Akhil Sharma - An Obedient Father

"I don't want to do that at all."

"Don't let him. Don't let him," Anita said, and paused. She stared into Asha's eyes and asked, "You'll let him, won't you? Yes." Anita smiled softly and nodded. "Yes. Yes. It's fine to say 'Yes.' "

Asha nodded back.

"Stupid girl," Anita hissed.

"She'll say yes to anything you ask," I said.

"Don't let him. If you do, I'll kill you and I'll kill myself. Your grandfather is bad. Will you let him?" Asha shook her head no. "You will, won't you?" Asha continued shaking her head no. "You will?"

"No," Asha whispered.

"It will kill you if he does. I'll kill myself if he does. If you let him. Scream if he tries." Anita looked at me. There was nothing on her face.

K nita decided the first person she was going to speak to was

/X^Shakuntala, Radha's sister.

"Why make it worse? Asha wouldn't let me now."

Anita did not respond as she pulled a sandal strap around an ankle. She was sitting on her bed. Asha, still in her uniform, was standing beside her. "All this will do is destroy your only weapon."

"And if I don't do it?"

"I won't do anything." Anita watched me for a second and stood. I continued, "Nobody will help. People cry with you one day, two days. Then they say, 'She's always crying. Why does she bring her unlucky face here?' "

Anita left the flat. I had to lock the door, and by the time I caught up with them, they were in the alley. Asha was sobbing. I followed next to them, pleading. I was so confused by what was happening that I could not tell whether I was merely saying things or whether I believed them. "I'll make a deed turning over everything to you in three years. Even if I'm not dead, you'll have everything." People were noticing us, the rapidly walking woman holding the crying girl by the hand and the old, bald man beside them whispering feverishly, "I'll sell you the flat for five rupees if you come back home."

At the bus stop, like a child who does not want to go to school, I felt relief every time a bus approached and it was not for us. By then I had stopped talking. There was nothing to say. It was a hot bright morning. The road was as crowded as always and seven or eight peo-

pie stood with us. We waited and waited. Sweat leaked down my back. "I've only been kind to Asha."

Anita snorted.

The bus came and we got on.

Anita did not look at me as the bus moved. Asha stood by herself. There were a few people between us. We disembarked in Morris Nagar near the Big Round-About. We walked on the sidewalk along the red-brick wall that encloses University Quarters. The trees that stretch over the wall were leafless. Occasionally a bus or an autorick-shaw went by, but most of the sounds were birds chirping. I felt as though we were walking along a beach.

We entered University Quarters through a small gate. There were two rows of single- and double-story red-brick houses separated by fifteen or twenty meters of grass. The brick paths in front of the houses had long since disintegrated into yellow dirt. Shakuntala's husband was an administrator in the registrar's office of Delhi University. At one point I stopped walking and watched them proceed without me. Then, because I did not know what would be said, I followed.

Shakuntala opened the door. She was less than five feet tall, with an enormous wrinkled face. I became so afraid that I felt blood tingling through my hands and face. Shakuntala looked surprised.

"I must tell you something," Anita said, and Shakuntala led us across the courtyard into a room. The room was dark and had a television against one wall and cots along two others. Shakuntala sat on a cot and Anita, Asha, and I on another. Shakuntala had her head covered with a fold of her sari, because even though Radha was dead, I was still her family's son-in-law. I wondered if this was the last time I would have any social status.

"Water?" Shakuntala asked.

"No," Anita answered for us all.

I thought, I have to interrupt this. "You won't be able to keep the house after Sharmaji retires?" I asked.

"Maybe for one year. There are rules we must follow."

"He retires next year?"

"Yes. Why?"

Anita glared at me and then turned back to Shakuntala. "When I was Asha's age, Pitaji raped me. He did this many times." Anita said it so steadily, I was amazed. Shakuntala's mouth opened. She looked at me, and all I could think of was to protest that Anita had been older than Asha. I said nothing, and she turned back to Anita. It was done. I wondered where I would sleep in the new world that had just been formed.

"There used to be blood everywhere after he finished with me."

"Put Asha in another room," Shakuntala said.

"I've told her everything." Shakuntala looked uncertain. "It was like having a knife put in. When I first menstruated, I thought it was an old wound that had broken." Asha lay down on the cot and closed her eyes. "Ma found out, but what could she do? She had two other children. She sent Kusum to be raised by Naniji."

"Yes," Shakuntala said.

I wondered whether the "yes" meant she agreed with Radha's reasonableness or whether it was intended to comfort Anita by saying that the fact of Kusum being sent away was confirmable and Anita was believed.

"But Ma had to stay with him." Anita turned toward me and slapped me. I wanted to become invisible and didn't even touch my cheek. When I didn't respond, Anita hit me again.

"Of course." Shakuntala only cast brief glances at me.

"Last year, in May, I caught him touching Asha. I told him not to do it. Yesterday I learned he's been going to see Asha at school."

"I didn't know people like you existed in real life," Shakuntala said to me. She used the familiar you.

"I haven't done anything to Asha." The more times I repeated this, the more times I felt that this was just an excuse, that if not now then sometime later I would have touched Asha.

"Come here, daughter." Anita went and sat by Shakuntala, who embraced her. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Anita whimpered

and started crying against Shakuntala's neck. "What unhappinesses God has given you." Anita cried and repeated her story with more details. Shakuntala occasionally rocked Anita back and forth.

In the early afternoon the doorbell rang. "It's him. Coming home for lunch," Shakuntala said, too traditional to use her husband's name. She got up.

"Mausiji, will you tell him for me?" Anita held Shakuntala's hand and looked into her aunt's eyes as she asked this. "I don't want to cry anymore."

Shakuntala gazed at Anita sadly for a moment. "What's the use of telling him, daughter? It will only make it harder to convince him to let you live with us."

When I saw the surprise on Anita's face, I knew she had not believed my warnings. I felt a little relief Perhaps this confirmation of what I had said would cause Anita to stop. Shakuntala went and let in her husband, Mr. Sharma.

During lunch I talked the most, trying to keep the conversation off why the three of us had suddenly appeared in Morris Nagar. To talk and pretend nothing had happened filled me with energy. The excuse we used was that Asha had been sleeping a lot and we wanted Mr Sharma to examine her. Mr. Sharma had bought a doctor's certificate a few months earlier as a source of income after retirement and had begun building a practice by writing the first prescription free.

Asha was woken to eat, and after she finished, Mr. Sharma asked a series of questions, most of which Asha answered no to. He wrote Asha a prescription and left for work.

Anita told Shakuntala she wouldn't stay in Morris Nagar. "I only wanted to let you know what he did." Shakuntala answered she was glad to learn and made no further offer of help.

I was amazed to leave the house and see the world still there and hear the birds.