Pages 339, 340 & 341

Chapter 45: Ratno, Sukhia and Sujata

Sameer had started college and from Qaadian, father and son rode their bikes to college except on Thursdays when they drove the Fiat as on that day, after ensuring all was done at the college, Jagat drove to Zillapur.  Teg would be away at the college and Sujata's eyes would light up at the sight of the Fiat.  They would talk, make love, she would feed him lunch and soon the Fiat was on its way back to Chajjuwara, often reaching there before Sameer finished his classes and walked to the bungalow.  Some Thursdays when Sujata travelled back with him to Qaadian, on Saturday Mornings before college, Jagat dropped her at the bungalow where she stayed with Kundan and Kamini until the college closed when he took her to Zillapur, often staying there for night. 

Finding that the daily travel interfered with his studies Sameer began living at the bungalow, returning to Qaadian with his father for weekends and back to the college with him on Mondays.  The family began to see more of Sujata and if some ever wondered about her and Jagat, none ever asked.  Ruhi and Seeto were happy to see another woman that unconditionally loved Jagat's sons.

His British jailers having left the country, Jagat had settled into a routine, something he had uyearned after the unending demands of the independence struggle.

One afternoon, in the midst of that peaceful routine, Shiv Ram found Sukhia having difficulty in breathing and he sprinted home.  Jagat had just returned from college, he and Shiv Ram drove Sukhia to the Chajjuwara hospital where he was given oxygen.

    "I'm alright now. I don't want you to spend money on me.  I want to die at home."

    "Chacha, we'll keep you at the bungalow tonight.  If you're still good in the morning, we'll go to Qaadian." said Jagat.

He wanted to tell the unwell Sukhia about having found Ratno but couldn't bring himself to do it.  In the morning when Sukhia sat under a khes in the garden, Jagat walked over with two cups of tea.

    "Jagat Puttar I'm better, just about one hundred percent.  Take me home to Qaadian."

    "Chacha, that's good news. I have some news for you too."

All night he had been wrestling with his guilt about Ratno and not telling Sukhia.  He could no longer keep the secret from Sukhia and Said, "Our Ratno, I've found out where she is. Would you like me to tell her you want to see her?"  Sukhia's eyes previously focused on Jagat's suddenly turned skyward, down to Jagat and then to the ground below his own feet as both of them stood silent, afraid to share their truths about what they had done to and with Ratno.  Sukhia sat with his eyes now hidden under his hands and Jagat speechless, just looking at him.  Finally Sukhia uncovered his eyes and said,

    "You're like my son and I had lied to Qaadian about her marriage.  Do what a son should do and help us meet."

Sukhia had told him at least a part of his truth about Ratno but had left unsaid the part about the ritual ablutions he and Dheero had performed in Benares as if she was dead and registered her death with register keepers.  Jagat on the other hand hadn't even begun to be truthful with Sukhia about his daughter. 

Jagat walked to the post office half hoping to find it closed because a part of him didn't want to send Ratno a letter since it was bound to complicate his life, particularly with Sukhia and Sujata.  Bu he had sinned enough already he thought and pushed on until he reached the post office, a small one room office with a door locked from the inside, a window with iron grill open for business.  The grimy walls hadn't seen new paint or even a wash in years and all the mistakes of his life weighing on his mind he felt as unclean as the grime of the walls.  The man at the window, his short hair drenched in mustard oil, dirt encrusting the seams of his khaki uniform stared at Jagat.

    "Here are three paisas.  One post card please," said Jagat pushing the money under the grill.  Moving to the edge of the window, with the dip pen and ink of the post office, he wrote the post card and hesitated before pushing it through the slot in the cylindrical red post box cemented in the ground against the office wall.  The letter was now irretrievable; it had pretty much sealed his fate, he feared.