110) The Ungrateful son

She is just another non descript person – pale skinned, dry eyes and a misty glance. Poornima was over 60 and limped as she walked. She was a regular to the morning arathi at the temple and would join in for the bhajans that followed.

I did not know her any better except that she was a widow and running errands for an invalid son until yesterday.

We had a discourse by the great Sundarakumar and he was discussing the Bhagavatham for our benefit. There was a particular stanza where there is query as to why Devaki was put through the sorrow of losing too many babies at the hands of Kamsa. There is no sorrow greater than losing one’s offspring and why should that venerable woman go through such depths and pangs of suffering. That led us to the concept of ‘punya’ and ‘papa” and that’s when I turned around to see Ms. Poornima flooded in tears. Something had stirred in her and so great was her discomfit that the discourse was stopped and water fetched before she regained some normality. And only after that did the talk trundle along.

She was greatly embarrassed and I accompanied her to her residence to ensure there were no more panic attacks.

I sat on those giant sandal sofas and the house was very neatly made. The drawing room was painted in light colours and that reflected the abundant sunlight. The shelf was displayed with artifacts and for a lone woman managing the house, it looked somber and even classy. Filter coffee arrived despite my protest and we sat down for a chat.

I asked,” What did your husband do for a living?”

She answered, “He was an engineer with BHEL before he passed away”. Slowly her tears started to gather strength at the memory.

Poornima said,” It was all our bad Karma. I have just one son and he was so selfish that in the end we lost it all; money, my husband, and peace of mind.

My husband put Shirish in the best of the schools and he was a bright kid. He got admitted into IISc at Bangalore and had the pick of job offers. He joined CISCO at Seatle and he was such a good boy. He would remit his entire earnings to our account in India and then we would transfer some of it back for his monthly expenses. He was that straight.

We found a bride for him and she was from hell. I hate to badmouth a woman but this one disrupted a family and has brought it to the streets.

My husband having retired had a part job and there was some trouble there. He was falsely accused of embezzling funds and that stuck him to the root. He was too self respecting and suffered a heart attack against the constant persecution.

By then Shirish had become totally domesticated and after marriage would remit $25 a month. His explanation: I have a son now and I have to save for his education in Harvard. Here we were fighting bad health and fattening lawyers and this fellow sends $25. His wife Vanaja had worked on him so much that he was now an agent of the devil and one who saw parents as having run out of utility. We would return that with the contempt it deserved.

My husband died for we did not have enough for a byepass surgery and believe it or not, within a year my great foolish son suffered a car accident in the US.

The bitch daughter-in-law instead of looking after her husband filed for divorce and custody of the child. I did not contest either and instead brought my semi comatose son back home.

I now look after him and really have no love or affection either. I know he was the cause of his father’s broken heart and death and yet I cannot run away from my responsibility. Otherwise they would be no difference between him and us.

I had a loving husband and brought this house with a lot of love and culture. And now I have nothing to show for it in the evening of my life.”

As I heard the story, I was moved by the poignancy of the tale. I thought: she indeed is a heroine in my eyes.