The Way Of Providence

-- this story first appeared in Crimson Feet, January-February 2004 issue --

Four 'O Clock. It was time for Raghu to return from school. His mother was watering the plants. Under her care the roses and lilies smiled their lovely smile. But they drew not her attention, for her eyes were fixed on the kurinji which blooms only once in twelve years. They presently covered the entire Nilgiris. Raghu, her only son, had been born in the last kurinji season.

The following day was his birthday.

"Mother!" cried Raghu as he entered the gates and hugged her. She removed the heavy school-bag from his shoulders and led him into the house and gave him a couple of dosas and a light cup of tea. As he ate she enquired of him all that happened in school.

No sooner had he eaten than he said "Bye bye!" and was off to play with his friends.

Raghu's father, Gopalan, was the manager of Shukla Tea Industries. He was a good natured man who never thought twice to render help to anybody. He always wore a smile on his face. However, inebriety was his only vice. He would go without liquor for a week or two and then he would hit the bottle.

The clock in the office struck five. Today's work had been unusually light for Gopalan. He set aside the files and got up to go home. He was in high spirits. As he walked home he thought of the party he was to host that night.

His wife received him at the door. Dosas and a strong cup of tea awaited him in the dining room.

"Rani, where is the little drunkard?" he laughingly asked his wife.

"Don't, don't call him by that name," she expostulated.

"A drunkard is a drunkard, you know," he said and laughed aloud. His hand upset the table and spilt the tea. Rani sighed and got up to clear the mess.

Raghu -- a drunkard? Why this nickname?

A couple of years ago, Gopalan had hosted a party similar to the one he was to host tonight. As he and his friends were drinking, one of them spotted Raghu and offered him a cup of whisky. Raghu, not knowing what it was, drowned it. Soo he was flying high. He began to march about the room like a trumpet major. From that day onwards he was called the little drunkard.

Raghu came home a little later than usual. Something told him that there was going to be a party that night. His face fell and he sulked in a corner. His mother bade him wash, and she gave him supper and put him to bed.

Much before the guests arrived, Raghu had fallen sound asleep. The guests came one by one. It was then that Gopalan found that the fridge was void of soda. He went straight to the bed room and shook Raghu awake. Raghu sat up startled and rubbed his eyes.

"Little drunkard, get us some bottles of soda."

The nickname infuriated him. "Nothing doing!" he said.

Gopalan, hearing this defiance, slapped him. Rani intervened. But Raghu countered the slap with a word. "Rascal!" he said.

"Son, son," said Rani, "do not speak like that!"

Raghu merely stared at her.

"I'll take care of you afterwards, you little drunkard!" said Gopalan and went to join his friends.

Raghu breathed deeply. His mother's comforting hand soon brought sleep to his eyes.

Gopalan himself went out and returned with some bottles of soda. There was revelry in the house. They cracked some vulgar jokes and played a few games of cards.

Rani slept not. How could she sleep? She knew that her husband would trouble her and Raghu as soon as the party ended. She was thinking of how he could be sobered.

As she lay pondering she heard the guests make a noisy exit. She braced herself to face her husband.

"Rani!" he thundered. "Wake Raghu!"

As he said this he shook Raghu. Rani tried to stop him, but was pushed to the ground. Raghu's sleep was disturbed and gone. He sat up rubbing his eyes.

"You little drunkard, " he taunted, "get out of my house!"

Raghu's pride touched to the quick. He got up to go. Rani's restraining hand could not hold him.

"Stop!" Remove the clothes and get lost!" Gopalan cried.

"No, I'll not!"

"Okay, you can keep them, you beggar!"

Raghu merely stared at him as he had stared at his mother. The words hurt him so much that he removed his shirt and said, "The shorts are mine. The school gave it me!"

Saying this he left the house, inspite of his mother's cries imploring him not to go.

The sky was dark and the weather very cold. There were a few stars in the moonless sky. A few lamps dimly lit the winding road.

Raghu was all alone. He knew not where to go. He merely walked away from the house. He just wanted to get away from his drunken father!

No sooner had Raghu stepped out of the house than Gopalan raised his hands and brought it on his wife. She screamed.

"Why did you not stop him!" he thundered. An imprecation escaped his lips.

She remained silent.

"I'll hit him and bring him back!" he roared and stepped out of the house.

What a dark and cold night! Needless to say Raghu was afraid. He just turned around and saw his father following him. He increased his pace, but heart of hearts he hoped that his father would catch up with him. He thought of his mother and longed to get back into her arms.

"You little drunkard!" came his father's boisterous voice. But Raghu seemed as though he heared it not. However, his father soon caught up with him and took him by the throat.

"Get back home!" he shouted.

"You asked me to get out!"

Gopalan relaxed his hold and said, "See, you half-naked fellow, either you go home or get lost. Thousands of evil spirits are waiting to make a meal of you."

Raghu stood undecided. Fear gripped him. And at length he turned towards home. His father taunted him all the way.

Meanwhile, Rani had been praying to Kali the dark goddess. She aked the deity to bring back her son safely home. She always resorted to prayer. It was her only prop.

Needless to say her prayers were answered.

Raghu was wrapped in a blanket and put to bed. He was shivering.

"See what I'll do when I grow up!" he thought. "I'll kill him. I'll kill him!"

Gopalan, as soon as he hit the bed, fell into a deep sleep. Rani lay awake for a while but sleep came to her too. Only Raghu lay wide awake. He heard the clock strike the perilous hour. So many tedious thoughts oppressed his tender brain. He felt feverish.

Soon after, he fell asleep. The hours of night slowly passed away.

At six in the morning Rani shook him and wished him a happy birthday! But he heard it not, for he slept the sleep from which none awake.