The Ship Bird

By Sivasankari

Sivasankari (born October 14, 1942) is a renowned Tamil writer and activist. She has carved a niche for herself in the Tamil literary world during the last four decades with her works that reflect an awareness on social issues, a special sensitivity to social problems, and a commitment to set people thinking.

She has many novels, novellas, short stories, travelogues, articles and biographies to her credit. Her works have been translated into several Indian languages, English, Japanese and Ukrainian. Eight of her novels have been made into films, having directed by renowned directors like K. Balachander, SP Muthuraman and Mahendran. Her novel 'Kutti' on girl child labour, filmed by the director Janaki Viswanathan, won the President's Award. Sivasankari's novels have also been made as teleserials, and have won the national as well as regional 'Best Mega Serial' awards.

As a multi-faceted personality, she has won many prestigious awards including Kasturi Srinivasan Award, Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiyar Award, Bharatiya Bhasha Parishad Award, 'Woman of the year 1999-2000' by the International Women's Association, and so on.

'Knit India Through Literature' is her mega-project involving intense sourcing, research and translations of literature from 18 Indian languages, with a mission to introduce Indians to other Indians through culture and literature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pustaka Digital Media
• Release date: Mar 8, 2017
• ISBN: 6580501801898

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The Ship Bird

Author:

Sivasankari

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Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

THE SHIP BIRD

SIVASANKARI

Translated from Tamil by

RISHNA

1

Suja…

……………

Hey… Suj…ja…

Hunched over her desk she murmured an mm… as she drew a square, representing Kumaraswami’s drawing room on a sheet of paper, and visualised how she would decorate it… what she would place where, and so on.

Didn’t you hear me?

I said ‘mm’… didn’t you hear me?

No. Come on… look at me.

Suja lifted her eyes to him. Ok… I’ve looked at you… you are very handsome… happy? Now let me do some work!

It is 6’o clock… time for the party. Do you have any plans to go home, have a bath and change, or you just… plan to go straight from here?

Suja frowned. Where?

Sankar laughed. You know, people get all kinds of awards. You deserve a doctorate for forgetfulness! There is a party at our Boss Mr. Varma’s house… we’ve been invited, too, to be introduced to our new clients, Mr. Devadas and Mr. Vasudevan. Is this enough, or do you want me to start with who you are… who I am…!

Suja wearily threw down her pencil. Oh, what a bore! When I’m working on something really interesting, I just don’t like to be disturbed by such things, Sankar…

What? Is going to a party a disturbance? Even a child will laugh at this!

When I have just had a great design idea, and am in the process of noting it down… preparing to make a drawing… yes, even going to a party is a disturbance!

Varma is our boss, Suja…

So what! Shouldn’t he be pleased that I am so involved in my work? Forget the party, Sankar… to think that I have to endure three or four hours with that Mrs. Varma… God help me!

Suja pulled a piteous face, which got Sankar laughing again.

What has she done to you, Suja, that you should be so affected?

What has she done? She talks endlessly, that woman… sheer torture! Really Sankar, doesn’t she have anything else to talk about, other than the latest sari she bought, the jewellery she had made, the party she gave, the dresses the other women are wearing, the horrible cooking of the neighbour, their servant problems…!

What can she do? She is not an architect like you… she’s just an ordinary housewife, and can only talk about the things she knows…

Suja slapped the desk with some force. Stop that nonsense, Sankar! This is the kind of lame excuse that has systematically reduced majority of the women to mental ‘zeroes’, in spite of their possessing positive abilities! Do you know Mrs. Varma’s academic qualifications? M.Sc.! And, what’s more, she has herself admitted that she was a college lecturer for a year. Should even such a woman have no conversation beyond saris, jewellery and cooking? Aren’t there other subjects? Ok… may be she doesn’t like to talk about politics. What about arts? Forget even arts… how may problems there are in society – can she not even think about them? Worry about what she could do about them?

So… if a person talks about the problems in society or about arts, you will accept that person to be intelligent – is that it?

Now, don’t make me angry, Sankar! You, too? Don’t you at least know me? Am I so narrow minded? You know my view very well that in thought, word and deed women must enjoy the same rights as men…

Ok… ok… I agree. Mrs. Varma, who is an M.Sc., insists on chattering about the most mundane issues, and is therefore – what did you say? Ah, yes… a mental zero! But what is the point in blaming Varma for it? You can’t say that it is because of men keeping them down that women become so?

Come on Sankar, don’t be childish and pretend you don’t understand! You know Varma better than I do. If he gives me complete freedom and respect in the office, there is a reason. It shows his cleverness in getting the work out of me by encouraging my performance. But it’s not like that at home. He is one among the many men who cannot accept the fact that their wives are better qualified, better informed, and more knowledgeable than themselves! You know that. He tied the ‘Thaali’ around her neck, did he not? That is why he is able to control and subdue her!

So, what you are saying is that the reason for so many women remaining drops in the well, like Mrs. Varma, is their husbands?

No, I will not put everyone in the same basket. There are some women who are qualified, but choose to remain subservient, because their husbands disapprove. For some others, saris, jewellery and the kitchen is indeed their real world. I don’t know which category Mrs. Varma belongs to, and I have no intention to research it either! All I can say is that when I get caught with these women, it becomes very uncomfortable for me. You know, saying the same things over and over again… no general knowledge… always looking at the world through rose-tinted spectacles… I cannot tolerate it even for a couple of minutes!

If you can’t tolerate it, why don’t you just get up and go away?

That’s what I do… to the extent that the other day Mrs. Kamesh observed sarcastically, ‘Suja’s attention is always on the men!’…

And you kept quiet?

Suja threw her head back and laughed. Catch me doing it! I shot back, ‘Yes, Mrs. Kamesh, what you say is absolutely right. I am able to converse with men on several intelligent topics, which I am unable to with you! That’s why my attention is drawn to the men!’…

Sankar laughed as he tried to visualise Mrs. Kamesh’s face after such a rebuff, and said, Che… poor thing!

Why do you pity her? Does she alone have the prerogative to be so rude? You know… one other time, just like…

Suja froze in mid speech. Let’s stop with this for today, Sankar… otherwise it will just go on and on like Hanuman’s tail! It’s late… let’s go…

Shovelling everything on her table into the drawer, and locking it, she left the office with him.

Suja was silent, as they descended the stairs, and during the drive, A penny for your thoughts… when Sankar butted in, Are they about Kumaraswami’s house, or Mrs. Varma’s prattle on saris and jewellery? without turning to him, Suja spoke in a quiet tone.

You know, Sankar… because I am unable to identify with these narrow-minded people, I am misunderstood. They think I am not feminine enough… and that I should really have been born a man! I don’t care what they feel. But, I tell you, I can easily challenge this so-called ‘feminine woman’ any time. You have seen my house… you have sampled my cooking. Moreover, I require not more than three to four hours a day to complete efficiently all the chores these women say they do. Eight hours for sleep… let us leave that aside. Eight plus four is twelve. In the remaining twelve hours, do you realise how much we can learn… discover… how we can improve ourselves… do useful work? Instead, not only do they fritter away their own time, they pass unfair comments on others! What can one do with such people? Mm…? God… I’m fed up!

All this – her emphatic and impassioned declarations… these spontaneous outbursts of righteous indignation – was not new to Sankar. He had heard it all before. He just smiled wordlessly.

He didn’t think there was anything wrong in what Suja was saying.

Her own tiny, one-bedroom flat was always spic and span… everything in its appointed place… attractive… decorated aesthetically.

She was an expert cook, too. Vegetarian… non-vegetarian… whatever you liked… it would be ready in half an hour. And when she finished with the cooking and emerged from the kitchen, would you see her clothes soiled? Sweat on her face? Mm-hmm… nothing!

She listened to music, she saw movies, she read voraciously, enjoyed visiting art exhibitions.

When asked whether she could sing or dance or paint, she would say with characteristic candour, I can appreciate all of those within my soul… isn’t that enough?

So, what was surprising in her feeling irritated with people who were content to sit at home, eat, sleep and gossip? Particularly when her eight hours of work at the office were supplemented by her burning desire to learn more… do more… experience more?

Sankar turned his head slightly to look at her. Aquiline nose, long neck, tightly pressed lips, hair tied up with a rubber band in a pony-tail, pepper sized ear-rings, sleeveless blouse, kota cotton sari. She was very tall, and her slender frame made her look taller.

But it was not her height or lithe body that primarily attracted people… it was her animated and intelligent conversation, her open laughter that ruffled her shoulder length hair and made it swirl around her neck… these were her major plus points in Sankar’s view.

Suja was not that fair – olive skinned one might say. Small eyes, and not very even teeth… in fact she had an extra tooth riding her pre-molar. However, when she flung her head back, and the unique laughter bubbled up from deep inside her, her eyes shone like lamps… the extra tooth peeping out of the corner of her lip – creating a strange kind of intoxication!

Then, of course, her intelligence – within two minutes of her starting to speak anywhere, it would call attention to itself… such was its brilliance.

Sankar stopped the car at the entrance of Suja’s apartment building.

Shall I pick you up at 7.15?

No, Sankar, it is close by… I’ll pick up an auto… why should you take the trouble?

At home, she had a bath, changed into a simple, but elegant dress, applied minimal make-up, and left after telling Rani, her live-in household help, I’ll be returning late…

She found an auto and reached Varma’s house by 7.30.

Soft music beckoned her in at the entrance. As she entered the hall, she looked around carefully.

On the right, Mrs. Varma, Mrs. Rao, Mrs. Shyam, and an unknown fat lady… a little further away, Rao, Shyam, Varma, Sankar, and with them a well ‘rounded’ man.

Suja… my brilliant junior… come, come!

Varma came up to greet her enthusiastically.

Suja, this is Mr. Devadas, the Trichur timber merchant. You know that he has bought land to start a new furniture showroom in Coimbatore? And has entrusted the design and construction work to us? Mr. Devadas, this is Suja – my junior…

Suja folded her palms in greeting.

What will you have? As usual orange juice? Varma turned to his wife and said, Shantha, Suja is here…

Hello, Suja, why so late? Couldn’t you come earlier? You haven’t met Mrs. Devadas yet… come, I’ll introduce you. You must look at the bracelet she is wearing!

To Sankar standing nearby Suja gave a look that said, ‘Please rescue me!’

And, as she was being towed by Shantha Varma, orange juice in hand, wondering all the time about how she could escape from this group and wander off to