Read Online Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya - Free Book Online
Authors: Kamala Markandaya
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now there is no more fear, no more necessity for lies and concealment."
"There should never have been," I said. "Are we not your parents? Did you think we would blame you for what is not your fault?"
"There are others," she replied. "Neighbours, women ... and I a failure, a woman who cannot even bear a child."
All this I had gone through -- the torment, the anxiety. Now the whole dreadful story was repeating itself, and it was my daughter this time.
"Hush," I said. "We are all in God's hands, and He is merciful."
My thoughts went to Kenny. He can help, I thought; surely he can do something. My crushed spirit revived a little.
About this time Arjun was in his early teens. He was tall for his age and older than his years. I had taught him the little I knew of reading and writing; now he could have taught me and most other people in the town. I do not know how he did it, for we could not afford to send him to school or to buy him books. Yet he always had a book or two by him, about which he grew vague if I asked questions, and spent many hours writing on scraps of paper he collected, or even, when he had none, on the bare earth. Secretly I was glad, for I saw my father in him, although sometimes my husband worried that he showed no inclination for the land; but when one day he told me he was going to work in the tannery I was acutely dismayed. It seemed it was going to be neither the one thing nor the other, neither land nor letters, which was to claim him.
"You are young," I attempted to dissuade him. "Besides, you are not of the caste of tanners. What will our relations say?"
"I do not know," he said. "I do not care. The important thing is to eat."
How heartless are the young! One would have thought from his words we had purposely starved him, when in fact of what there was he always got the biggest share after my husband.
"So," I said, "we do not do enough for you. These are fine words from an eldest son. They do not make good hearing."
"You do everything you can," he said. "It is not enough. I am tired of hunger and I am tired of seeing my brothers hungry. There is never enough, especially since Ira came to live with us."
"You would grudge your own sister a mouthful," I cried, "who eats half what I give her so that you boys can have the more!"
"The more reason for me to earn," rejoined Arjun. "I do not grudge food to her or to you. I am only concerned that there is so little."
He was right, of course. The harvests had been very poor, shop prices were higher than ever.
"Well," I said. "Go if you must. You speak like a man although you are a child still. But I do not know whether you can obtain work at the tannery. People say they have all the labour they want."
"Kunthi's son will help me," he replied. "He has promised."
I did not want to be indebted to Kunthi, or to her son. She was so different from us, sly and secretive, with a faintly contemptuous air about her which in her son was turned almost to insolence. He had inherited her looks too, and the knowledge of it lay in his bold eyes. A handsome, swaggering youth, not for my son.
"There is no need to go through him," I said with determination. "I will ask Kenny to help you. White men have power."
"Indeed they have," he said bitterly. "Over men, and events, and especially over women."
"What do you mean?" I said to him. "Speak with a plain tongue or not at all."
He looked at me obliquely with darkening eyes, but would say no more.
A few days later he began working at the tannery, and before long Thambi, my second son, had joined him. The two of them had been very close to each other from their earliest years, and it was not strange that Thambi should follow his brother. Nathan and I both tried to dissuade him, but without avail. My husband especially had been looking forward to the day when they would join him in working on the land; but Thambi only shook his head.
"If it were your land, or mine," he said, "I would work with you gladly. But what profit
"There should never have been," I said. "Are we not your parents? Did you think we would blame you for what is not your fault?"
"There are others," she replied. "Neighbours, women ... and I a failure, a woman who cannot even bear a child."
All this I had gone through -- the torment, the anxiety. Now the whole dreadful story was repeating itself, and it was my daughter this time.
"Hush," I said. "We are all in God's hands, and He is merciful."
My thoughts went to Kenny. He can help, I thought; surely he can do something. My crushed spirit revived a little.
About this time Arjun was in his early teens. He was tall for his age and older than his years. I had taught him the little I knew of reading and writing; now he could have taught me and most other people in the town. I do not know how he did it, for we could not afford to send him to school or to buy him books. Yet he always had a book or two by him, about which he grew vague if I asked questions, and spent many hours writing on scraps of paper he collected, or even, when he had none, on the bare earth. Secretly I was glad, for I saw my father in him, although sometimes my husband worried that he showed no inclination for the land; but when one day he told me he was going to work in the tannery I was acutely dismayed. It seemed it was going to be neither the one thing nor the other, neither land nor letters, which was to claim him.
"You are young," I attempted to dissuade him. "Besides, you are not of the caste of tanners. What will our relations say?"
"I do not know," he said. "I do not care. The important thing is to eat."
How heartless are the young! One would have thought from his words we had purposely starved him, when in fact of what there was he always got the biggest share after my husband.
"So," I said, "we do not do enough for you. These are fine words from an eldest son. They do not make good hearing."
"You do everything you can," he said. "It is not enough. I am tired of hunger and I am tired of seeing my brothers hungry. There is never enough, especially since Ira came to live with us."
"You would grudge your own sister a mouthful," I cried, "who eats half what I give her so that you boys can have the more!"
"The more reason for me to earn," rejoined Arjun. "I do not grudge food to her or to you. I am only concerned that there is so little."
He was right, of course. The harvests had been very poor, shop prices were higher than ever.
"Well," I said. "Go if you must. You speak like a man although you are a child still. But I do not know whether you can obtain work at the tannery. People say they have all the labour they want."
"Kunthi's son will help me," he replied. "He has promised."
I did not want to be indebted to Kunthi, or to her son. She was so different from us, sly and secretive, with a faintly contemptuous air about her which in her son was turned almost to insolence. He had inherited her looks too, and the knowledge of it lay in his bold eyes. A handsome, swaggering youth, not for my son.
"There is no need to go through him," I said with determination. "I will ask Kenny to help you. White men have power."
"Indeed they have," he said bitterly. "Over men, and events, and especially over women."
"What do you mean?" I said to him. "Speak with a plain tongue or not at all."
He looked at me obliquely with darkening eyes, but would say no more.
A few days later he began working at the tannery, and before long Thambi, my second son, had joined him. The two of them had been very close to each other from their earliest years, and it was not strange that Thambi should follow his brother. Nathan and I both tried to dissuade him, but without avail. My husband especially had been looking forward to the day when they would join him in working on the land; but Thambi only shook his head.
"If it were your land, or mine," he said, "I would work with you gladly. But what profit
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