A Love Story

My friend Raghavan did not give me the privilege to fall in love and get married.

He got me married at a young age. Then my wife was young. She is my maternal uncle's daughter. Soon after our birth, our parents got us engaged. I don't even remember our wedding ceremonies. Only one thing is clear.

After finishing the tour, they took us to a place where there was a pot. There was a lot of water in it. The outer surface of the pot was whitewashed. They had drawn a kolam on it with red clay, as if it was surrounded by a flower flag. The leaves were smeared with green paint, and the pot was placed on a new biramana wrapped in tamarind.

The priest and the attendants took us near it. To be in the middle of the pot, we both sat facing each other. The priest took a conch and dropped it into the water. Immediately, we reached for the conch, and as fast as our hands shook, we could not catch the conch in the pot. The congregation chanted "Don’t Leave," "Don’t Leave" and the women's section was the most enthusiastic in the game.

'Lakshmi! Don't let it go! Don't let go, 'they shouted. A heavy voice from the men's area said, 'Screw her arm.' I don't remember whose voice it was. Maybe it was the voice of Lakshmi's father. I left my thoughts and held Lakshmi's hand. The conch was in her hand. What an experience for the voice that warned me!

She took it as soon as she put it down, and now she is shaking it with me as if it was not a problem. I tried to grab the conch from her hand. He would not let go. With the heavy nail of my thumb, I deftly pressed it into her finger, and the conch did not reach my hand; instead, Lakshmi burst into tears. Seeing her crying, the people around her laughed happily.

I crouched down, digging my claw deeper and deeper. My hand started to hurt and when I let go of my hand that I couldn't do it anymore, the conch came into my hand. Lakshmi was seven years old then.

Now, whenever I remind Lakshmi of that, she covers her face with both her hands and laughs, "Kaluk".

Her index finger still bears the imprint of that nail.

In my friend Raghavan's marriage, there was no such indecency. It is very'simple'.

I should see and talk to my wife only out of "penance." But for Raghavan, he is a giver. He is the only one in the world who has fallen in love and married.

The one who won the prize for being the most handsome man in our college is Raghavan. No wonder Mary, the beauty queen, fell in love with him.

One evening

Raghavan arrived while I was still sleeping and awake.It was sad to see him then. The lips were parched like a person struck with a fever. When he came, he locked the door. He came close to me on the bed and sat. He had never sat so close for a day.

"What, Raghavan, isn't your body feeling well? I asked with disbelief.

He nodded in a 'hmm nothing' manner. I did not insist further. But I was just hoping that something was happening. It was as if he was thinking something and was hesitating whether to say it or not. It was more embarrassing for me than for him. In the end, Raghavan himself broke the deadlock.

From the fold of his shirt, he took a fragrant letter. I sat up and parted eagerly. The title was marked with a cross. The letter was written on two pages, "Timmy Size." It started with 'To my lord'. It concluded, "Eagerly awaiting your answer, Queen Mary."

I was not happy. I slapped him twice on the back, saying 'Shabash, bash'. I danced around him with an open letter. Nothing I did touched his heart. Then I sat down and read the letter in silence. I would see him occasionally when the letter reached an emotional stage. He knew the letter could now be compared without having to see it; after all, he had read it so many times.

It was saying the same thing over and over again. We should both get married; we have to get married somehow. " (– This is the point.

"King, what do you think?" He asked.

"Looks like the first thing is marriage," I said.

He shook his head as if to say "no" and said, "Don't make fun of me; tell me what to do." Tell me something to comfort me. "

We both thought and thought for a long time without being able to come to any conclusion. We struggled without knowing what it was doing. Night has come. Another letter also arrived.

I, being a woman, have written a letter out of shame. You're a boy. What's the hesitation? I look forward to your reply soon, "was the summary of the letter.

Okay, consent. Raghavan wrote a letter and sent it to Mary.

Most of the words used in the letter are those that I use. Raghavan read it "a thousand times" and became happy.

The funny thing about this is that Raghavan and Mary have never met alone before! It is what you get used to hearing among people, in class, in the library, in the theater, on the stage. Raghavan never imagined that Mary would have such an opinion about him. She is so proud.

The next morning, Raghavan and I were standing under a tree in the garden on the way to the library in the college and talking about the night queen plant. Mary, who happened to be there, hesitated. But she came towards us. She looked at me as she came and said in English, 'Humble welcome to both my friends'.

When she came near, she smelled like a Christian. Looking at her eyes, it was clear that she had not slept at night. She had finished leaving her wet hair dangling, and Soni's hair was glistening in aloevera. The pressed lace was dissolved. A white saree like a tumbhai flower, a lai chain round the neck, a crucifix hung below it. a healthy neck. It is embellished with five small pearls. A mouth as clean as a rose, and how well suited to those little feet were the shoes she wore!

I went to town only once on vacation. It was the last year of high school and Lakshmi came to Kanar for the first time after achieving maturity. Lakshmi 's house is on the same street as mine, four houses away from mine. I went to her house on foot. Then the morning chariot. The mud of the Kollam brick, which had just been wiped with a damp cloth, was pleasant to breathe in the heart bags. I sat on a bench in the library. The top of the bench was made of a single wide plank of yellow kadamba. They were edged on all four sides with small finger-shaft ebony chips. The board had a shimmer due to the wear and tear of use.

In front of me is a covering board with blue paint on it, a "screen" between the people who move into the house and those who are here. It has a three-quarter foot clearance along the floor. Where will we find one?

It smelled of jasmine and marjoram. That's where I smelled the scent for the first time. Whenever I consume this fragrance, I am reminded of Vatmi.

The smell was followed by the rustle of soft rubber. In the floor space of the covering board, two feet appeared together. Although they were bathed in yellow, the fine colour of the convulsive blood stream was evident on standing. Those crimson-colored henna-covered feet...The edge of the saree, with its lace border, was faintly visible. I was staring at that foot vision without blinking.

I heard a small chuckle. Raghavan put his hand on my shoulder. Those little feet in Mary's shoes were taking hesitant steps and leaving the place.

Mary's marriage to Raghavan ended. I just signed the registration form as a witness.

This marriage has created a big storm in Raghavan's house. He was unable to go to his home. He was left with no choice but to take refuge in Mary's house with a bandaged garment.

Mary's father was a priest. He watched these conditions in silence and was greatly amused.

Our college life ended and our professional life began. Business is my duty; both Raghavan and Mary worked. There is no limit to their excitement. They flew hand in hand; they floated in the sky. Seeing them together reminds me of pigeons. I was actually happier than either of them. He would keep telling Lakshmi about their co-existence, and she wouldn't get bored, saying, 'So', 'Omo', 'Hmm,' he would ask with a toothy grin, shaking his head. Sometimes even her approval seems funny, and Lakshmi will alert me before I can catch the ropes of my thoughts!

After many years of marriage, I invited the couple to our house. There was a more important reason for the call. Lakshmi would not join me outside for many years after we started our family. It was very emotional for me. She would refuse to sit with me on an equal footing in movie halls and go to the women's section. She never strays alone in public places. It is my great fault that I could not correct her on this one point alone.

I feel jealous when I see couples sitting next to each other on the bus, laughing and talking; couples walking down the street hand in hand; couples running shoulder to shoulder on the beach; tummy of happiness. But Lakshmi looks at all this and dismisses it with her crooked little red face.

For one thing, I chose to travel by train with the Raghavan couple. Suddenly, Raghavan lay down with his head on Mary's lap. Seeing this, I said to myself, "Sabash."

The young women there were stammering out of jealousy. For some, it took a while to figure out what was going on! An old Vedic man looked up and breathed out through his mouth, saying "Ushsh" and fanning himself rapidly with the tip of his Angavastra. When I told Lakshmi this, she grinned. Her nose twitches when she laughs. It will look beautiful. It was Thursday. It was my birthday. So that is Friday for Lakshmi.

Lakshmi Aarti grazes the couple around. It was new and even fun for Mary. It was the kolam placed in the door yard that attracted Mary more than the aarti. She wondered how she was able to draw these lines without missing a beat, without editing, as if she were putting what she wanted. What amazed her the most was our housewarming! How is the hand winding so tightly?She looked at Raghavan and said, "Don't make a fool of me, no do." Only after she said, "That's the truth," did Mary cry. She looked at Lakshmi 's hand with wonder.

Mary persuaded Lakshmi to sit with us in the workshop.

Lakshmi said, 'If Nara sits with you, you will be hungry by noon today.'

Didn’t you hire someone to cook? Mary said wonder.

"Cook, the lechnam is burning! Lakshmi replied rustically. Raghavan seemed to be greatly amused by this reply. I know she can't sit comfortably here. Without any other option, Mary also decided to go to the kitchen with Lakshmi.

The absence of Mary by Raghavan's side was like a handshake. He thought he could talk to him about any number of things. He put his feet up on the stool and slumped back on the chair. He folded his hands on the bed and closed his eyes, starting to sleep soundly. I rubbed him with my gaze.

I have no reserves. I put a ban on the slow cooker recipe. In the kitchen, Lakshmi used to load and unload the dishes from the stove with a wrench and carry them with her apron. Mary was standing with her hands on her hips as if she were getting ready for the dance and looking in wonder. Lakshmi was often turning to Mary and saying something with a smile on her face. I could not hear what she was saying as I stood on the steps. Even if there is a third person by her side, Lakshmi can speak secrets to her opponent by voice. Her tone of voice was such that now he knew I was standing without seeing me standing. Even the structure of her eyes is like that!

After finishing the meal and refreshments, the problem of how to spend the evening came.

Mary said let's go to the play. Drama is life for her. Raghavan asked if he could go to the beach, but neither of them could come to a conclusion. The funny thing about this is that Raghavan was saying what he said; Mary was insisting on saying what she said. Try as I might, I could not reconcile it. Lakshmi came. He asked what the matter was.

"No one should go anywhere." You can spend time here talking. The house is like a ship. Go to the garden behind. She finished by saying everyone could eat moonshine today. In our childhood, there was a me.

I think probably before our wedding takes place. It was pouring with rain. Lakshmi and I were playing on the wet floor by the nose of a little stone, tearing up the line for the write-up pandi game.

She herself sat on the goat. All phases seemed to bear fruit. I washed my face. She said, 'Okay, you are a goat.' Giving up like that made me angry, so I held back and danced. After throwing the hole and swinging, he closed his eyes and took a step at each step and said, "Rita?" I asked, "Right?" "Right," she said. Step in the middle and say 'Right? I asked that. After hesitating at first, he quickly said, "Write." Even though my eyes were covered by my hands, I could tell by the crunch of my toes that I was treading on the line. I asked "writer" again for clarity. She said, 'Right!' Happiness has come and I jump out of the grid and say, "Umbrella; flower?" I said. umbrella Let's see it as a "flower"!

We don't know if it's a full moon today. After looking at the moon, Mary asked, "Today is the full moon!" Who saw all this? He did not even know the full moon or the new moon. Raghavan said, smiling without laughing.

A change of hands has kept Raghavan and Mary eight feet away from us. Lakshmi and I stayed as guests at their house on the first day before their departure.

Lakshmi never came to that house. So I showed her around the house. It shocked her not to see feminine sophistry at home.

"What, Lakshmi doesn't even have a son in this house! " And to top it all off, their bedchamber was locked. Lakshmi refused to step foot in that room. Fortunately, Mary and Raghavan were not around.

Nothing could have startled her so much! In the bedroom, two beds were placed close to each other!

She said, looking at it, and the fact that these two beds were lying together during the day seemed to proclaim something out of character, and she was embarrassed to think and talk about it for a long time.

Now letters were coming from Raghavan. Occasionally, if I go to their district on business, I visit them and come back.

Raghavan's letters cannot be called letters. "Epic" should be said. Letters speak like that.

One letter a week must arrive. Lakshmi and I read it fondly. There is nothing else in them. Little is written about Mary and love;

It's amazing to think of me. See what magic has been done to make me forget my native home, my soil, and my siblings! Did I ever think that such a girl would come and join me?

The addiction that has taken over me is playing in my heart like a tambura sruthi; dreams are seen in the same way, even in sleep. She and I would have been born as a couple in the previous life, and I remember that even in my sleep. '-was written in such a letter.

This gem does just that. Even now, whenever I see the windows, doors, and windows of Lakshmi's house, I can see Lakshmi's image in them. I can say that her likeness is visible because I saw her standing at least on the window, stage, and door sides. Bro, did she see me from inside the closet? Even when I look at them, I see a reflection of my Lakshmi!

In the later that came a little later,

Raja, It's just bed for a week. What does the body do? I am most embarrassed about food. You know, I don't like spice at all. Every time we sit down to lunch, my muttering drives her crazy.

Without entering the kitchen, the excitement stops at the door step of the puri. There are no two kinds of maturity that can be done every day. It is only when we come to know that the difficulty of things becomes known.

After reading this, I have been confused for a long time. How to solve this outstanding account?

In the beginning, there was this small difference between us. How did it become unremembered, and how did Lakshmi get rid of it?

A few days later, I was shocked to see the letter.

"Raja", Mary, has become a problem for me. I appear to her as I am until I can tolerate her.

I don't know what Satan came and did. Do we refer to him as fate?

There were days without speaking to each other.

Mary and I both shed tears in private without knowing each other. Man, something is wrong. Both of them couldn't figure out what it was.

The night before, I went to the terrace and held the handrail on the wall, and stood for a long time without fixing my eyes on anything. Mary also came and ate likewise. The chariot would occasionally stand like this.Not a leaf moved on the trees. The moon was drying like the rain falling on the sea. Mary then began to sing. At first came a cry from him, like a cry, "I don't have raga knowledge like you." I don't even know what raga she sang. It did something to me. I don't have the words to express my grief, but I was listening to that raga music while showing my back to her, leaning on the wall with my hands, clasping my hands and shedding tears. I was afraid that if I took my hands to wipe away the tears, the music would be consumed by the temptation.

The music went through the ears and touched the heart. The blood seeped all the way through the pores and made it boil. All the nerves of the brain are scattered like stars. The body could not control its own pain and the mouth did not know me and cried out "Mary". With our arms outstretched, we walked past each other as if we were walking slowly in a dream. Let's come and hug each other in spirit and shake for a long time....

We were shocked to see this letter. Nothing ran. I don't know what to do. I expected Lakshmi to give some ideas. Some sentences reached her throat. She suppressed it and became silent. After insisting on what it was, he said nothing.

I decided to go to their hometown. On the day of departure, it became a mortuary. An important person in our family died that day. He wanted to go and put out the fire at the beginning, so he had to wait for all the preparations to be completed here.

A late reply came from Raghavan, who wrote, 'There is a departure.'

"I was expecting you." I came to know that everything would not happen as expected.

It got really bad. We couldn't decide who was crazier between the two of us. I beat her.

Injuries are all the pain for her, and anything can happen to me at any moment. Nothing is in his hands.'

I travelled regardless of fatigue and physical condition.

When the cab stopped at Trichy Junction and got down for dinner, I happened to meet Mary's father.

I guessed right. He comes from Mary's place. He held my seat and stood in silence. He could not speak, so I slowly walked towards the restaurant holding him.

He said that he would stay in Trichy for the night. He seemed to want to avoid talking about Mary-Raghavan as long as possible. He spoke highly of Lakshmi.

At this time, what bothers me the most is the fact that my beloved, who passed away, is no longer near me, "he said in the middle of the speech.

Suddenly, he looked ten years older. "As the train took off," he said in English, with tears in his eyes. The voice softened.

'Good friend, they, including himself, should thank the Lord for having you as a friend. I pray to the Lord that your mission of peace will be successful. "Mother Lakshmi, I want to offer my compliments to them."

The train stopped late at night. I came to know that Raghavan did not come to the train even though it was a holiday.

It was dark when he entered their house. Mary was praying by the light of candles. Only now do I see Mary so earnestly in prayer. There were no signs of Raghavan's presence in the house. Maybe he left home? I crouched down, waiting silently until the prayer was over. An old maid hid something in her lap and walked past me. The house was blessed.

Mary stopped for a moment when she saw me. Then she stood and cried, burying her face in her forehead with both her hands.

While they were sitting and talking, Raghavan came. He looked as if he was seeing someone and then shook his head in a "Did you come?" manner. Then he disappeared from there. Mary treated Raghavan's visit with such indifference, thinking it was like some cat had come and gone. I saw her thinness as ugly instead of beautiful, and how clumsy a woman can be.

Mutually, both of them complained about each other. What both of them said was right and wrong at the same time. What fun! Are they Raghavan and Mary, or someone else? Both were heartbroken. They claimed there was no longer a world.I was at a loss as to what to do. This time, I wished my Lakshmi wasn't with me.

I fought and calmed down by saying as much as I could, like a cucumber hurt without exploding.

Both of them came together and took me to town. all the way is thinking about them. The cart was going in a direction without escaping. I turned to hear the laughter of a lively woman. Oh!Like a brand new loving couple! On the one hand, they may have travelled to enjoy the honeymoon. A child suddenly started crying uncontrollably. Both the husband and the wife took turns trying to convince the child with great patience. An old couple returning from a pilgrimage to the north were laughing and talking to each other. Both of them don't even have a tooth between medicine.

Earlier, I had gone to Mary's house alone to see Raghavan. They both sit in Mary's study, one reading aloud to the other. Mary's study room has wonderful books. Romeo and Juliet, "Anarkali", "Ambikapati", "Laila" and many more.

But when I came to Mary Lakshmi's room that day, I remembered that she asked me, "What is this, that you are keeping only one book of Ramayana?"

It will be ten o'clock at night when I return home. It was a good winter. All my hands and feet are numb. It was just right to climb the steps of the house, knock on the door, and have Lakshmi come and open the door. All the box beds were placed in the front, and she brought a big copper pot full of hot water, which was good for washing her face, hands, and feet. I took off my clothes and left them there and put on the washed clothes that Lakshmi had given me. How much more comfortable were the clothes she had washed and dried than the white ones?

Even if she read what was written on my face and found out, I never asked what happened! I thought it was good and kept quiet. I am also worried that her poor mind will be embarrassed if I tell her. She brought some raki soaked in fruit and some milk. This food was very good for a stomach that had eaten what it found spicy during the journey.

Lakshmi said while going to bed; "The other day our cow gave birth to a beautiful calf." What you say is beautiful; it keeps our bulls peeled.'

Lakshmi has another 'world' apart from me. The house and the garden behind the house belong to her separate realm. There are a couple of peacocks. They are white in color. Her father kept a black monkey. When he wakes up in the morning, he walks from bed with his eyes closed and opens his eyes only when he reaches the place where the monkey is! The black monkey gave birth to a cub. He gave it to his daughter as a "child." Lakshmi is nourishing it and saving it. The fact that anyone other than Lakshmi brings food and does not eat it is a miracle.Even if it is five days, he will starve to death. She should come and give food to that "plant". Until now, there have been a lot of squirrels. She is holding peanuts in her hands. The sight of them swooping down from the branches and fearlessly gnawing on the sea urchins is unique. All over her shoulders, they play casually. That's all I can get. It will run in one flow. We are all "sinners." They do not belong to us!

If something goes wrong, I don't have any kind of letter or letter until it comes from both Raghavan Mary and those who helped it.

I got the information only after a long time. That Raghavan and Mary got divorced from Mary's father-in-law.

This news has crushed me. Lakshmi was unharmed and remained as usual. This is how it began; I kept lamenting that it had become like this. Lakshmi was speechless and said only once. I kept getting the feeling that this is how it could go.'

Why is Lakshmi like this? I think she gave an opinion. But this shock did little to pull me out of it.

Raghavan came back with his family, remarried, and became a Hindu again.

Mary never remarried until the end. He still knits the same white sarees as he used to knit them when she was studying in college.

Roughly, Raghavan and Mary will never meet. Both will shed tears upon meeting. For a long time, both of them would sit apart and stare at the floor. Then, after a few words, they parted again, shedding tears.