Hiranakshi (part 3)

Nothing happened. Her husband went away each morning as usual and returned only by nightfall. All her wishing was in vain. The earth will not stop moving if you will it to.

It so happened that one afternoon, Hiran sat lost in thought, almost dozing off in the oppressive summer heat, when she heard the voice of a Bangle seller. It was a lady of about her own age, but taller and much darker. 'Aye Amma. Why don't you rid me of a few of these pretty bangles? They would look much better on your fair wrists than in my haggered basket.' Hiran smiled. 'How much are they for?' 'You ask the price, my dear, you do not ask how long I have walked barefoot in this rotten heat. You do not ask how sore my throat is from yelling for buyers. You do not see how my back bends under the weight of this basket. You only ask the price.' 'How she talks!', Hiran laughed to herself and said aloud 'Are you thirsty?' 'More than you will ever know. Fetch me a little water my dear and may your home always prosper.'

The bangle seller showed Hiran bangles of every imaginable colour. They were the bottle green, next to the turmeric yellow, the deep brown and the sky blue. Hiran wondered how many colours there were in this world. 'Wear then dear. They will look much better on your hand. Look! How they contrast against your fair smooth skin! Do you eat gold dust with your rice, to be glowing so? Try this one, the deep green. It looks like a snake coiled around your arm., the very same snake that is wound around Siva's neck. Or how about a red? You are too young to be married but all married women love this colour. Is your husband at home?' Hiran took offence to the last question. 'What is it to you?' she asked acidly. 'What kind of a man would leave so pretty a bride at home and go away to work? Would not his heart complain?' This made Hiran smile. 'Flattering me won't sell you any more bangles than otherwise.' she said hautily. 'My bangles sell themselves my dear. Just see how they glitter! They sing, they do. Listen. Chann chann chann. They sing don't they?' Hiran laughed. 'And what do they sing?' she ventured. 'Ah! Different songs for different people. For you it's probably a song of meeting and love, a song of the end of a long wait.' Hiran blushed. 'How these low caste women talk!' she thought ' So bold!'

'Alright. Just these red ones please. Nothing else.' Hiran gave her the money. 'Ah. I would have suggested the deep green, but you have made your pick and it is not mine to argue.' The seller gave her the bangles she had chosen and turned to go. She walked four paces and turned back to say, 'Be careful not to break them tonight. You know what I mean.' Hiran turned her face away to hide her smile.

The Moon's story (part 3-Final)

His voice was like a lot of silk threads bound into a knot. She sat up and listened. 'Chaandi! Listen to me. I know you cannot see me or understand me, but do not be afraid. I come in peace.' She looked but could not see. She then shut her eyes so she could hear with all her being. 'I am the voice of the night. You did not think the night was alive. But I am. I am the night and I see you. I have watched you each evening as you sat by the river Jeevan. Even as the menfolk gathered to watch you, I gathered in the sky. Since I first saw you, I have wanted you for myself, but I waited. For you were too busy to hear me. Now that you have the time, I cme to you. Will you be mine Chaandi?'

A chill ran down her spine and her skin quivered like a horse's sometimes does. She waited and then spoke, 'But I do not know you.'

;But who do you know Chaandi? Did you know any of those men? Or even your sister? Or your mother who pains you so much? You know no one but I know you. Come away with me.'

Chaandi held back a sob that formed a hard lump in her throat. 'I have been living among strangers. Take me away from here. Anywhere but here...'

The Night replied, 'You will be much happier with me.' And so she left with the Night, flying out of her window on a gentle breeze that lifted her delicate frame up towards the skies. The Night took her as far from her home as he could, for he did not want her mother to reach her. The Night was afraid of her mother.

He said to Chaandi, 'You shall be called Chanda, for your own name will remind you of your mother and consequently of all the pain she put you through.' She smiled at him, the first smile in a long time. To her it seemed like she had never smiled before.

She became a round sphere in his wide arms, her silver against his black. The people looked up and saw. They marvelled at the wonderous sight. It was truely breath- taking. The Night was proud of her, his Moon, but he did not want the others to covette her. So he said to her, 'Take a little of my coloour onto your face, so when they look at you they will know that you are mine.' The Moon willingly oblighed. With time the love between them grew. The Night kept his embrace around her and she in turn kept losing herself in him. That is why you only see a part of the Moon on most nights. The rest of her is the Night, for she became one with him. Yet on some nights, you will find her full and shining brighter than usual. These are the nights when she remembers her mother. That is when her old self returns and she wants to seek again the attention and praise of others. They are glorious, aren't they, those full moon nights. But like all else in this world, they pass and the Moon happily loses herself to her Night again."

With this Amuma ended her story. Now I am an educated one, unlike Amuma and I know of the Solar System. I know the moon is a satelite and the night a natural phenomenon. Amuma knows nothig! Yet, last night when I was gazing into the night from my bedroom window, I swear I almost heard him speak.
***

The Story of the Moon (part 2)

Both daughters grew in years. Chaandi grew prettier by the day. Ansoo stayed plain. The mother was very afraid that Ansoo would feel inferior to her sister and so she tried to nurture her with utmost kindness and love. She would say to her, 'You are my oldest, the apple of my eye, let no one make you feel bad about yourself. Do not believ anyone tells you that you are not beautiful.' The mother tried to teach Ansoo to sing, to dance and to sew; but Ansoo was slow to learn. She grew more attached to her mother as she grew and her mother to her.

Chaandi, meanwhile, grew to yearn her mother's attention. She would wonder why her mother spent much time with Ansoo but not with her. She would throw tantrums, cry and even fake illness hoping that these might force her mother to love her more, but her mother only considered these the result of Chaandi's arrogance. She considered Chaandi a troublesome child with way too much pride in her looks. She grew even more stoid and placid towards Chaandi.

Then the two girls grew to be young women. Chaandi began to receive admiring glances from menfolk, but she did not care for them. Yet, she wanted her mother to noticehow the men admired her beauty. Chaandi dressed well and took care of herself, hoping that with increasing attention from the men, her mother would be compelled to admit that Chaandi was, afterall, a beauty. She would sit by the river Jeevan in all her bejewelled glory, looking like a swan. The men would praise her, write poems about her face and sing songs about her skin. Chaandi would listen and snigger, all the while hoping that her mother would hear them as well.

The mother did hear them, and the more she heard, the angrier she grew. 'What audacity! What arrogance!' she thought, 'To dress up that way, intending solely to lure men, and then turn up her nose at the victims of her own demeanor. She must be punished, or she will never be cured of this constant need for attention.' So mother locked up Chaandi in her room, forbiding her from meeting anyone till she learnt to be more humble.

Chaandi stayed locked up for days on end. At first she was puzzled. Why was her mother unhappy? Did she not see inher the goodness others did? Then she was angry, 'Mother only loves Ansoo', she thought, 'She never wanted me at all.' Then she was frustrated, 'How much longer will she keep me locked? Will she be upset with me forver?' And finally she became depressed, 'I have no one in this world who cares for me,' she thought, 'my mother does not think of me as her own, or she would love me.'

And Chaandi cried.

She cursed herself. She began to hate her life. She began to hate herself. She wanted not to exist. She wanted to lie still in the night and give up her breath. She wanted to cease. One such long night, she lay on her bed. She was willing herself dead when she heard the voice of a man.
(to be continued)