Translated from the original Tamil short story kuṟai mātam (குறை மாதம்) by M. S. Kanakaratnam which appeared in the 1961–62 University of Ceylon, Colombo campus Tamil Association’s magazine iḷanteṉṟal (இளந்தென்றல்). The magazine issue is available at noolaham.org. If you have any questions, please contact ez.iniyavan@gmail.com.
How terrible!
“Sundaram was hit by a car near the post office. It ran over him, leaving him severely injured and unrecognizable…”
Murthy stopped listening and took off like a bolt of lightning toward the scene of the accident. By the time he arrived, a large crowd had gathered. He pushed through to the center but could hardly bear what he saw.
“Aiyō aṇṇā!” his wail shook the entire neighborhood.
His beloved brother — his only brother — lay in a pool of blood. Just five minutes earlier, he had left home saying, ‘I’m going to the post office, I have an important letter to mail.’ Now, he lay there, motionless, speechless, lifeless…
Yes, he was dead. Nothing more than a corpse in the middle of the street.
He who was here yesterday was gone today. He who is here today may be gone tomorrow. Life is merely an illusion, nothing but a web of lies.
Murthy was shocked into philosophizing.
—
Friends and family sobbed uncontrollably, unable to hold back their grief. Sundaram’s sudden demise had shocked and saddened everyone. It was no surprise that the loss of a good man caused so much pain and grief.
Murthy could not hold his grief back either. Tears, tears, everywhere.
‘My dearest brother is no more. My brother, who sacrificed his comforts to ensure a comfortable life for me, whose only wish was that I should live a happy life, has left me, our family, and this world itself.’
Murthy could not bear his grief.
‘How he struggled to give me an education! What obstacles he faced to help me find a job. He paid the price of sacrificing his comforts only because he wanted to see me succeed.’
Choking back his sobs, he glanced at what was laid out on the desk. He had been handed the items that were in Sundaram’s pocket at the time of the accident.
A wallet, a pen, and a letter.
Sundarams had been using that pen and the wallet for a long time.
What was this?
— Murthy was surprised to notice that the letter was addressed to a woman.
Was he corresponding with a woman? Did he, too, have a romantic liaison like everyone else? Cheche! It can’t be anything of that sort.
Something in Murthy’s heart urged him to read the letter.
He opened it and started to read.
“My Darling Sarasvathi…,” Murthy was taken aback by the opening.
‘Aṇṇā had a lover?’
Overcome with disbelief and shock, he read the entire letter:
My Darling Sarasvathi
I bring you good news. The goal that made me postpone our wedding — my life’s goal — is finally on the verge of fruition. You may recall that I vowed to marry only after completing my responsibility of educating my brother Murthy and helping him find a job. That has come to pass. He is about to start his new job on the first of next month.
I’ll visit your home next week to meet your mother and ask for your hand. We’ll arrange the wedding right after that. You can wait, can’t you?
I understand the risk in delaying our wedding, and I feel your pain every moment. It’s true we made a mistake in a moment of weakness, but I share that responsibility. You trusted me, and I will never abandon you.
Saras, don’t worry about anything. We’ll be married before the truth comes out, and no one will judge us after that.
Yours
Sundaram.
Murthy reread the letter countless times. His surprise at discovering that his brother had a lover instantly gave way to grief as he learned of Sundaram’s resolve not to marry until Murthy had graduated and secured a job.
Che! Sundaram never had the good fortune to enjoy the satisfaction of achieving his dream. His life was taken before he could see his brother start a job.
Murthy felt there was something hidden in the letter that he did not quite grasp. But no matter how many times he read it, he could not figure out what it was.
He wondered how Saraswathi would grieve when she heard of Sundaram’s passing. How could he summon the courage to deliver such shocking news? Yet, he knew he must.
He recognized the village name in the letter’s address as the location of the school where Sundaram had been teaching until the previous month, when he transferred to a school in his own village.
Who was that woman?
Perhaps their liaison began at school?
The riddle seems to be slowly unraveling.
Murthy had heard that Sundaram was a lodger at someone’s house while he worked at that village school. He had eaten and slept in that house. He had heard that the house belonged to an elderly widow whose husband had recently passed away. The widow had a daughter.
Could it be her?
Murthy guessed that it might be her. Whoever it was, they needed to be informed of Sundaram’s death. Murthy thought it only proper that he himself went there to deliver the bad news.
He located the house i and stepped in through the front entrance. There was no one about.
When he called out for a second time, he heard a feminine voice respond, “Who is there?” Presently a young woman appeared, dazzling Murthy.
What a beauty!
Beauty had taken refuge within that woman. She was very attractive, despite not wearing any makeup. A certain indescribable charm radiated from her calm, understated presence.
Murthy recovered somewhat to say, “I am Sundaram master’s brother,” and stuttered, unable to continue.
Her eyes lit up, “Is that so? Come in, come in,” she invited him in and showed him to a chair.
Murthy sat down, still unsure how to break the news. All the preparation he had done for this moment evaporated instantly. He was sweltering.
How could he begin this conversation? He was at a loss.
Should he say, ‘The one to whom you gave your heart has forsaken you’ or ‘The one who was to enrich your life had his life taken away from him’ or ‘The hands that you hoped would hold you have been incinerated’?
What could he say? How could he say it?
She must have noticed Murthy’s discomort. She started the conversation herself, “Sundaram master has told me a lot about you. Even though he was staying with us for such a long time, it is only today that you found your way here,” she laughed.
‘It is not as if I am making a pleasant social call today. I bear horrible news. You are laughing now, but in a minute, you are going to wail,” Murthy lamented silently.
He had no option but to say something. In a shaky voice, he asked, “Are you Sarasvathi?”
“Yes, at least you know my name! Did your brother tell you that?”
Murthy’s heart howled again. He steadied himself. He must tell her the news.
“I came to tell you something, but I don’t know how to begin,” he hesitated.
“Don’t worry, just say it out loud,” she encouraged him.
‘Would she say this if she realized the horror of the news I bring? Aiyō, your grief is going to overwhelm you!’
“My brother… Sundaram.. He …last Saturday … he passed away,” Murthy spat out the words in fits and starts.
She reacted exactly as he had feared. Before he could even finish speaking, she let out a scream unlike any he had ever heard.
Somehow Murthy managed to tell her everything that had happened.
She sobbed, sniffed, screamed, and wailed.
Murthy sobbed along with her. He stopped grieving for his brother and began grieving for her.
They drowned in tears.
After what seemed like an eternity, Murthy handed her Sundaram’s last letter. When she heard that Sundaram met with the accident on his way to post this letter, her grief only became deeper.
She read the letter and sighed. Staring into nothingness, she moaned, “He has left me, but, but…”
Murthy felt that she was holding something back.
“But what?” he asked.
“But I can never forget him. It will be a symbol of our eternal love, that symbol…”
“What do you mean?” Murthy stuttered.
“That symbol is being formed…”
“Tell me in a way I can understand…”
“In… my.. belly…”
Murthy felt as if the sky collapsed in on him. He regarded her in shock.
Now he could read between Sundaram’s lines in a way he hadn’t been able to before.
His brother’s flesh and blood is growing within her womb.
What now?
“Does anyone else know about this?” asked Murthy.
“No one. Not even my mother knows about our relationship. Your brother lived here like a member of the family. Therefore neither my mother nor anyone else suspected anything…”
Her words were caught up in her throat.
She was silent for a few moments, but continued, “But sooner or later everyone will find out…”
In his mind’s eye, Murthy could visualize that, sooner or later, her life would be destroyed, and the world would spit on her and call her a whore.
‘Must the world label her a fallen woman? Does she not deserve a promise of a future like everyone else? Can she not live like every other woman? Is there no salvation for her?
Murthy closed his eyes and immersed himself into a deep trance, oblivious to his surroundings.
Silence reigned for a long time.
A profound silence.
‘There is a way. There is only one way in which she can find salvation.’
From some corner of his heart, a voice said, ‘Murthy, your brother Sundaram lived for you. Your happiness was his happiness. He dedicated his life for you. He even postponed the chance to wed his beloved for your sake, and lost that happiness forever. For him to rest in peace, for the sake of your dear brother, wouldn’t you do this?’
He opened his eyes as though he had reached a firm resolution, and his face shone with an extraordinary light.
He looked at her with unshakable resolve and, in a quavering voice, said, ‘I’ve come to a decision after careful thought. If you don’t object…’
“If I don’t object…?”
“I want to marry you myself.”
She was stunned and could not speak.
Silence. A long silence.
She struggled to turn her tumultuous emotions into words. Deep within her chest, words tripped over one another and festered.
Murthy looked at her face.
He could not tell if what he saw on her face was joy or surprise or shock or wonder.
After a long lapse, she started speaking again.
“Have you really thought this through?”
“Yes, I have. As far as I am concerned, it is a decision cast in stone now.”
Again, silence.
She said, “You are selfless.”
He looked into the distance, smiling to himself, and muttered, “More than my brother?”
***
Everyone was aghast at Murthy’s behavior. Not even a whole month had passed since Sundaram died. Murthy started his new job only a week ago. Yet, he had started planning his wedding. Who would not be surprised at such behavior?
People could not make sense of how Murthy could go from uncontrollable grief at Sundaram’s funeral to seeking the earthly pleasure of a wedding so soon.
No one could understand why he wanted to take on responsibility for another human being, even before he had drawn his first salary, even before he had set his finances on a firm footing.
But it did not matter what the world thought of it. Everything happened the way Murthy had wanted. Without any traditional wedding rituals, without the bustles and banquets of wedding ceremonies, Murthy wed Sarasvathi in the company of a handful of relatives.
He felt relieved to have shut the world’s mouth preemptively.
***
The baby was born.
Everyone — except Murthy and Sarasvathi — worried about the potential for a premature baby to run into health complications.
Everyone thought the baby looked just like Murthy.
That was no surprise, was it?
The baby sat on Sarasvathi’s lap, waving its tiny arms at Murthy and smiling beatifically.
It seemed to want to tell them, ‘I, too, know the secret of my birth, not just you two!’
Sarasvathi lifted her head to look at Murthy.
Her glance was filled with wordless gratitude saying, ‘You are selfless.’