Anita Tuladhar
Numbness overcame him for a while, and his train of thought was broken he thought he heard the shrill voice of Kimmu sounding on a higher note. Under the present circumstances there was no possibility of Kimmu being anywhere near; no. not at all. He knew that it was nothing but a hallucination. Even then his eyes wandered around with a faint pulsation of hope. He laced and unlaced his fingers. His restlessness was spattered all over the room. His breathing had changed into one continuous sigh.
Never had the thought crossed his mind that a day like this would come in his life. The only image he had before his eyes was that of Kummu-Kummu in the full blast of her youth, attended by the full fury of youth. It filled out his field of vision from end to tend, leaving room for nothing else. She stood right up to the edge of his eyelids, and he had no strength to sweep her aside. All that he could do was to close his eyes slowly in a desperate effort to imprison her in the cavity of his eyes. He closed his eyes slowly, very very slowly as if he were afraid lest any quick motion should bruise her delicate frame. He would travel with her to the end of his dream, not in a hurry; but slowly, very slowly. He could not realize that his thoughts were taking the form of a dream. He was not aware that Kimmu, who was held a prisoner in the caverns of his eyes, was slipping out from beneath his eyelashes. As a matter of fact, he relished immensely that part of his life where dream and reality changes places in an unbroken sequence.
When Kimmu made her debut on the stage of his life, she came in the guise of his cousin. They passed many years of their life in this fashion without the least sense of difficulty or oddity. In the eyes of the world they were cousins, a brother and sister. Kimmu also viewed him as nothing else but his brother, and so did he. To him she was no more or less than a sister. But now when he looked back, he realized that in the real crevices of his mind there lay hidden a sentiment which lacked expression, or which lay beyond any desire for expression.
He knew in his heart of hearts that his intimacy with Kimmu was greater than with anybody else. Also, it was a kind of intimacy which he had with none – a strange kind of intimacy, a shy kind of intimacy. He did not know the sort of feeling which he awakened in the mind of Kimmu. Perhaps he was not interested in finding out. He was lost in himself. He found it more entertaining to steal a glance at her. He remembered how elated he was when they walked together for the first time on their way to school. On that day he had looked deep into her eyes and the way her eyes sparkled was enough to make him jump to the conclusion that she shared his joys in equal measure. He did not realize that her gleaming eyes and her gestures, so unique and distinct, had been drawing him towards her closer and closer with the irresistible force of a magnet, or maybe he did not wish to focus the image on his conscious mind. But he knew at least this much that a slow but steady change was taking place in the nature Kimmu. At sight of him she would become radiant with an inward glow, and her smile would attain a greater depth. But the tide of change that swept over her did not include furtiveness and dissimulation. He was sure of that.
They started passing hours together in one room on the pretext of joint study, which gave them the opportunity to become more and more uninhibited towards each other. As the vile of inhibition was torn apart, they arrived at a deeper level of understanding. Nothing stood in their way. Members of both the families noticed with pleasure the signs of greater intimacy between them. Their relationship was appreciated as something that deserved emulation. Such an attitude was a source of satisfaction to them, because by then he had understood Kimmu full well, and vice versa. Inwardly, they were no less than lovers.
In most case people find it difficult and dangerous to walk along the path of love. To them, however, it was strewn with roses. It stretched ahead with no hurdles in sight as far as one could see. Nobody knew what was going on between them. How could anybody suspect that a brother and sister should become lovers . That was a coincidence, or an outcome of the force of circumstances, so hard to believe. The number of young men who were attracted by the youth and beauty of Kimmu was growing day by day, making him turn green with jealousy, or casting on him the dark shadow of fear. Overwhelmed by such distractions, he would cling to Kimmu and lay bare his lacerated heart.
Often he put before her the question, “Do we or don’t we have to abandon this path? Shan’t we be tired and exhausted as we approach the end of the road?”
Kimmu would sometimes shrug off such questions with a laugh, and sometimes she too would confront her guilty conscience. On such occasion, which were rather rare, she would acknowledge with some trepidation of heart. “Yes, we should part company at the next turn. We should vanish from each other’s view at the first loop we come to. Tongues have started wagging in greater number. How long can we throw dust in their eyes? Wherever we go, questioning eyes are cast on us. But the trouble is we’ll know no peace, even though we leave this path. In fact, I feel that we are sailing on a river of no return, that we must sail on to the very end, whether we like it or not. We’ll part from each other only at that point where there is no chance of reunion anymore.”
His thirsty ears would lap up the music of Kimmu’s voice until it came to a stop. Then he would add: Yes, Kimmu, you’re right. No force on earth can divide us now except death because it happens to be our own firm resolve. However, there’s no deny that the road is getting narrower and steeper with each passing day.”
Kimmu has no desire to limit the scope of life. That was why he too was compelled or inclined to extend the frontiers of life. They lived in a world of their own. Yet, the everyday world impinged on them ever so often. As such moments the would become conscious of their guilt, but without any strong and impatient desire to get rid of it root and branch.
No man takes the trouble of thinking seriously until he is forced to come to terms with a special situation, until he suddenly collides with something unforeseen or unexpected. Such a situation creates a shock wave which affects him, and him alone. In his lonely reveries he too had envisioned many shocking encounters which left him high and dry, at least in his own imagination. But most often he would find himself thinking of Kimmu, and staging a re-play of the intoxicating moments he had had with her. In particular, the recollection of the way he used to fondle her locks of silken hair never failed to stir his passion to the core. He lacked the courage to portray a sinister and awesome scenario. If by chance any such thoughts strayed into his consciousness he would get ride of them as fast as he could. His constant endeavor was to stay away from the world of reality. But he could not blunt the edge of the silent social censure. He knew that his conduct was looked upon with disapproval by his entire family. When he was alone, he underwent the torture of the damned. But as soon as Kimmu came and stood before him, the whole perspective changed as if by magic. He would then feel that Kimmu was the living reality, compared to which nothing else mattered. He would conclude that any amount of mental torment was worth going through for the sake of Kimmu. She was the anchor to moor his ship on the sea of life.
Kimmu, who was well aware of the sinful or criminal course she was following, had no wish to yield to any threat or intimidation, whether overt or convert. Her only goal was to lead a peaceful life, and she viewed as her enemy number one anyone who threatened to disturb the even tenor of her life. But how long could she hold the tide back? She liked to pursue her own train of thought without any interference from any quarter. But how long could she hold a wolf by the ear?
One day he observed in a tired voice, “One thing is certain: the prevailing social custom places a taboo on our marriage. Granted. But the problem is we cannot live apart.”
Kimmu’s response to that gloomy muttering was unexpectedly bright and spirited. She said, “If you worry over such a trifling, it may diminish your natural span of life. I see no reason for pulling a long face. As a matter of fact, what I see before me is a longer and wider vista. Since, obviously, we can no longer belong to any third party in body or spirit, since I’ve dedicated my body and soul to you, and since you too are in the same boat, whether you like if or not, I suggest that you get married to a nice girl, while at the same I get married to a nice young man. We’ll have nothing to do with them. To us they will be like wooden effigies, while we follow the path of love as now. Our respective weddings will function as a smoke-screen to keep away the prying eyes of the world.”
His blank, staring eyes suddenly gleamed with excitement as if the pain he had experienced a while ago was a hallucination, a mere figment of his imagination. All at once a desire welled up in him to smother Kimmu in a heap of jasmines, to bathe her in a pool of fragrance. Long they embraced each other exchanging strings of sweet nothingness before a source of strength. Whenever he felt that his path was strewn with all kinds of difficulties, her presence was enough to melt them away like the snows of yesteryears. He always found himself on the same wavelength with Kimmu. He never differed with her. Perhaps she was prudent enough to steer clear of the chances of mutual bickering. Perhaps she knew how to exercise the art of friendly persuasion.
It had been many days since the whole house was in a state of confusion. Because of the multiplicity of actions going on simultaneously, such as the repainting of walls, the repairing of some crumbling plasters, and other activities connected with the holding of the marriage ceremony, there was no air of peace and order. The eyes of those who viewed her with veiled suspicion were fixed on her like a rivet. But she remained unperturbed. She all owed no change to come over her. Her conscious effort to reveal no change won the day.
As a matter fact, she was deliberately creating a situation where the interest of love was being suspended for the time being to don the garb of a bride. Or, more correctly, she was getting ready to cast herself into the double role of lover and wife, twin aspects of the same woman. For a brief moment, her will wavered, but only for a brief moment. It was a road which very few people had dared to traverse. And even before essaying the first step on this ingenious path she was curious to find out what its final outcome would be. At times she would look upon the whole project as a piece of devilry, a treacherous ac or a criminal pursuit, she would realize with horror that her whole attitude towards life was out of shape, crooked and unshapely like a thing reflected on a curved mirror.
Sometimes similar thoughts would haunt the mind of Kimmu’s cousin. But that did not pose any threat because, whatever his ideas and feelings, they would melt away in the torrid presence of Kimmu. Reduced to silence, he would sink down like a shadow. Both of them were bent on finding a way out of the impasse facing them. According to the strategy worked out by Kimmu. In their heart of hearts the kind of deceit they were planning together was distasteful, and even disgusting. It was not a thing of their choosing. The choice was forced upon them by a blind force.
One day Kimmu rushed into his room like a storm-tossed bird. There she found him sprawled on the bed, distraught and shaken. The sight made her angry. With a supreme effort, she smothered the fire and stood still before him without opening her mouth. Find himself in the presence this resourceful and single-minded person, he could no longer hold himself in check, and gave vent to his gloomy thoughts straightaway: “What does life have in store for us? Kimmu, marring as planned, won’t we be making a hash of our putative partners? Won’t that be a sinful act bringing on us dire consequences? This thought frightens me so much that I have half a mind to go and undo what has so far been done.”
His display of timidity at the eleventh hour amused Kimmu. None the less, the situation was serious enough to necessitate the deployment of all her resources to shore up his sagging resolve. The gaiety of light-heartedness with which she approached the problem was highly infectious, and he hoped that it would carry him along to the far-off shore where there was no vacillation, no weak-mindedness. That was his dream, but would it ever come true?
Fighting tooth and nail against heavy odds and, more particularly against the scruples of their own inner selves, they at last got married each in his own way. Kimmu stepped into a new household as a lawfully wedded wife, bottling up her wishes and desires in one small corner of her heart. Similarly, her cousin also had the dubious pleasure of welcoming home a new bride, a wholly dedicated bride. In both cases, the march of events was so imperious and inexorable that it allowed them not a single moment to pause and think how ludicrous the entire proceedings were. There was no room for doubt and hesitation. Like a pair of castaways trapped by a swollen river they rushed headlong, looking neither to the right nor to the left.
The by-standers were happy to see them part company, not knowing that the end-result of this joint effort was to open for them a wider and smoother avenue. To them the institution of marriage functioned as a ‘front’ to cover their illicit relationship. Now they could come together wherever they liked and as long as they liked without anybody daring to level at them their accusing fingers. But whether the tongues wagged or not, Kimmu’s husband’s mind was overcast with clouds of suspicion to such an extent as to make her uncomfortable. Still, the boat of life sailed on. To him his newlywed wife was no more than a clay figure whose absence did not torment him, and whose acquisition could not be prized as an achievement. When he looked at his wife, his eyes were not filled with the immensity of the ocean nor with the infinitude of the sky. As the days passed by, his wife ceased to awoken his desire. Intimacy slowly gave place to indifference, and, instead of converging, their paths diverged, describing a wider and wider angle.
On the other hand, her husband as saluted Kimmu with his barbed tongue with increasing frequency . But she was inured to such vile moods and stormy weathers. Long practice spread over so many years had had thickened her skin. One day, abandoning his shackles of self-control, he cried foaming and frothing : “He shouldn’t be allowed to have a free run like this, even though he’s your cousin. There’s a limit to everything , and when one crosses it, even the stones will speak out. We live in a society: we cannot set it at naught. We can ill afford to live the life of an outcaste. In any case our constant endeavor should be to stay within limits instead of going beyond them. We shall do well to bear this in mind for our happiness depends on it.”
Kimmu had no ears for such words of wisdom. She was not born to observe any rules or respect any values. As a result, her husband obtained from her nothing but torture and restlessness. He was fated to become a prey to anxieties and ominous thoughts. The galling restraints only helped create and explosive situation. Within the four walls of the conjugal life Kimmu was determined to push her self interest up to, and beyond, the outside limits, while her husband’s desire was to beat his wings within the cage. So far as her cousin was concerned, he had perfected the art of suffering in silence, without noticing the existence of his wife, and treating her as a clay figure.
It fell to the lot of the impulsive and self-assertive Kimmu to cross the Rubicon. She brought the simmering brew to the boiling-point and dashed out of her husband’s house in a towering rage, fully determined never to retrace her footsteps. She flew straight to her cousin’s house, hoping to receive a reassuring pat on her back. But that was not to be. The knowledge of her irrevocable action failed to provoke his slant dust. He did not rise like a storm to embrace her with dazzling flashes of lightning. Instead, he remained silent and inert like a tempest that had spent its fury. The room where he lived was charged with what might be called the lull after the storm. Its brooding presence was unbearably suffocating.
An unnatural fixity descended on the eyes of Kimmu. It became suddenly avoid of its customary sparkle. It revealed no flaming passion, nor did it show any signs of the white ashes covering the dying embers. It lacked the pageant of the flowering spring though it was not yet marked by the sadness, the aftermath of the dying season. Her eyes were like a wide expanse of a meadow, as if they were lost in the contemplation of a future that was being born.
Translation: Tritha Raj Tuladhar