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Devadasi
Chapter Listing
Chapter XXIV
The Swamiji was sitting on a tiger skin. In saffron robes, with his dark
piercing eyes and flowing beard, he was very impressive. There was no one else
present, as Meena had asked for a private audience. Meena knelt before him and
touched the ground with her forehead in deep obeisance. He did not speak,
merely looked at her with those deep penetrating eyes of his. She could feel
his gaze upon her as she stood up with downcast eyes. For a long time he said
nothing.
' Sit down, my child,' he said at last.
She obeyed him.
' You are spiritually perplexed,' he said. ' You are in danger of losing your
happiness. You have changed direction once in your life and wonder if you have
done the right thing.' He paused. ' Is it not so ?
' I see you know everything about me, Swami,' Meena meekly observed. ' There is
no need for me to tell you anything.'
' When you asked for a private audience, I made enquiries about you,' he said.
' You did change the direction of your life, did you not ? '
' Yes Swamiji, I gave up dancing, broke my vow to Lord Ranganatha because of my
love for a man. Perhaps, I did wrong.'
' You did the right thing,' the Swamiji continued. ' The life of a devadaasi is
a degrading life today. The pristine purity and the ancient glory of a noble
art in the service of the Lord has degenerated into a socially and spiritually
harmful institution. And it should be eliminated from our places of worship.
Hindu society is full of a number of evils but I am trying to raise it to the
purity and glory it once enjoyed. To seek love and affection and security is
not wrong. It is only natural.'
' You are very kind Swamiji.'
' The Lord will not punish you for giving up a life of degradation and choosing
one of self-respect, but..' he paused.
' Yes, Swamiji ? '
' But I understand that your..the young man has a wife whom he has discarded.'
Suddenly revelation came to Meena; she bit her lip. She had herself said once
to Ganapathy that that woman's tragedy was greater than hers.
not speak for a few second, the Swami continued. ' Is that correct, or am I
mistaken ? '
' You are not mistaken Swamiji,' said Meena. She suddenly felt a need to defend
herself.
' But that was not because of me. He had discarded her long before he knew me.'
' May be it is not your fault, but an innocent woman suffers.'
Meena did not reply.
The Swami was again silent for a while. At last he said, ' I have nothing more
to say to you my child. You are intelligent; you should be able to face your
own problems and find your own solutions. I can merely point the way.'
And the Swamiji indicated that the interview was at an end.
It was as Meena was walking back home that the full import of the Swamiji's
words struck her. Her own happiness was based on another woman's misery, for
Udayar had left his wife and taken her. How could she hope to retain her own
happiness at the cost of another woman's grief and humiliation ? But then, was
it Meena's fault ? Perhaps not. But if she had not encouraged him, he might
have gone back to his wife. How could she know that ? He might easily have gone
to another dancer.
These thoughts troubled her. She realised now that since she had heard about
Udayar's marriage, she had had a sort of guilty fecling though she had not been
able to put it in so many words. Now that she had come face to face with the
problem, she tried to analyse it and come to some definite conclusion. Was she
wrong to have taken a man who was marrie however unwillingly to another woman ?
But then, she did not know that he had a wife when she fell in love with him.
He was a stranger to his wife, might not even recognise her if he met her in
the street. Still, she was his legally wedded wife, recognised by society,
claiming respect for her status and sympathy in her loneliness. It will be the
wife who would have to break the marriage string round her neck at his funeral
and wear white for ever afterwards while Meena was only a concubine with no
right and no title to sympathy. Only mutual love bound her and her man -
nothing else. She now remembered the words of her mother when she first fell
in love with Udayar. ' You have no rights recognised by society to retain the
man you love.' On the other hand, how could she give him up ?But of one thing,
she was convinced - that her own love, security, respectability, life itself,
was not safe while another woman who had a moral as well as a legal right to
all those things was denied those things. While she was bemoaning the loss of
her child, another was bemoaning her virginity even after marriage. Whether it
was Meena's fault or not did not matter. While Meena was deeply perturbed over
this and about what the future held for her, she had at last come to the end of
her spiritual quest.
For two days, she did not speak to anyone; just sat in her room and thought
deeply. Neither Udayar nor Muthu could get anything out of her. She told them
to leave her alone for a little while and she would be all right. She did not
say it in anger or in sorrow, but quite serenely. But they could see a change
in her, nevertheless. It was not grief or the spiritual perplexity that kept
her quiet, but a deep concentration, as if she was trying hard to remember
something she had forgotten. On the third day, she had found the solution she
was searching for.
On the third evening, she had her bath, made up her face, which was unusual
these days, put on some gay clothes and came to Udayar.
' I would like you to come with me to the temple,' she said.
Udayar and Meena never went out together, in public. It was one of those things
that was ' just not done '. After all, they were not wife and husband, and in a
place where they were well known, appearances had to be maintained. In any
case, Udayar was not a great temple goer.
' You take your mother with you,' he said.
' No, it is an important occasion for me, and I would like you to come.'
Even Muthu objected, for she was a great one for keeping appearances. ' It is
all right for you to go out with him in places where you are not known, but not
in your own town. It is not nice for you to be seen outside with a man.'
Meena lost her temper. ' The whole town knows about us,' she shouted at her
mother. ' And he is not just any man. He is the father of my dead child. So,
why should he not go to the temple with me just once ? '
Meena was no longer the shy, timid girl bullied by her mother and who deferred
to the wishes of Udayar. Suffering had given her courage and self-confidence.
Both Muthu and Udayar recognised it. They also wanted to humour her so that she
could forget her grief and take an interest in life. So, Udayar went with her
to the temple. But in true, traditional fashion, he strode in front while
Meena, with the faithful Ganapathy, did her best to keep up with him a few
paces behind.
At the temp!e, after the usual worship and meditation, she called one of the
priests. ' Swami, I have come to a decision,' she said. ' And I want to know
if it is the right one. Please put some white and red flowers in different
packets so that God can give me His guidance.'
This was usual practice. A devotee, wanting to know God's mind would go to the
temple and ask for a decision. Six packets, three containing white flowers and
three containing red flowers wou]d be placed at the feet of the idol and after
Puja, the priest would pick one of the packets and hand it to the worshipper.
If he or she got the flower asked for, then the decision was right; if not, the
decision was wrong and the project or proposal should be given up. This
practice was often resorted to by people finalising a wedding, starting a
business, buying a house or property or things of that nature,
' What is it all about ? ' Udayar asked under his breath.
But Meena would not answer. When the plate with the burning camphor was brought
to him by the priest after the puja, Udayar grudgingly put some coins onto the plate.
' If it is a red flower Swami, my decision is right,' Meena announced as she
took the packet from the plate and opened it. Her hand trembled as she did so,
but her face brightened as red flowers dropped out of the paper.
' I have had my wish; we can go now,' she said.
' I wish you would tell me what it was all about, instead of making such a
mystery of it,' grumbled Udayar.
' I wanted you to be a witness to this,' Meena informed him. ' That is why I
was so insistent that you should come with me to the temple.'
After this incident, Meena became her old self again, pleasant and good
humoured and provocative. She played with and teased Udayar and he was happy,
but there was an edge to her gaiety about which he was a little anxious.
' Tell me, are you still fond of me ? ' she asked him.
' Don't talk rubbish ! ' he chided her. Moments of tenderness always
embarrassed him and he was likely to be abrupt in response.
' That means you are very fond of me, but hate to admit it,' Meena teased.
' So many months of celibacy must have been hard for you.'
' Never thought about it,' admitted Udayar.
' Yes, you have been worried about me' she said. ' But lately, haven't you been
a little impatient with all my idiosyncracies ? '
' I suppose women are like that.'
' Tell me, will you do anything I ask ? Give me whatever I want ? '
Udayar was immediately wary. ' Don't be silly; you don't need anything,' he
said.
' But supposing I wanted you to do something for me, something that is
important for both of us, will you do it ? '
' It depends on what it is.'
' There is the careful man of affairs speaking,' pouted Meena. ' You are never
rash, never foolish and never promise anything before knowing what it is -
even to me.'
' Yes, because, when once I promise, I do my best to fulfil it.'
' Just for once, could you not give me your word ? ' Meena had now become
serious.
' What is all this about, anyway ? ' he asked. ' First you drag me to the
temple, make up your mind about something or other and then, ask me to promise
things about which I know nothing.'
' You don't trust me, do you ? ' she asked sadly. ' After all that has
happened, do you think I will ask for anything that is impossible ? Anything
that will harm you or make you feel small ? '
' It is not that Meena girl,' he replied. He was almost tender. ' I know you
will not do anything to hurt me; but I do not necessarily trust your judgement
in everything, or take yours for mine in things that do not concern you.'
' But this is something that concerns me vitally. It is concerned with our
happiness.'
' Then it is all the more necessary for you to tell me what it is,' he said.
' Anything as important as that should be discussed seriously by us instead of
your taking a blind promise from me.'
' Very well then,' she said. There was determination in her tone.
' I want you to be reconciled with your wife.'
' What ! ' Udayar shouted. Nothing could have given him a greater surprise.
' Yes, I want you to take her back,' Meena said slowly. ' At present, my
happiness is built on the misery of another woman. To be neglected by a
lawfully wedded husband is the greatest misfortune that can come to any woman.
As long as she suffers and perhaps curses me in her prayers, our happiness will
always be unstable. I can never have a clear conscience. I do not want to be
the cause of another woman's sorrow.'
' But that's impossible ' shouted Udayar. ' I hate her ! I have vowed never to
have anything to do with her ! '
' But you made a greater vow. Don't forget that. When you tied that piece of
string round her neck before the holy fire, before the rising sun and the
morning star, you promised before God, to take her as your lawful wife. Yet,
you have left her to the shame and loneliness of a neglected life. You have
broken your solemn vow to God. And I have unknowingly helped you to break it.
Knowing it now, how can I be happy ? '
' Have I to go to my wife and give you up ? Is that what you want ? ' Udayar
asked miserably.
' I have thought over it deeply,' cried Meena. ' Night after night, I wondered
what was the right thing to do. I considered whether I ought to give you up
altogether, but then, I too have my rights; I too have sacrificed my career for
you. Further, if I gave you up altogether, you might not go back to her and I
would have no further say in the matter. So, I came to the conclusion that you
should be reconciled to your wife; and I will take my chance with your love.'
' Meena ! Meena ! How can you do this to us ? '
' Do you think I want you to go back to her ? ' asked Meena. There were now
tears in her eyes. ' As a woman, every fibre in my body revolts against such
an idea. But I can never be your wife. My son, if ever I have one, can never
light your funeral pyre. You need a wife and children for your status in
society. One day, may be five years; may be ten years from now, you will
regret not having them and blame me for it. And then, it will perhaps be too
late. That is why I want you to have a wife now.' She paused as emotion choked
her voice. She wiped her tears and continued. ' I will always be waiting for
you. You can come and see me whenever you want. But in your own village, in
your house and in your society, you should have a woman who can give you a
position among your friends and relations.'
' And you want me to do this ? '
' Yes, I want you to do this,' she repeated his words. ' I have not only
thought over it a great deal, but the Swamiji I went to see was also of the
same view. And as you saw in the temple the other day, God too has approved
that decision.'
They argued far into the night. Meena's powers of persuasion were great but so
was Udayar's resistance. At one point, she said, ' Perhaps, if 1 loved you
less, I would not let you go.'
' Then love me less,' he pleaded.
' When you have been with another woman, perhaps you will learn to appreciate
me better,' she said.
'How can I have another woman after having known you ?' was his answer.
' You may not love her at first,' Meena told him. ' But she is your wife and
you should treat her as such. It is your duty. As for me, I will always be
your mistress. After all, many men have wives and mistresses. It is accepted by
our society.'
' I haven't said I am going to take her back.'
' You will.'
' But supposing I don't want her after a month ? '
' It will probably be me whom you would not want after a month with her,'
Meena quipped.
In the end, Meena won.
When Muthu heard about Meena's plans, she was furious. ' How stupid can you
be ? ' she asked her daughter. ' In your circumstances, it is difflcult enough
to keep a man; but you deliberately push him into the arms of another woman who
had every advantage over you.'
' I have to do it mother, both for his happiness and mine,' was Meena's answer.
' And if I lose him in the process, it can't be helped.'
' That first thing that his wife would do,' observed Muthu. ' The first thing
any woman would do, is to stop him from seeing you. Don't you realise that ? '
' Of course I realise it, but it is a risk I have to take, ' replied Meena.
' If his affections are so fickle, then perhaps, I shall be better off withut
him.'
' That is all you care about ! Affection ! As if affections will ever give you
anything that is worth having !' and she gave her daughter up as hopeless.
At one time, Udayar would have treated such attempts by Meena to interfere with
his life with scant respect, and told her to mind her own business. But she had
gradually got a hold over him and he found it difficult to resist her. Her
reasoning in this as in everything else was so logical and persuasive. After
thinking over it for some time, he found them even convincing. ' I am a lucky
man to have a woman like Meena to love me,' he told himself. When he spoke to
Ganapathy, he too agreed with Meena's decision. `It is not right that you
should be without a wife sir,' he said. ' Chinnamma is a very nice lady - as
nice in her own way as Meena. You should not keep her away just because your
uncle made you marry her through a bit of trickery. All the people in Achipatti
will be very pleased to have a lady in the big house again.'
' But I may lose Meena ! ' Udayar protested.
' No sir, you won't lose Meena,' Ganapathy replied. ' She will always be there
waiting for you. In these matters, there has to be certain adjustments, a bit
of give and take on both sides. After all, some men have two wives living in
the same house and they seem to get on all right.
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