Love In The Time Of Dusk

Thathaji has never said "I love you" even once Sitamma in their sixty years of married life.

Who on earth told you this? You may ask. Well, Sitamma herself.

"So how do you know how he feels about you?" I ask.

"What is there to know?" She asks not not quite understanding the import of what I asked. Then she pondered for a while born after my father."

Oh! Big deal indeed. I thought.

"Then what"? I press

"What then what?

I don't know all that?" Said Sitamma and proceeded to make Thathaji's favourite rava idli and kosumalli chutney.

He has a way of calling her.

"Cheeda, Cheeda", Thathaji would holler across the hall and he would expect the 77 year old to materialize instantly by his side. It has always been that way. Whenever Thathaji called out"Cheeda", Sitamma had always popped up by his side. In the first few months after their wedding Sitamma has a problem to appear instantly as her madisar(nine yard sari) kept coming in the way. Later she just managed to roll along with it. She come into Thathaji's life as a young bride of fourteen. When she wept that her studies had been stopped, Thathaji a course in music in which she excelled and went ahead to receive the gold medal.

Three years ago,

Sitamma asked me, "Will you take me to Sholingur to Lord Nrsimha's temple?" "Sitamma you might have to climb more than thousand steps. I don't know if you can manage it" I said. "I vowed to come and see him if Thathaji successfully completed his B.Ed. Now even my granddaughter has completed her B.A and I still haven't fulfilled my vow. Will you take me? she asked.

I took her to Sholingur, skeptical about her climbing the thousand and odd steps. She climbed. When her feet gave away, she climbed on all fours, refusing to be carried in a doli up there.

Whether it is serving boiled water at the right temperature or offering a stool to put his feet up while watching TV, whether it is marinating the gooseberries with right amount of spices or waiting to serve him food no matter how late, there is nobody who understands Thathaji's needs better. "If Raja had been there he would have been my right arm." Thathaji likes to say. Raja is their first son who passed away when he was merely fourteen due to a hole in his heart. Thatha and Sitamma still preserve his poetry books, diary and other memories. When Raja passed away, Sitamma was stunned. And remained stunned for nearly two years. Thathaji stood in as a mother for the remaining nine children untill Sitamma recovered. Thathaji was a schoolteacher drawing a salary of Rs.25. Everything had to happen within that. It did."Cheeda is an illal(perfect wife) in the truest sense of the word. She never says illai(no or not there). She has managed to run the house no matter what."

And manage they did. To build a house, marry off three daughters, educate their sons and to live independently till date in their house of forty years. I don't think they even had the time to pause to think how much they love each other or how the relationship has to be improved or "worked upon" or some such thing. They belong to a different narrative, an unlikely world. Their marriage hasn't gone through the questions of "Is it worth it at all? Do you love me? If yes, how much? This does it-let us just part...' and oh, scores of other questions and declarations which the married state has throws up, at least once. Though I am sure they have gone through circumstances, which warrant such questions.

Thathaji,s and Sitamma,s commitment is amazing. What is more amazing is that they are not even conscious of it. Of course, they have fought and still fight. But they never question their love for each other or test it. Nor do they think that the marriage is being jeopardized each time they argue. They have never shared greetings cards or gifts or made an occasion of their anniversaries. They are oblivious to the scores of gifts, knick-knacks available, which lubricate every relationship today. They have remained innocent to that kind of a love, which stands as a porcelain cup, a greeting card, a billetidoux and other bric-a-brac around the house. Thathaji at 85 and Sitamma at 77 still love each other. Ardently. But don,t seem to notice it. Their love is as beautiful as the flower, which blooms after the sun has gone down. And as fragrant. I admire the innocence of their love. And envy it.