Unfinished Stories of Women in Crisis

By Rajendra Gour

SKIRMISHES AT HOME and
BATTLES IN SOCIETY

The story is about an illiterate and naive village girl who wants to rise above herself in mans world. The episodes and characters are fictional. However, some of the incidents are inspired by stories narrated by real-life individuals. These are heart-wrenching and heart-warming as well as inspiring, questioning the very existence of humanity in human beings in a progressive society.

WARS BEYOND BORDERS

The story is set against the background of The Battle for Singapore between British and Japanese forces in late 1941 and early 1942, and thereafter the Japanese occupation of Singapore from 1942 to 1945.
The events reveal h ow a group of women escaped from the war zone to the safe land that was not under Japanese control. The incidents, characters, and terrain are fictional. The scenes are dramatized to show the sufferings of women and atrocities of war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Mar 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543745320

Rajendra Gour

Rajendra Gour worked with several organisations and has extensive experience in broadcasting, film and television productions, writing and teaching (media). Rajendra also independently produced short films from 1960s to 80s, and was honoured by the National Library Board of Singapore for the earliest known independent Singapore filmmaker (Pioneer). The films were screened at overseas film festivals and received accolades. These are now preserved by the Asian Film Archive, Singapore. His biography was recorded by the National Archive for preservation. He is currently writing novellas on social issues, and conducting Awareness Talks for masses, especially the Senior citizens, to keep their brain, mind, body (BMB) healthy to rekindle hope and happiness. His writings and talks are like film scripts that engage and uplift the readers and the audience with pictures and videos. Rajendra graduated in Cinema from the prestigious Film Institute, Poona (India) in 1963. He did his masters in Mass-communications from Leicester University in 1998. He is constantly and continuously upgrading his skills as a student for life, and sharing his experiences.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Rajendra Gour.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2018937080

ISBN:                   Hardcover                       978-1-5437-4531-3

                            Softcover                         978-1-5437-4530-6

                            eBook                              978-1-5437-4532-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

www.partridgepublishing.com/singapore

Two Unfinished Stories of

Women in Crisis

Skirmishes at Home

And Battles in Society

WAR

Beyond Borders

DEDICATION

To my late parents- Gian Prakash Gour and Lajyawati,

To my late sister and brothers- Yashpal, Prem, Mohan and Gargi

To my late father-in-law Narsingh Dev Sharda and mother-in-law Sita Rani.

To my wife Kamlesh, son Sanjay, daughter Bharati, daughter-in-law Hwee-Leng, son-in-law Shyam and grandchildren Aashish, Rishi, Prem, Kris and Khushi.

To all the women and men who believe in respecting one another regardless of differences in faith, race, caste, class and gender.

THANKS

To those who have contributed directly or indirectly in providing the information required.

To late Mr. K.M. Bhaskar, film director, for sharing his experiences during the world war 2

To The Writer’s Midwife, Elizabeth Ridley, for editing with constructive criticism.

First Story

Skirmishes at Home

And Battles in Society

T his story is of an illiterate and naive girl, Tara, who wants to rise above herself in ‘man’s world’. It is set in rural villages in India before and after the 1970s. The episodes and characters are fictional. However, some of the incidents are based on stories narrated by real-life individuals. These are heart-wrenching and heart-warming as well as inspiring, questioning the very existence of humanity in human beings in a progressive society.

Story 1

Tara

Tara was a farmer’s daughter. She did not know what her future would be. She and her parents lived a simple life in a small village. Her father used to leave home before sunrise to work in the field, and returned after sunset. Tara and her mother stayed home doing household chores—washing dirty utensils and clothes, housekeeping and cooking. When she was free from this, she spent time stitching and knitting. Her favourite was cross-stitch designs. She did one on her mother’s shawl—two colourful butterflies, one sitting on a big sunflower and the other fluttering around. She was happy doing all this. Yet her wish was to go to school and learn how to read and write. But education was not for her. Her parents believed, ‘a girl is supposed to master all the housework and be a good housewife after marriage, give birth and look after children, serve her husband and his family.’ So, she mainly remained at home and went out only to buy things for daily needs.

Today Tara’s father came home earlier. His wife wondered why. He wiped the sweat off his face and sat on a cot on the veranda. His wife gave him a glass of water and sat near him on the floor, anxiously waiting for him to say something. He finished drinking the water in one gulp, gave a sigh of relief, and said, Lachmi, you remember? We asked the matchmaker to find a husband for Tara.

Lachmi looked into his eyes wanting to know more.

He smiled. Today he came with a proposal.

Lachmi moved nearer to him to hear more. The boy’s family wants the marriage to take place soon and has suggested a date this month, he said.

Lachmi had a broad smile on her face, which quickly disappeared. She wondered, How are we going to make all the arrangements for the marriage? How much dowry do they want? He said, We have to get our daughter married as soon as possible. She is a ‘paraya dhan,’ belonging to the man she will marry. We are only custodians until she is given away after marriage. How long can we keep her at home? We somehow have to manage the dowry.

Lachmi just shook her head, lightly, as if she understood what he meant. She called Tara and gestured for her to come and sit beside her. Tara quietly sat down, looking at the floor. Her mother said gently, You are going to get married this month.

Tara kept quiet and looked at her mother, expressionless, but there was a voice in her mind saying, ‘A girl is supposed to marry a man that her parents choose for her. I have no say in deciding who to marry.’

Accordingly, Tara was married to Ramu, a farmer, whom she had never seen or met. After the marriage ceremony, she left her parents in a simple doli (also known as palki). A Doli is like a cot covered with an awning decorated with flowers and carried by two or four men. Tara sat on it with a veil of sari on her face. Before sitting in the doli, she cried loudly on the shoulders of her parents, as if she was separating from them forever. Her mother cried with her.

It was time to go to her husband’s house. She sat inside the doli.

As the doli went farther from her home, she lifted her veil a little just to look back. Behind her was a bullock-cart carrying dowry items given by her parents. The items were household furniture, kitchen utensils, a bicycle, and a radio. Even a cow was included as an item of the dowry. A big metal bell was hanging from the cow’s neck, producing a continuous Tun-Tun-Tun sound as it followed the doli.

Tara remembered seeing her parents giving some gold and silver coins and jewellery to her in-laws. ‘How have my poor parents managed to give so much? Have they taken out a loan or sold something precious to them, just to marry me off?’

The more she thought about all this, the more depressed she felt. Her face turned pale.

There were so many questions lingering in her mind that made her confused and restless.

‘I do not know where I am going. What kind of man is my husband? How will he and his family treat me?’

Tears flowed down her cheeks with the thought, ‘Am I separating from my parents forever?’

Tara remembered what her mother said to her before departing: Your home is where your husband lives. You will have to make all the efforts to please him, as well as his parents and relatives. You will not think of coming back without your husband’s consent, no matter what happens.

‘Does it mean I could not be sheltered by my parents if the marriage goes wrong?’ Her mind asked questions, more and more, casting shadows of doubts and confusion. A shiver ran through her body like a current.

‘Why am I so shocked and worried?’ she murmured.

She lifted her veil and looked out from the doli for fresh air. She found herself far away from her village. It was no longer in sight. Her heart started beating fast with unknown fear.

The sound of beating drums broke the chain of her fearful thoughts. She lifted the veil further. People were dancing in front of a house and her husband was sitting on a horse with his face covered by strings of jasmine flowers. This was the first time Tara saw her husband. He had a large build, dark skin, and a bushy moustache. He looked much older than her.

‘This was not the man I ever dreamt of marrying. Yet, I accepted him as he was the choice of my parents, and I was married to him.’ Tara consoled herself with a deep sigh.

At night when Ramu went to bed with Tara, he was drunk and holding a bottle of whisky in hand. Tara covered her nose with her sari and murmured, ‘He is smelling like a rotten egg.’ And then she moved farther from him.

Ramu went closer to Tara, almost throwing himself on her. Tara squeezed herself to the edge of the bed, holding her chest tight in her arms to protect herself. Ramu had more whisky from the bottle, and started forcing her to drink. Tara resisted by pushing him, and keeping the bottle away.

Ramu said with a loud voice, You are my woman. Do as I say!

Tara trembled. Please don’t assault.

Ramu leapt on her like an animal. She fell from the bed as she tried to move further away. Ramu shouted, Get back on the bed.

Tara ran out of the room and went to her mother-in-law, crying. Mother-in-law said, I know what has happened. I heard everything…Listen to me. Husband has the right to treat his wife as he wants. He can even beat her, and she must endure it. So, go back to him. I too did the same when I was married.

Drunk Ramu slept on the bed lying on his stomach. Vomit dripped from his mouth onto the floor. There was a terrible smell. Tara cleaned the mess, and lay down, slouched, on the floor in a corner of the room. Her eyes were wide open. She spent a sleepless night looking at the ceiling, wondering: ‘Will I be living like this my whole life?’

At dawn a rooster’s crowing woke up Ramu with a big yawn. Tara was in the kitchen cutting vegetables, and boiling milk.

Ramu went outside the house with a tumbler of water. He squatted behind bushes to poo and released himself making loud ‘ooo ah ooo aah’ noises. Surely these noises were the sign of his ill manners.

When he returned home, Tara turned her face away from him in disgust, served him breakfast, and handed him a lunch box without looking at him. Take your lunch, she murmured.

Ramu snatched the lunch box from her hand and hurried out.

Mother-in-law told Tara, Starting tomorrow, fetch water from the community well before dawn.

Tara carried two big buckets of water from the well and walked almost half an hour to reach home. Later she got firewood from a wood stall for cooking. After cooking she collected ashes from the burnt wood to clean utensils, washed clothes with her hands, and spread them on a line to dry in the sun.

Ramu returned home after work, and shouted, Tara!

Tara came quickly with a glass of water for him to drink. Softly she said, You must be thirsty, have some water.

Ramu told her loudly, I do not need water. Bring my whiskey.

Tara quickly returned to get a bottle of whiskey from his room. He sat on a cot on the veranda and ordered, "Go and bring my hookah with charcoal and tobacco."

Tara went back quickly, prepared the hookah with smouldering charcoal and gave it to him with tobacco. Ramu asked her, Sit down on the floor and press my legs.

Tara did whatever he said. And he relaxed, puffing the hookah.

Later, Tara retreated to the kitchen. Soon again he shouted, Tara!

Tara was busy cutting vegetables. She did not hear him. He shouted louder with anger. Taraaa!

Tara ran to him. He showed his big eyes to her and said, You do not listen.

Tara meekly said, I was busy cooking and did not hear you.

Ramus snarled at her, Liar. And then all hell broke out. He started throwing things at her, even his shoes. She shielded herself with her hands on her face.

Ramu’s mother was standing still and watching.

His father moved forward to intervene, but his wife stopped him, and told Tara, Go to your room.

Tara ran, crying, closed the door, and threw herself on the bed. Ramu started puffing heavily on his hookah.

At bed time he was drunk and forced her to have sex against her will. I am sick, she said. But he did not care. He used force on her. Tara could not confront him anymore and submitted to him.

The in-laws were expecting her to become pregnant soon.

They demanded, Give us a grandson.

When her husband and in-laws did not see any sign of pregnancy, they blamed her. You must be taking some medicine not to get pregnant.

Tara said firmly with anger, No. I am not.

Ramu yelled, "How dare you to talk