Zero Degree Read online

  Appa used to abuse Amma, too—bang her head until her teeth broke and her face swelled up—just because she took my side. After the holidays, when Anna went back to Bangalore, our aunt and uncle began looking for a marriage alliance for Geetha. Worried that the men would be more interested in me than in Geetha, they kept me locked up.

  They found two brothers. The elder brother refused to marry Geetha because the dowry was not enough. But the younger brother offered to marry me with no dowry at all. He even offered to pay for the wedding. But Appa told him he had no intention of getting me married.

  It’s true, Surya; I’ve never been married till now.

  Geetha got married two years later, when she was twenty. The man she married was an alcoholic, a gambler, and had many other bad habits besides these. Geetha has a son now…

  I started working when I was sixteen. I would wake up in the morning, finish the household chores, go to the typewriting institute, and then go to my job. Geetha and her husband lived with us. They fought constantly. One day, the fight got serious, and Geetha’s husband stormed out of the house, never to return.

  The landlord’s son, seeing my plight, wanted to marry me. He told his father about it, and his father in turn told Appa. He asked to see all our horoscopes, so he could try to discover the reason for our troubles. Appa gave him the horoscopes. The landlord came back saying, “It is your daughter Avanthika’s horoscope that is flawed; and I know a way to remedy the situation.”

  One night, the night of the new moon, when Anna was still in Bangalore, the landlord sent away his wife and son. Geetha woke me up at around eleven, and told me that Appa wanted me to come out. When I went out, they sent me into that man’s house. Inside, he asked me to undress. Shocked, I demanded to know where his wife and son were; he told me that they were out of town. When I protested, the man called Appa and Geetha and told them, “She is refusing; so I’m helpless.” Appa and Geetha started hitting and kicking me. I almost lost consciousness. At that point the landlord helped me up, sat me down, and said, “I have to take the mystical juice from you, and make it into a magic pigment. Then I will put the pigment into a talisman which will solve your Appa’s troubles. Your Appa has given his consent.”

  Appa and Geetha left us, and the landlord shut the door again. “Usually, on a nuptial night,” he said, “we would have milk and fruits to eat. I’ll give you some biscuits, instead.” He fed me something. I passed out. I have no recollection of what followed. I woke up around one o’clock in the morning. He showed me something white and pasty, spread onto a betel leaf; he said that he had taken that from inside me. Afterwards, he took the three of us up to the terrace and performed a puja. The next day he gave each of us a talisman. Because I refused to wear it, I was beaten by Appa.

  The landlord’s wife must have suspected something. Now she didn’t want her son to marry me anymore. She eventually created a big enough scene that we had to shift our house again.

  Appa always liked to talk to women. Amma caught him doing it once, and started wailing. I was just returning home from work when I came upon this scene at the doorstep, Appa talking to a woman while Amma wailed away. I went up to Appa and told him, “Amma doesn’t like you doing this. So why don’t you stop it?” He called me dirty names and hit me, in the open street, right in front of that woman. I blacked out. They admitted me in KMC. That’s when my nervous problem got worse; now I’ve become a person who jumps at even the smallest noises. The doctor prescribed Cardinol, but I showed very little improvement. Anna came to see me; he was very worried about my health. Every time he went out, Appa would start clobbering me again. One day I swallowed twenty Cardinol tablets, and lost consciousness almost immediately. Anna found me in that condition, brought the family doctor home, and got me admitted in KMC again. I think I must have been unconscious for around ten days. After that incident, Anna and Appa did not speak to each other much. Still, every time Anna was not there at home, my beatings would continue. I wanted to die. I hated Anna for saving my life. I tried to stay away from home as much as possible. Aside from office, I spent all my waking hours at temple. Even Sundays I would spend in temples: Maangaadu, Thiruverukaadu, Kondrathur, and others. There I would cry out my sorrows.

  It was on one such day that Aravindhan followed me home from Thiruverukaadu. The Sunday after that, while I was again at temple, Aravindhan came to our home to tell Appa that he wanted to marry me. When I got back home I got the usual scolding. I thought it just the normal routine, and kept quiet. It was only later that I understood something else was going on.

  Two weeks later, Aravindhan came to my office. We spoke to each other. After a few days, we went to Mahabalipuram together. Because of the love he showered on me, I was willing to do just about anything he asked. And so, before long, I became pregnant with my daughter, Nithya.

  When Aravindhan came to know that I was pregnant, he asked me to have an abortion. “Why?” I asked. “After all, we’re going to be married.”

  “No,” he said, “I cannot marry you.” I came to know that my family had sent thugs after him to get him to leave me alone.

  Once Appa found out I was pregnant, he told me that whether I married Aravindhan or not, I was no longer welcome in his house. I told Aravindhan: “I don’t care if you’re not going to marry me; I will not abort this child. You can just leave me alone. I’ll move into a hostel.”

  I was chased away from home when I was five months pregnant with Nithya. Appa made sure that he took every paisa I had saved until then.

  A friend of mine found me a place to live. “If you want, you can come and live with me,” I told Aravindhan. “Otherwise, you can go your own way.” He came to stay with me. On the next new moon night, I went to the jewelry shop, got myself a thali and a pair of toe-rings, came home, placed them in front of the Amman idol to bless them, and tied my thali myself.

  It was after that that I came to know Aravindhan’s true nature. Now it was his turn to abuse me. Even when I was in my third trimester, he kicked me around, and banged me against the walls. When I was on the way to the hospital for my delivery, he forced me to have sex with him.

  Surya, I must tell you about this one incident that happened. It was ten days before my delivery. He said his mother was unwell, and that he had to go to visit her. His mother stayed in Vellore. (He did this often, claiming to visit his mother. I never met any of his relatives. He never took me along. He made excuses to stay away from me fifteen days out of every month. I didn’t know his address in Vellore. He told me that he was doing his post-graduation at New College, and that he was a part-time Chemistry teacher in a school. In any case, it was all a mystery to me; I didn’t let myself think about it too much.)

  “I’ll be gone for ten days, so I’ll take you back to your mother’s,” he said.

  I knew that wasn’t possible, so I refused. The more I refused the more adamant he became.

  I finally accepted, and left with him to my mother’s house. Geetha refused to let me enter. “Whores aren’t allowed here,” she said. “You can go back to wherever you came from.”

  Aravindhan and Geetha began to fight. The curses that flew between them were too much for any human ear. I kept silent.

  “Bitch, you’ll stand in the streets without a thali once your husband is dead.” Geetha’s curse echoed through the streets.

  Aravindhan didn’t stay any longer. He brought me home and began kicking me around. I was torn to threads. It’s a wonder that the baby was not affected.

  Surya, how come these curses come true so soon? Just a year after Geetha cursed me that way, it became true. But I’ll tell you about that later. Now listen to this.

  Aravindhan disappeared again, leaving me alone. He returned after ten days with a bag of dirty laundry, claiming that he had completed his studies and had vacated the hostel. All through that day, nine months pregnant, I washed those clothes by hand. The women from the neig
h- boring homes scolded me for it.

  That night, Nithya was born. My friend and her mother helped me in the weeks that followed. Aravindhan kept on disappearing, and then suddenly reappearing to kick me and hit me and take away whatever little money I had earned. I had to secretly hide away cash to buy milk powder for Nithya. From the day I delivered Nithya, for almost twenty days, I had nothing to eat, Surya; nothing but water.

  I was then an RTP in the postal department. So I didn’t have any maternity leave. Come to think of it, I had no leave at all. I was like a daily laborer. I was paid two rupees seventy-five paise an hour for eight hours; that was my only income.

  Not only that—I would have to go work in whichever post office they assigned me. Once, in a single month, I was shunted between eighteen post offices: Arumbakkam, Amanjikarai, Anna Nagar, Chetpet, Flowers Road, Park Town, Choolai, Kolathur, Veppery, Perambur Barracks, Kilpauk, Ayinavaram, Jawahar Nagar, Vyasarpaadi, Washermanpet, New Avadi Road, Purasawalkam, Tank Road.

  The pay slips from all these places would be sent to the Park Town post office, and it was only then that my pay would be released. If the statement did not reach in time, I would have to call up the respective offices to chase my papers. Thus, I had to hop from post office to post office for my work, and then I had to do the same thing all over again to get my pay.

  I spent eight years doing this, Surya.

  Because I was a daily wager, I would always return home late. If Aravindhan had not come home yet, I would be safe. If he was there, he would start kicking me in the street, demanding, “How come you’re so late? Who were you roaming around with?” I would be left sitting there outside the house with the baby, with a splitting headache, until late in the night. It was only after Mumtaz Aunty from the next house came and knocked on the door, asking Aravindhan to take me in, that he would relent. I wouldn’t dare knock on the door myself, knowing that he would just kick me again. What kind of a life was this? Didn’t I deserve a life like other women? The black magician when I was fifteen, all the abuse at the hands of Appa and Geetha, Mother’s frightening madness… Had I escaped that hell just to get myself into this trap with Aravindhan?

  Nithya was a year and a half old when Aravindhan contracted tuberculosis. I took him to the doctor.

  (I forgot to tell you one thing that happened in the middle. When Nithya was six months old, I had gone to work in the sorting office on a deputation. That was where I met Diwakar, who became my good friend. I told him my life story. I was there in that office for six months.)

  Aravindhan’s condition worsened. I had him admitted in the hospital. The doctor said that, along with tuberculosis, he had brain fever. I sent a telegram to Aravindhan’s parents, asking them come down. They came, but they did not say a word to anyone.

  The doctor said that Aravindhan needed a very costly injection. “How costly?” I asked. “Six hundred rupees,” he said. I had only about twenty on me. Aravindhan’s parents stayed silent. I knew I could not expect them to chip in. Then they started shouting at me, claiming that all this trouble was because of the second marriage.

  Second marriage? I didn’t understand, but I had no time to worry. I had to get the injection ready.

  It must have been around five o’clock. I took an auto to a Seth’s shop in Choolaimedu. I had nothing to sell except my thali. I took it off and pawned it for a thousand rupees. I took an auto back and inquired in every medical shop, but the medicine Aravindhan needed was nowhere available. I came to Apollo hospital. They had the right medicine, but they said it was not for sale, as they needed it for their own use. Finally, in Nungambakkam, I found a shop that had it in stock. By the time I reached the hospital, it was one o’clock.

  In spite of giving him that costly medicine, there was no improvement. Aravindhan went into a coma. A friend of his said that we should get his photograph to use in a puja for him. I went back home, brought down the cardboard box from the loft, and started looking for a photo. That was when I got my shock. The box was full of love letters, photographs, and diaries. Going through the contents, I finally understood what Aravindhan’s parents had meant. Aravindhan already had a family in Vellore.

  I returned to the hospital. Aravindhan had regained consciousness. He held my hands and begged me, “Do anything, but save me! I know I have hurt you a lot. Forgive me. If I live through this, I will never leave you again.”

  “Of course you’ll be all right. And you can live with whichever woman you want to. I promise.”

  He seemed happy. But he did not open his eyes again. I sat at his feet, peacefully meditating.

  May the soul rest in peace. May this man, who was so restless in life, at least find peace after death.

  It was around two o’clock at night. His relatives took me and his body in a van. At Ega Theatre, on Poonamallee High Road, they dropped me off with Aravindhan’s body, and left.

  I still can’t understand, Surya. Has this world gone so rotten? Why does everyone treat me like this? I have never hurt anyone. I have never even spoken harshly to anyone. So why am I being subjected to this?

  While I was standing there alone on Poonamallee High Road, at the gates of Ega Theatre, my thoughts kept racing.

  I had left Nithya with Mumtaj Aunty. That aunty was my only support.

  I don’t know how long I stood there with Aravindhan’s body. It was only because an auto driver came that way that I’m even alive today.

  Those people who left me alone with Aravindhan’s corpse returned on the sixteenth day to take me back to finish the rituals. There was not a single woman in that crowd, only around twenty men. They said they were Aravindhan’s cousins. I had never met any of them before. They said the rituals would take place in Amanjikarai. Seeing that I was scared, a neighbor’s daughter offered to accompany me there.

  The place looked like a lodge. Several strange rituals were performed. Finally they chopped off my braid—my long braid which reached down to my knees. Since then, Surya, I have never let my hair grow. I always keep it cut short. Before, I used to take the art of hair care very seriously. Now I couldn’t be less bothered.

  Once Aravindhan died I was left all alone. Anna came back and found me a house in Amanjikarai. There, too, my troubles continued. Aravindhan’s family began demanding to take the child. I shifted to a house near my parents’ place in Arumbakkam.

  It was during this time that a problem arose at work. I had faced a similar one when I first started working. That was in a chemical factory; the owner was a man named Ramakrishna Iyer. I had a clerical job with a salary of 175 rupees a month. Ramakrishna Iyer tried to get funny with me, so I gave up that job after just three months, and joined an electrical shop as a typist. Later, I gave that up as well, to join as an instructor at the same typewriting institute where I had studied. I stayed there several years before I got this post as an RTP clerk in the Post Office, based on my marks in SSLC.

  But the problem I had to face now was worse than those that I had faced in those private firms.

  An officer by the name of Azhagesan had joined us. He was a womanizer. He found it convenient to keep me stationed in his office, rather than shunt me around from one place to another. He was the head of that office. “Let me come straight to the point. Let’s have sex just once. And I’ll give you anything you want,” he said. Every time he said this, I would lower my head and leave the room.

  But he wouldn’t leave me alone. He constantly asked for files from my desk. My savior then was Inspector Srinivasan, at the next desk. Every time Azhagesan would call me to his room, Srinivasan would find some excuse to follow me there.

  Such a high-ranking officer would actually wait at the bus stop, take the same bus I took, and follow me home. One day when Srinivasan was on leave, Azhagesan called me to his room, threw a gold chain on the table, and said, “This is for you. All you have to do is you say ‘Yes,’ just once.” I ran out, sweating profusely. Th
e next day, my colleague Savithri was showing off the same chain, saying she bought it with her savings.

  One day, Azhagesan came to my father’s house. Everyone at home was very thrilled that a higher official was visiting me. I kept saying, “He’s a womanizer, don’t let him inside.” But they got angry with me. “Poor old man. What stories you tell about him! He’s just being kind.”

  Do you know what that “kind” man did one Sunday? The postal service exams were going on. He asked me and Samikannu, the peon, to come along with him. When the exam finished, only Samikannu, Azhagesan, and myself were left in the office. I was preparing the list of those who had taken the exam. It started raining. It was only five in the evening, but the sky had become so dark it looked more like eight. I was hurrying through my work because I wanted to get home fast.

  There was a bell from Azhagesan’s room. Samikannu went in. When he returned he had a thermos in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

  I was getting scared. What if Samikannu left to buy coffee? But Samikannu was a good man; he understood my thoughts. Besides Inspector Srinivasan, Samikannu was my second savior. Silently, he signaled to me: Don’t be scared, I’ll be back in a moment. As soon as he left, Azhagesan came out of his room and approached me. I got up, thinking, “It doesn’t matter if it’s pouring; I can run away.” But by then Azhagesan was there at the main door, barring my way. I tried to figure out how to escape. Our office was on the first floor. I would have to get past Azhagesan to reach the stairs.

  I don’t know where I got the strength from, Surya. I shoved him aside and ran down the steps.

  Samikannu came back and looked at both of us.

  “Forget the coffee, get her an auto. It’s getting dark,” ordered Azhagesan. As I was getting into the auto, he said, “Madam is very nervous. Go along with her, Samikannu.”