cooking field she was an expert. And this way, she would be able to repay David a little for what he had given her without any planning. It was decided that on Friday, after finishing at the library, Malini would go to the Indian grocery store, with Nij, in David’s car, and would help him buy a few necessary spices. She knew that Manoj would get very angry when he found out about it, but she resolved to deal with it when the time came.
From Wednesday Nij started coughing, and refused to eat anything. She coaxed him to drink some milk, but he threw it out. He was feverish at night. Seeing how shaken Malini was, Manoj took the next day off. On Friday his sister came to be with her. The doctor prescribed certain medication on the phone. That did not seem to improve Nij, so on Saturday they took him to the doctor. Right away the doctor diagnosed it as the beginning of chicken pox. “He must have picked it up from another child, but there is no reason to worry.”, he assured the family. Malini kept wiping her eyes.
She had no idea how many days passed after this. She was not hungry, and nor did she want to sleep. The whole time she sat next to Nij. During those days the aunt managed the household. At last, on the seventh day, the fever went down, Nij opened his eyes, and gave a pale smile. That revived Malini a little. Slowly, as the spots began to vanish, he also started drinking milk, eating porridge, and even some semi-solid “Khichri”. Only then could Malini eat anything. Manoj had not allowed himself to show much worry, but he too felt relieved only after Nij got well.
After a fortnight, when Nij was back to being his playful self that Malini realized that she had totally forgotten to inform the library. She felt that she should go to Mrs. Semokov and apologize to her in person. So the next afternoon she left Nij in Linda’s care for a couple of hours, and took the bus. In the library she could not find anyone she knew. Mrs. Semokov was on annual leave. Kim and Dot’s designated work had finished, and they had stopped coming. But David should be there. She went looking among the rows of stacks, and in the reading room.
Coming to the library had reminded her of one other thing also –of the arrangement with David to go to the Indian grocery store. “Oh my god, I completely forgot about that. What must he be thinking?”, she fretted. He was not to be seen anywhere. “Where could he be? And how long should I wait?” She had left Nij with a lot of hesitation, and was restless to get back to him as soon as she could.
Pushing her shyness aside she went up to the front desk. Keeping her tone as casual as she could, she asked, “Can you please tell me where David is? Or isn’t he in today?”
Making a face the clerk answered, “Who, that bookworm David? Oh, He disappeared a long time ago. No one could ever depend on such people.”
Those same words again. Walking away Malini shook her head. “Such people – meaning what, really? And what was wrong with him after all? Perhaps he was absent-minded, but he was certainly not stupid. He was overly fond of reading, but how does that become a fault?”
She was disappointed. “Where had he gone? And why had he gone away?” Was she to be blamed?, Malini wondered. She had not been able to keep her promise. She had never given him her phone number, and had never known where he lived. “Could he have left because he felt hurt? Insulted?” She was never going to get answers to these questions.
Perhaps she was never going to see David again. There would never be a chance to apologize, or to explain what had happened. She would not even get a chance to thank him.
The work was finished, and all the books were re-arranged, but there was a feeling of incompleteness in Malini’s heart. Without any clear reason she became sad. Again she went by the stacks, and stood there motionless for a while. Then she started pulling out book after book – as many as she could hold in her hands. What she really wanted to do was to throw them around one by one. She desperately wished to mess everything up again, and to empty out the shelves again.
In reality, she just stood there, carrying the weight of those books in her embrace, – forgetting any notion of time, forgetting to worry about Nij – amidst the neatly arranged stacks.