Sarada is a renowned violin teacher in a Mumbai suburb. She runs a music school for school children imparting the rudiments of Carnatic music. A much respected face in the neighbourhood, Sarada comes across as a soft spoken, striking eyes so typical of South Indians and speaks with a maturity of one who has seen too much suffering.
Knowing that I write for Femina, she invited me to her residence.
Driving down the narrow streets of a small colony in Santacruz, I located the landmark mosque beside a butcher shop where the chickens were let loose on the street. I find her diggings in a cramped mansion with more than 20 families to each floor; one to those dilapidated mud wall buildings fast degenerating to ruin having weathered over 6 decades. I see noisy and excited kids run all over the place and enliven the place with the clatter.
Sarada greets me with a namaste and drew me to a worn out sofa; that badly needs a new linen cover. Asking to wait she goes inside for a cup of filter coffee as I await her tale of woe.
“We were not like this and were comfortably off, both from my parent’s side as well as in-laws. My husband was a marketing manager in a multinational bank and earned well to afford cars and servants”, she told. The phone buzzed and she stepped to answer it.
“Yeah, there was some inquiry for violin classes for a 10 year old and we are already full up”, was the explanation.
“My husband Harishanker was a wonderful man, so caring in the first flush of marriage. It was only after the birth of twin daughters that all hell broke loose. Ranjana was fair and beautiful on the eye while the other girl, Kritika dark though just as lovely. My husband took a fancy for Ranjana and pampered her to no end while poor Kritika was totally ignored. Even this could be digested but not the daily jibes and taunts flung at her”.
He would constantly upbraid me for giving birth to a “black crow”. “No one from our family is this dark and from where has she taken the devil’s colour? How are we ever to find a groom?” was his grouse.
Just then Ranjana came in excitedly to inform “amma” that she topped the physics exam at school. She was barely 8 years old.
“What got my nerves was he would fling her in the air and try catching her like she was some catching practice. Not a day passed without him scolding her and rain down slaps on a 2 year old infant. Kritika was so sacred that she would have panic attacks even as he returned from office and hide behind the curtains. Even my heart would thud violently in anticipation to what cruelty lay in store. Once he threw Kritika in the air and failed to catch her. The infant fell on the ground fracturing her elbow. It was then I walked out with both daughters”.
“I tried my best to drive sense but this MNC fellow had no heart for the feelings of a two year old girl. Kritika took a long time to speak and it is only now that she plays with other children.”
“I divorced him and though he wanted custody of Ranjana, the court awarded me custody of both the kids. He was repentant but I wasn’t convinced that he had turned a new leaf”.
I asked,” What do you do for a living?”
Sarada smiled,” Money was the hardest part in the beginning. In our community, divorce is unheard off and even my parents boycotted me. Being trained in Carnatic music, I started giving violin lessons to children in the neighbourhood”.
Kritika came with a glass of water and she seemed to be like just another playful kid. I tweaked her cheeks as she scurried away. Both of twins are in the 3rd standard and Sarada tells me that they are close knit.
As I left the place, my mind kept rewinding on what the demure lady said,” I will do anything to save my daughter”. Oh! What a woman!!!
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