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None But Him
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None But Him
Tina G
Notion Press
5 Muthu Kalathy Street, Triplicane, Chennai - 600005
First Published by Notion Press
Copyright © Tina G 2013
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN: 9789383185740
This book is sold subject to condition that it shall not by way
of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold or hired out, circulated
and no reproduction in any form, in whole or in part (except
for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews) may be
made without written permission of the author.
This book has been published in good faith that the work of
the author is original. All efforts have been taken to make
the material error-free. However, the author and the publisher
disclaim the responsibility for any inadvertent errors.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
1
Chapter 2
10
Chapter 3
24
Chapter 4
35
Chapter 5
44
Chapter 6
51
Chapter 7
73
Chapter 8
79
Chapter 9
92
Chapter 10
97
Chapter 11
106
Chapter 12
112
Chapter 13
118
Chapter 14
129
s
Chapter 1
I
t was a hot summer afternoon in May. Manyata
was coming back from her office. She hid her eyes
from the glaring sun and walked down the street
towards her home. Home, she thought: Was it really a
home or a place which sheltered shattered hearts? Life
had disillusioned her and killed her feelings. She was
listless and lost most of the time. But for the sake of
her mother she tried to appear normal and chirpy.
She was lost in her thoughts, but gathered herself
when she saw a city cab parked outside her house.
Guests. She was in no mood for entertaining and
sulked at the prospect.
She entered her house with a frown and saw
her mother in the driveway with bags. Now where
is Ma going? Manyata wondered. Her mother was
sobbing and Manyata assumed that there must have
been a death in the family. She asked her mother
the same. Her mother surprised her by saying, ”I’m
going to Chandigarh forever. Enough is enough.” Then
it dawned upon Manyata that what was brewing
below the surface had come to a boil. And it sure
needed a release. Her mother Mamta Chowdhry was
a chubby, long haired, sari clad woman with soulful
eyes. Manyata knew she could not be selfish and
stop her mother from going. On the contrary, she
could lend her support and boost her courage by
accompanying her. Hell with everything else. And a
part of Manyata lightened up. She asked her mother
exactly what she had in mind. Mamta looked at her
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with tearful eyes. She shook her head and said, “No,
I can’t spoil your life and career.”
“What’s life without you Ma?” Manyata asked
beseechingly. Mamta mustered enough courage to
consent and allow Manyata to go with her.
Manyata went inside to her room, picked up a
suitcase from her dressing room, threw in some
clothes and her other stuff and came out quickly. As
soon as they started putting their suitcases in the
boot of the cab, her father’s car pulled into the street.
Manyata looked at her mother. “How could Dad be
home this early?” wondered Manyata.
Mamta told her, “I called him to let him know
that I was leaving. I couldn’t just walk out without
informing him.” Manyata raised her brows. Her
mother had to be so sincere and dutiful towards
her father even when she was leaving him for good.
Manyata thought it was better that they had left
before her father came home. Though her father,
Desraj Chowdhry, had wronged her mother, Manyata
knew it wasn’t good for a child to take sides. But she
was in for a surprise. Her father, a man in his early
sixties, was a well built, robust man. He was a selfmade man and had a devil-may care-attitude towards
life. He came towards them and there was not even
an iota of regret or remorse on his face. He glanced
casually at Mamta and then at Manyata. “So you are
going too?” he asked Manayta as if happy about it.
Manyata said, “Yes Dad, I am with Ma, ” but her
words didn’t quite strike home. Her father was cool
as a cucumber. He just asked her whether she had
informed her office or not. Manyata told him that she
would. And then they set off for Chandigarh with her
father standing outside their house as if seeing them
off.
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So Mamta and Manyata were off to Chandigarh.
What a big step they had taken! Mamta was
apprehensive about her decision, leaving her husband
at this stage of life. What would her relatives think?
They were galore, both in-laws and her paternal side.
Facing the world at such a time is difficult. When
finding a groom for her daughter should have been
the main concern, she staged a walk out. This was
nagging Mamta. But what could I do? thought Mamta.
How long could I let myself be taken for granted, used
like a doormat? When need be, act nice and otherwise
treat your wife like a discarded cloth. Hate these Indian
men.
She had served her in-laws for twenty five years.
Mamta married Desraj against her father’s wishes.
Her father, whom half of the Chandigarh called Bauji,
was a reputed lawyer. When Mamta married Desraj,
Bauji was so heartbroken that he immediately
disowned her and snapped all ties. Obviously he
didn’t approve of Desraj. “He is just a businessman
with no qualification and education to boast of, ”
rebuked Kanti Lal Bauji. But Mamta in her soft but
firm voice told him that it was Desraj or none for
her. Her elder sister Sheela was also unhappy with
her choice. “We shouldn’t have let you go to Ludhiana
for your BSc studies. This is what you were up to.
Arrey look at Bauji and your jijaji. One is a reputed
lawyer and the other a budding chartered accountant.
Complete your studies and we’ll get you married to
a doctor. You will lead a comfortable life. Don’t spoil
your life with that stuggler.”
Mamta wouldn’t budge, and one day she left a
note saying she was marrying Desraj in court. Her
studies remained incomplete. Not only her family
but Desraj’s family was against their marriage too.
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Desraj was very much in love with, and proud of,
his wife. His widow mother and younger sister hardly
approved of Mamta though. His mother was so upset
that being from such an influential family Mamta
had brought no dowry, and his sister always treated
her like dirt. Time moved on and gradually with
her dedication and diligence Mamta carved a niche
for herself in the Choudhary household. Mamta’s
mother-in-law depended upon her a lot, and after her
sister-in-law’s marriage Mamta was the only company
she had. Desraj, on the other hand, became too
absorbed in his business, and his hard work rewarded
him with success and prosperity. His success made
him arrogant and bitter. Mamta had to bear the
brunt of his haughtiness and chauvinism.
When Mamta gave birth to Manyata and called
her father to let him know that she had become a
mother, her Bauji, jijaji and sister came to meet her
in Ludhiana. They brought gifts for the newborn and
rest of the family. Desraj greeted them coldly and
didn’t accept any of the gifts they had brought, much
to his mother’s annoyance. His attitude towards
Mamta’s family remained volatile. Sometimes he
would prompt her to go to Chandigarh to meet
them, and sometimes he would refuse when she’d
ask him. Mamta resigned herself to her fate. Desraj’s
nature was very fickle. Mamta’s Bauji understood but
her sister Sheela would always try to settle scores
with Desraj whenever the two were mano-a-mano.
Sheela would always taunt him, and Desraj would
sometimes laugh at her taunts and sometimes his
temper would flare. Little Manyata would love to
be with her grandfather though. Desraj never had
enough time to give to his daughter. Manyata was
very fond of her grandfather and uncle in
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Chandigarh. They always had time for her whenever
Mamta visited Chandigarh. Balraj Singh, who was
Sheela’s husband, would treat Manyata as he would
his own daughter Sheetal. Mamta, too, wanted
Manyata to learn from Bauji what Desraj could never
teach his daughter in lifetime-values, manners and
ethical behaviour. Sophistication and humility were
the two things Mamta always found lacking in her
husband.
Manyata made a few calls to let her office people
in Ludhiana know that she would not be coming
to her office for quite some time. She thought it
better not to resign straight away. A bird in hand is
better than two in the bush, she thought. She glanced
at her mother who seemed lost in her thoughts.
Manyata held her mother’s hand in her own and
clasped it tightly. Her mother would have to start
from a scratch. Play another innings, and she wanted
her to know that her daughter would always be by
her side. But Manyata’s heart was pounding as her
mind was in a great turmoil. She had always kept
herself engrossed in her studies and then in her job,
but the memories which she had tucked away in a
little corner of her heart had come to the fore and
flooded her thoughts. She could not evade them.
The past had come to haunt her. Manyata smiled
to herself slyly. She needed to be comforted more
than her mother. Five years ago, when Manyata had
gone to Chandigarh for her cousin Sheetal’s wedding,
her whole life turned upside down. Those bitter-sweet
memories had often made her break down into tears.
She had cried herself to sleep many a night.
It was a secret Manyata guarded well. She
wouldn’t have minded sharing it with her mother, but
when she came back to Ludhiana after the wedding
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she came to know of her father’s extra-marital
liasions, and that too, with his secretary just a couple
of years elder to Manyata. Mamta was distraught
and Manyata forgot her own heartache to tend to
her mother. She often confronted Desraj too, but he
always had the last word. Manyata was no match for
him in arguments.
But now, confrontation with her inner tumult
couldn’t be avoided. Manyata was very fond of
Chandigarh. The very name of the city made her
heart bounce with joy. As a child, she would often
pester her mother with so many “I wanna go to
Chandi, visit Nanaji, ” that Mamta would give her
a tight slap to stop her clamouring. Mamta knew
going to Chandigarh was not easy as Desraj had so
many mood swings. She never wanted to ignite his
temper. But Manyata was always ranting and raving
about Chandigarh and her Nanaji. Even when her
Nanaji left for his heavenly abode, Manyata visited
Chandigarh in her summer holidays. Sometimes
Mamta tagged along and sometimes Desraj wouldn’t
allow her to, but Manyata knew her way around
her father. She would always make him say yes.
He would openly show his dislike though. Manyata
always found her father and Sheela maasi’s aversion
to each other very amusing. Sheela maasi’s daughter
Sheetal was her bosom pal. When they were young,
they used to write letters to each other, send each
other cards and call each other frequently. Sheela
never allowed Sheetal to visit Ludhiana, but Manyata
used to come for a month’s time during her summer
break from school. But how things change with time?
Sheetal’s wedding was the most memorable event of
Manyata’s life and it moulded her into an entirely
different person. The metamorphosis came at a big
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cost. She sort of gave up on life and retreated herself
socially. Her career was the only thing she held to.
They were about to reach Chandigarh. Manyata
started feeling butterflies in her stomach. She
rebuked herself, Stop it! You dumb fool. That person is
not even there. What are you fretting for?
Chandigarh had changed in five years. Manyata
looked out of the window with a frown. Construction
and land development led to complete makeover of
the city beautiful. Chandigarh’s skyline had changed.
Manyata, who knew the way to her maasi’s house,
was a tad confused as she directed the cab driver
through the sector they were in. Five years wasn’t
that long, but still time had taken its toll. As soon
as they entered the street where Sheela’s house was
situated Manyata’s heart skipped a beat. She had
tears in her eyes and a faint smile on her lips. Mamta,
her mother, looked at her confused.
The towering Eucalyptus trees, the orange and
pink Bougainvilleas that draped the walls of almost
all the bungalows of the street and especially the
Gulmohar tree right outside her maasi’s house
brought flashes from the past. Manyata could not but
look at the house next to her maasi’s but immediately
shied her eyes away. She thought her heartbeat was
loud enough for all to hear. Her uncle Balraj and
his neighbour Aakash Mahendru were partners in a
professional firm, and had built mirror houses with
separate gates and only a small fence in between to
serve as a division. Even that fence had an opening
from which one could go from Singhs’ house to
Mahendrus’ house and vice versa. The cab driver was
taking out their luggage from the boot while Mamta
pulled out money from her purse to give to him.
Manayata leaned against the taxi when out came her
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None But Him
maasi. “So you have come. I tell you Mamta, you
should have done this many years ago. I for one never
approved of your husband.” Manyata interrupted her
maasi with: “Later, Maasi, later. Shall we go inside
first?” Her maasi broke into a smile. She doted on
Manyata. “Yes, yes, come in, come in. We’ll talk
later, first things first.” Sheela beckoned her servant
and he took their luggage in. The house was cosy
and comfy. Sheela maintained her house to a T. She
was a typical Indian housewife who went about her
household chores with perfection. Manyata always
compared her father’s house to her maasi’s house. She
found her maasi’s house warmer. Her father boasted
of a big mansion but it was cold. Manyata found her
maasi’s house snug. The smell of dinner made them
realise how hungry they were.
It was nearly dark outside. Sheela laid the table
and asked Mamta and Manyata to freshen up. In
the meantime Sheela’s husband, Balraj, returned from
work and they all started with their dinner. Manyata
always found her maternal uncle adorable. A tall man
in his early sixties with a distinguished personality,
he was the inspiration for her doing C. A. As he dug
his spoon into the rice on his plate, Manyata couldn’t
help but compare him with her father. Her father had
to struggle and his hands were rough and hard while
her uncle’s hands were that of a person who never
had to do menial tasks. Well manicured, soft hands
adept to work on keyboards and keypads, unlike her
father’s who in the early days of his struggle used to
work along with his employees in his yarn spinning
factory.
Balraj asked Manyata about her field of interest.
Before she could reply he offered her to join his office
the very next morning. Sheela and Mamta seconded
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him. Manyata was overwhelmed. Sheela and Mamta
started talking about some distant relative of theirs
and then Sheela suggested that her sister become a
partner in that relative’s upmarket boutique. Mamta
surprised them all by disclosing that she had a decent
amount of money in her personal savings account
of which none had a clue. Manyata was relieved to
hear that. Of course they were not going to stay in
her maasi’s house as in a shelter. They had to fend
for themselves and make their lives wholesome and
worthy. Though they had left her father’s house, there
were so many loose ends to be tied to bring some
normalcy to their otherwise devastated life.
Sheela had got the spare room, adjacent to her
own, prepared for them. She wanted them to unpack
and keep their clothes and stuff in the almirahs.
Sheela, Mamta and Manyata talked and put the
clothes in the almirahs, and Balraj surprised them by
bringing four cups of coffee to their room and they
all sat down to drink. It was almost one when they
retired to their beds. Mamta was again lost in her
thoughts when Manyata made light of the situation
by remarking “Dad must be snoring right now. You
sleep.”
565
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s
Chapter 2
M
anyata had a very fitful night. She had dreams
of the past, a girl being embraced by a boy
while she looked on, then a guy pulling open her hair
and clutching it at the nape of her neck and what not.
She got up in the morning with a headache and went
straight to bathe. She got ready and went to the
dining hall. The smell of incense sticks burning
coupled with murmurs of her maasi chanting shlokas
in the pooja room made her feel uneasy. She asked
herself: Why are we here? Is this going to work?
She found her mother in the kitchen, washing
vegetables. Manyata saw onions lying on the
chopping board. She started chopping them. Her
maasi came and started scolding her. “You are not
supposed to do this.” Manyta queried her, “Why
Maasi, aren’t these done rightly?”
Her maasi said, “Manoo, you are supposed to go to
the office with your uncle. Don’t you spoil your hands
or your clothes! Your mother and I will take care of
the kitchen, Ok. You go and work. Then I will marry
you to a professionally qualified boy. No businessman
for you, Ok.” Manyata got irritated, “Maasi stop. I
won’t get married. I’ll live with my mother. Don’t
bring up this marriage topic again. I’ve had enough
of this. Out of the frying pan and into the fire!” Her
maasi was unbeatable, “C’mon Manoo, this will not
have a good impact. Your father will spread the word
that Mamta left him and took Manoo along. Now she
is not even able to get her married. We have to prove
your father wrong. You will be married and settled in
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