Sunday, February 16, 2003		Life Ties

HARISH was a Tamil Brahmin from an upper-class conservative family. His journey from a disinterested student in a vernacular school of a non-descript frozen-in-time village to heading a controversial Public Sector Undertaking, rubbing shoulders with the Who’s Who of the country, travelling abroad and being visible on a wide range of committees was the stuff dreams were made of. He was the youngest-ever technocrat and he had the unique distinction of turning around a sick unit and making a success story of it. His ten-year appointment had seen three extensions and a lot of controversy. He rubbed many up the wrong way and acquired the reputation of being arrogant.

His arranged match to Sudha was ‘right’ in every respect. She belonged to the same caste and social strata, their stars matched and their families were happy with the alliance. However, at a personal level she did not ‘excite’ him. She was too insipid and withdrawn for his liking. Over the years, their mismatch became pronounced. Being at the helm of affairs aggravated his intolerant and individualistic style of functioning. He controlled his monolith organisation in a feudalistic style. His tight-fisted budgeting and successful negotiations with business collaborators ensured that the company lift itself from the abysmal depths of mismanagement and losses but in the process also fuelled his already difficult temperament. He was a bully and one who liked to be in the limelight. The media wooed him because he gave them good copy. He was known to get into verbal brawls with people who dared to threaten his supremacy. Since he was a high achiever he got away with it, but eventually at the end of his career, the negative publicity forced him to beat an ungracious exit.

People who knew him closely could imagine how nightmarish it must be to actually live with him. When they met his wife, they empathised with her trauma without her having to divulge details. Suppressed and completely under his shadow, the untrained eye could notice that this was a relationship of unequals. She was scared to express even the hint of an opinion. People who knew the couple could see that while he had become more uncouth, snarling and hissing venomously, she had turned silent. Her eyes looked pained and her body language turned reticent. There were times he snapped at her publicly and one’s heart went out seeing her shrink in terror, preferring to crouch in a corner, away from his blazing gaze.

In the first decade of marriage, Sudha found solace in poetry. Her abstract verses and staccato one liners with abrupt half-articulated thoughts revealed an extremely disturbed mind which was not at peace with itself. Her effort at penning lines on blank sheaves of paper were desperate ways of coming to terms with her angst and thwarted desires. Through that release she silently hoped to find catharsis which would in turn give her the strength to cope with the difficult, demanding and unreasonable ways of her husband. She knew that though he imposed the strictest moral code of honour on her, he himself was footloose fancy free. There were women in his life – junior colleagues and others who he came in contact with. These were petty liaisons which he manipulated and indulged in, using his position and authority and just as ruthlessly doing away with them once his appetite was satiated.

Suffering those indignities, pretending that everything was alright and smiling stonily at social gatherings when she knew that everyone was either sizing her up or mocking her, had taken their toll on her. Never conventionally good looking, yet in her youth, there had been a freshness to her countenance. Her lithe agile body complimented her delicate features and doe shape eyes, giving her dark looks a sultry sensuous appearance. As the years went by she became careless with personal maintenance. Her wardrobe was disorganised and she wore clothes which did not flatter her unshapely body. Her facial expression became hard and attitude turned cynical. She was a closet smoker and had given up trying to expect anything remotely pleasant from Harish. Probably her only regret was that inspite of seeing her existence in this household as a curse, she was still unable to alter or dispense with it. This acceptance made her feel hopeless. Her movements, body language, verbal expression and interaction became harsh and unfriendly.

Earlier Harish’s colleagues and relatives turned to her, expecting some positive gentle strokes, hoping she would provide the balm on the bruises he inflicted especially since in the initial years she had been a sensitive listener, lending her shoulder to others to cry and unburden on. But now they had to make do with a double dose of nastiness. She turned hostile, inaccessible and outright rude. Somewhere, Sudha held them responsible for not helping her out of her private hell. This way she punished them for complying and tolerating his bad behaviour, leaving her alone and helpless to fend for herself. She would not pass on their messages to him, making it clear that they were not particularly welcome in her home especially since he neither had time nor inclination to nurture his bonds with them. She pointed out that he had become a big man, almost larger than life and was always on the move. If earlier she made up by making cursory appearances at family functions, she now studiously stayed away. Why should she cover up for him, least of all when he did not notice, leave alone appreciate it?

What made her so cold and unfeeling was seeing their only son turning into a miniature Harish. He too tried walking all over her, bullying her and imposing his diktats on her. This much she was clear that she had tolerated her husband’s uncouth ways but no way was she going to let history repeat itself via her son. Her double dose of unhappiness was therefore spilling over for others to see. She made no attempt to hide her disgust. She had become incapable of initiating or pursuing a normal conversation. Her verbalese was peppered with sarcastic comments, disdainful remarks and haughtiness which was most pronounced in Harish’s absence. In front of him she remained quiet and withdrawn. Clearly they made an unhappy miserable couple.

The years rolled by. Their son used his father’s contacts and position to secure for himself a job in the USA making it clear that he was henceforth on his own. Harish got embroiled in a major controversy with the officials in his government ministry. This time there was no one to bail him out. He had outlived his utility for the organisation. They no longer needed him. He was dumped after being framed in an ugly acrimonious battle. The Press had a field day. He was their favourite paper tiger, a destiny’s child who had risen with enormous hype having held his own, simply because "you could love him, you could hate him, but you could not ignore him" and now was being trashed most inelegantly. The Press had, to a large extent, built him up and then demolished him. This was .the ultimate humiliation. He had resurrected a dying organisation, and now when his own public image was facing demise there were no mourners. Friends and admirers on the social circuit had long since abandoned them. The little goodwill they shared amongst family and friends had disintegrated once Sudha turned hostile. At the end of the day, when they were left with no choice but to revert to their hometown, disgraced, shamed and lonely, they realised that inspite of hating each other, they had both become similar. Though they could not stand one another, they finally deserved each other. How they would go through their twilight years was something they were intelligent enough to see and be horrified with.