The Disappearing Uncle. D. K. Rajagopalan
‘Well, older men are often mature. And our Kummi is a very good cook, very good. So that will not be an issue.’
Kummi recoiled, hitting her head against a cupboard behind her. She barely noticed though. A man twenty years older than her? He would be closer to her father’s age than hers!
‘What are you saying? That is too old. Kummi is only fifteen,’ her father said.
She sighed in relief.
‘I will leave you two to discuss this,’ the broker said, getting up. ‘The family is a good family. And you would be doing a good thing by giving them your daughter.’
After he left, Kummi heard her parents discussing it. Her stepmother was clearly in favour, while her father seemed reluctant.
‘Listen, after Kummi we have to marry Lacchu, which is its own headache. And then we have two more daughters after that,’ she said, referring to her two daughters, Kummi’s stepsisters, both of whom were much younger than Kummi and Lacchu. ‘We can’t be so picky. The most important thing is to get them settled in good houses. So what if this man already has children? I also married you, didn’t I? There’s nothing wrong in such an arrangement. And in fact, if he has sons already, there’s no pressure on Kummi to have sons. This is a good thing.’
Kummi sat in the slowly darkening room. She should have been in the kitchen, helping with dinner. Instead she sat on the floor, hugging her knees and trying not to cry. Her stepmother would have her way; she was sure of it. She would be married off to this old man. And who would take care of Lacchu then?
Her older brother, Ram, walked into the room.
‘What happened, Kummi? Why are you sitting in the dark?’
‘I ... I heard Appa talking to the broker ...’
The tears that she had tried so hard to hold back came now.
‘Oi, why are you crying? You don’t want to be married, is that it?’
‘It ... it’s not that ...’
‘Then what is it?’
‘It’s ... the person they have found ...’
‘What’s wrong with the boy?’
‘It’s not a boy! It’s a – an old man!’
‘How old?’
‘The broker said thirty-five.’
‘Thirty-five! Thirty-five? Is the broker serious, bringing such alliances to us? Does he have too much business or something? Does he want us to use another broker?’
‘Appa said he was too old, but our stepmother ...’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you worry, Kummi. Leave it with me.’
She heard the argument between her brother and her stepmother continuing late into the night. The next morning, her stepmother refused to speak to Kummi. Her father greeted her briefly and then called out for his morning coffee, his tiredness marked by the circles under his eyes.
There was no further mention of the old man. Her brother took on the responsibility of finding a suitable boy. It was six months later, when she was sixteen, that she was married to Somu.
And it was one year later, when Lacchu was fifteen, that she was married to the thirty-five – by that time thirty-six – year old man with three boys.
* * *
‘What’s on your mind, Kummi?’
Kummi turned to look at her husband. Somu Thatha was peering through his glasses, which were halfway down his nose. His brows were scrunched but his brown eyes were soft.
He patted the seat next to him.
‘You’ve been thinking about something for a few days now. Why don’t you tell me about it?’
Kummi got up from the dining table, where she had been watching the twins drawing pictures, went towards the chair and sat down.
She sighed.
‘It’s that Kumar, upstairs. Sanjana has gotten into S P Jain.’
‘S P Jain! That’s good news, very good news.’
‘Kumar is not allowing her to go. She asked me to speak to him, but he is a very stubborn man.’
‘Hmm. So you couldn’t convince him?’
‘No.’
‘What is his issue with her going?’
‘He wants her to learn how to manage a home and get married instead.’
Somu Thatha’s eyebrows went up.
‘I never thought he was that traditional. She did an engineering degree, right?’
‘Yes. And she has been working for a few years now,’ Kummi Paati said.
‘I probably shouldn’t say this ... but does she have to convince him? She can get a student loan, right?’
‘She needs her father to co-sign.’
‘Hmphh. I can co-sign, if it comes to that.’
‘I don’t think we can go that far. And if it comes to that, I don’t think Sanjana would accept that offer.’
‘Perhaps you are right. Yes, perhaps you are right.’
Nina came over to show Kummi Paati her latest artistic attempt.
‘This is very pretty, Nina. Why don’t you put it on the fridge with a magnet?’
Then turning back to her husband, she said, ‘I feel like I should try once more – but what more can I say to that man?’
Somu Thatha shrugged.
‘Who knows what’s wrong with him.’
A high voice piped up.
‘I do!’
Kummi Paati and Somu Thatha looked at Nina, who had joined them again, picture in hand.
‘What were you saying, kanna?’ Kummi Paati asked.
‘Kumar Uncle. I know what’s wrong with him.’
Kummi Paati and Somu Thatha looked at one another.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Somu Thatha asked.
Nina’s eyes widened.
‘It’s very sad, Thatha. He’s sick. In fact, he said his illness was killing him.’
‘When did he say this?’
‘Three days ago. I was on the balcony and I heard him talking to Karuna Aunty in the balcony upstairs. Well actually, he was shouting. “These yeemai are killing me!” That’s what he said. Thatha, what’s a yeemai?’
Kummi Paati and Somu Thatha exchanged another look.
‘I ... I really have no idea. Are you sure that’s what he said?’
Nina nodded vigorously.
‘He said it a few times. And Karuna Aunty was telling him to keep quiet because she didn’t want anyone to hear.’
‘Well. I see. Thank you for telling us, kanna,’ Kummi Paati said.
Nina went back to the table and Kummi Paati looked at Somu Thatha.
‘Yeemai?’ she asked.
Somu Thatha shrugged again.
‘Who knows?’
* * *
The next morning, Kummi Paati was in the kitchen with her best friend, Neela. Neela lived in the colony, in Block E. The two women