As Leela walks towards the window in the first floor and stares at the sky, clouds are gathering. All of a sudden she feels like going to her father’s house.

It’s two years since Leela got married. In the past two years, such an idea never ever struck her mind. It must be said that she has almost forgotten her parents.

Her husband, Mohan, used to say, “Well! Why don’t you visit them once!”

“Without being asked by them?”, Leela used to say.

Mohan did know that her parents would not invite them to their home. None of them had liked Leela marrying him. They held a high opinion of Leela’s beauty, intelligence, and her horoscope. It was also their belief that Mohan was not the right bridegroom for Leela. They had also attempted to preach Leela against it in different ways. They had exaggerated the inadequacies of Mohan to her.

“He has no eye for earning”, said they.

This didn’t appear to her as an inadequacy then. It is the common folks who would stay focused on making money. “Mohan is an uncommon man”, thought she.

 “He has no stable mind”, said they. 

This didn’t appear to Leela as an inadequacy then. She thought “Mohan is a devotee of art, ever-new, an intellectual who strives to acquire fullness of life by constantly imbibing new experiences.”

They told many things against him. She thought it was Mohan’s thirst for art that lead to their misunderstanding. She laughed at their innocence. She marveled: “Would Mohan —her Mohan—be comprehensible to these common folks?” 

Much against the wishes of everybody in the family, Leela finally married Mohan. Neither her parents, nor her brother or sister attended her marriage. Of course, for Leela, who was floating in happiness, the not coming of her kin didn’t matter. All the poets, writers, art-lovers of the town have come and blessed the new couple. Mohan, who was striving for newness everyday, was complimented by everyone that he is blessed with a ‘divine-light’. Leela was floored by their commendations. She felt proud of becoming the wife of such a great man. She decided to dedicate her life to assist Mohan in fulfilling his ideals.

Desiring to spend the time immediately after marriage merrily, they set out to visit pilgrimage centers, important places, and beautiful sights. They visited Srirangam, Kanchi, Mathura, Ajanta, Hampi, Ellora, etc. When Leela saw the sights of Hampi and Ellora, her heart thawed. Mohan explained their past glory and present status vividly to her. He also described to her the marvel of the sculpture in Hampi and the dexterity of the art in the Ajanta caves.

“See! That’s the greatness of our past!” said Mohan.

Her heart swelled with joy.

“Look at the current plight!” said he.

Her heart sunk.   

She was angered at the inability of the race to protect and enjoy such lofty grandeur, and beauty. She thought that if only there are a few more art connoisseurs and worshippers, like Mohan, the nation would have not ended up in such a plight. At that moment, Mohan appeared to her as a demigod. He appeared as an embodiment of natural grace.

“My Mohan! My Mohan!” she whispered to herself; lulled herself in ecstasy. She had decided to get Mohan perform many great deeds.  

The couple returned home.

Mohan is an artist. He had inherited very little wealth. Hence, he used to encounter many financial problems. Leela was, of course, aware of this. Well before marriage itself, he had told her about his family background and financial problems. She felt happy about his frankness.

“Man of no worldly wisdom!” said she coquettishly.

“What?” asked Mohan anxiously.

“Would anyone let the girl whom he is going to marry know these truths?” said she.

“Ok, as you wish”, said Mohan.

“Forever, that’s what my wish is”, said Leela.

This conversation was always fresh in her mind. Hence, immediately after returning home, having decided to manage the family frugally, she spoke to Mohan about it.

“As you like, we are after all two, won’t it get managed?” said Mohan with a smile.

Leela understood that smile. Mohan didn’t like having children. She too didn’t have the desire of having children. She has seen many families living in disgust with plenty of children not being able to run the family. It was her belief that art and children will not go together. She could not imagine Mohan, her art-loving Mohan, as a father of children. In ecstasy, Mohan would be drawing a picture. His younger son would run to him asking, “Nanna (father), kani (denomination that was in use up to 1960; sixty-fourth of a rupee)”. Startled, Mohan would suddenly come into this world, stare down as though staring from another world. Son would say, “kani”. 

Daughter would come. Mohan would be drawing a picture; would be anxious when it will be done. Daughter would say, “nanna”. With brush in his hand, Mohan would turn and look. “Take me up”, would say the daughter.

She would come. Mohan would be drawing a picture. “Mohan! My Mohan!” she would call. He would turn and look longingly at her. Seeing her, he would become despondent.

She would not look like herself. Now, she is a mother of many children. Beauty declined. Youth lost. Skin wrinkled.

 “Who are you?” Mohan would say.

 “Your Leela”, she would say.

 Mohan would say: “No”, “No”. He would drop the brush in hand. He would stumble into the chair lying beside.

“No”, “No children”, Leela tells herself.  

Since then, Leela was not moving out of the house. Won’t go even for a stroll. Was not visiting even her close relatives. Always stayed beside Mohan. She used to arrange everything that he needed for his painting. She used to ensure that he was not subjected to any problem. She thus ended up with no life of her own. Mohan’s life alone had become her life.

Days were thus rolling on. Mohan was painting picture after picture. Leela should always remain by his side. Without Leela, his brush did not move. If she is not visible even for a minute, he would go around in search of her, calling, “Leela”, “Leela”.

Mohan’s infatuation for her made Leela happy. The fact that her beauty was the cause for Mohan drawing so many pictures, made every cell in her body feel proud.

“My poor Mohan! What would have you been, had I not been …”, saying she used to set his front-locks.    

“If you aren’t there, there would be no Mohan that day”, Mohan used to say.

What a sway these words of Mohan used to put her heart into!   She used to long to listen to those words again and again by making Mohan say them.         

Usually, every evening they used to sit in the backyard in chairs put under the jasmine bower. On such occasions, it had become a habit for Mohan to bring with him aromatic substances such as Sandal paste, Civet, etc. Keeping them carefully beside her, he would pick handful of jasmine flowers and put them in her hair. He would spread the aromatic substances around her neck and over his hands. In the charm of their enthralling fragrance, he used to read books for her. But those books were beyond her comprehension. However, his way of turning the pages of books with his fingertips was a great attraction for her. In between, he used to say, “Wow! What a profound thought”. She used to say, “yes” staring at his fingertips.

“Leela! What else do we need in life except to read books like this, draw pictures and sit together far away from worldly quarrels”, he used to say.

“Yes”, she used to say watching his fingertips.

“Leela! We are an ideal couple. Aren’t we? How lucky we are!” Mohan used to say, while taking her into his embrace.

At such moments, she used to feel as though she was taking bath in Mandakini (aVs per Hindu mythology, it is a celestial river) in the heaven. But soon, some certain anguish—dissatisfaction used to emerge from within. She used to think that such dissatisfaction was more out of her own fault. She used to curse herself for not being able to catch up with the stature that Mohan was heading towards.

Immediately she used to remember the state of affairs of the family. Every art lover of the town did praise Mohan’s paintings. But there were none to buy them. Leela used to think that someone or the other would come some day. Leela used to hope, “Wouldn’t there be at least a single art lover somewhere, wouldn’t he turn up sometime or the other”. 

One day that man did come. He requested Mohan to draw a picture for him and went away.

Mohan started painting it. He said to Leela that he would draw a magnificent picture using all his adroitness. Leela hurried him to finish the painting quickly. Fearing that it may get delayed, she used to arrange for everything that is required for his painting without being asked. Colors exhausted. Brushes changed. Slowly the picture acquired a man’s shape. Seeing it, Mohan overflowed with joy. He explained to Leela all that he wanted to express through that picture. She too felt it was a masterpiece. Both were enthralled.

Next day, the gentleman who asked for the picture came. Mohan showed the picture to him. Leela anxiously waited for his response. The gentleman examined the picture.

“Oh, No!” he expressed his dissatisfaction.

“What?” asked Mohan. He felt that the whole world was reeling.

“What picture is this?” asked the gentleman.

“Why?” asked Mohan.

“This is not what I asked you to paint”, said the gentleman.

Mohan got angry. “This uninitiated (into art) asking me to draw a picture, and me to draw?” felt Mohan. He also felt a little happy at not painting it the way he wanted. 

“I painted the way I liked it”, said he. 

“So then you retain it”, said the gentleman.

“Ok, you can go”, said Mohan. 

The gentleman hurriedly walked out. Leela could not understand what to do. In despondency, she stood staring. 

As soon as he left, Mohan losing his senses in intense anger started murmuring, “Stupids, cultureless fellows, impoverished art-seekers”. He could not look at Leela’s face. He knew that Leela’s heart might have broken into pieces. He was afraid to look into her face that was clouded by despair. He went out. 

Leela stood lifeless. Didn’t even know how long she stayed like that. The painting that they had created by working day and night is just in front of her. It appears, as though   staring at her. The colors, and the brushes that were used for painting the picture are right there staring at her. That room was boiling with all the labor that she expended for getting a great painting done by Mohan. Every article in that room was echoing this loudly. She could no longer stand there. She moved towards the window with heavy steps. As she looked at the sky, clouds were gathering. Suddenly, she felt like going to her father’s home. At once Leela remembered her whole life. It appeared as a fathomless abyss. Mother, father, brother, sister, she remembered everything. 

“Amma (Mother), you are younger, you listen to me”, said father. 

“His manassu (cognition power) is as soft as butter, nanna”, said she. 

“That’s not a good quality amma. It is an inability that comes out of one’s lack of courage to face the challenges of life”, said father. 

“See nanna, he adores women folk”, said she. 

“What adoration for women, amma?” said father. 

“Not that nanna, he has terrific respect for women. He speaks to them quite softly and pleasantly”, said she. 

“Whoever looks at every women alike, cannot make a wife happy talli (A father while addressing his daughter with flowing compassion, uses the word ‘talli’ which literally means mother)”, said father. Now, her father’s words appear to Leela to be true. Many women used to come to see Mohan’s paintings. He used to behave as closely with all of them as he behaved with her. He used to give aromatic products such as Civet, Sandal paste, etc. He used to pluck jasmines, tie them into a garland and present to all of them. In Mohan’s perspective, me and other ladies are one? No difference? There is no special affection for me? To adore women is his nature, is it the same reason for adoring me too? Nothing special about me? Not my beauty? Not my intelligence? Not even my adoration for him? 

All these thoughts stirred up a thunderstorm in her heart. She turned her stare towards the street. Men and women are running in the street hither and thither in confusion.

Everything appeared new to her. Having lived with Mohan in a castle built in air, the world has suddenly become new for her. Not being able to see it, she turned her face to another side. There, children are playing. She remembered their decision not to have children. It immediately reminded her of her friend, Vimala.

Vimala is her childhood friend. Both had studied together. After her marriage, she came to see her once. Seeing Vimala, her life bounced back. She had shown all the paintings drawn by Mohan. She told her about Mohan’s greatness. She praised his lofty ideals. Listening to all that she said, Vimala questioned her: “That’s ok! What are you doing?”

“Me…?” she stammered. She realized then that she was not doing anything specific and she is accountable to do something of her own.

 “Not doing anything”, said she.

 “Why?” asked Vimala.

 “Mohan cannot draw pictures if I am not by his side”, said she.

 “What is this Leela? You are educated. Should there not be life of your own?” asked Vimala.

 “I didn’t feel it necessary. I feel contended with helping Mohan”, said she.

Hearing this, Vimala cast look of surprise. That stare was still haunting her, still pin-pricking her. Vimala appears to be engaged in social service. She talked for an hour about the problems that ladies and the poor folk in the society are suffering. She said: “Woman should not remain a mere slave of man. She too must have a life of her own. After all, she is also a living being. She too will have her own thoughts and her own wants. They are to be fulfilled.” Finally, before leaving, Vimala said, “Your Mohan appears to be pretty selfish, Leela! Except about his comforts, he does not appear to be thinking of you.”

 “Oh! Please don’t say that of him”, said she.

 “So then what is he doing?”

 “Has he asked me to do it? On my own volition, I am doing.”

 “So what, even if you like? He knows everything. Hasn’t he the responsibility to explain to you?”

Leela thought over. Was it true that she didn’t have a life of her own? What is the truth in the sayings of Vimala? Doesn’t she have a life of her own? To cheer up Mohan and make him draw good paintings, enable him to perform great deeds was what her life was all about. Without helping others, if everyone starts creating a small world of their own and sit in it, how could there be harmony in the world? How could cooperation become feasible? How could there be progress? Why then, this dissatisfaction for her? About whom? For what? Is this dissatisfaction not concerning herself! How come, what had this far given her pleasure, was now not able to give the same? Whose fault is this? Is it hers? Mohan’s? What is Mohan’s fault? Despite reasoning critically, nothing appears as his fault. Even now he is treating her with the same love and affection with which he had cared for her in the beginning. There is not even an iota of change in him. It is the same thoughts… same changes… same actions… same perspective… so, where is then his fault! Then, has she done any wrong? She has been trying to do her best to keep Mohan happy. She still loves him deeply. But, how come, the words that earlier moved her are no longer able to create the same effect in her? Earlier, even if he sits by her side, she used to experience ecstasy. Now, it is vexation. She is fed up with the mildness of his tone. Why can’t he speak firmly with authority?  She felt like seeing him in anger. How would it look if he yells?

Prior to marriage, when she was with her friends, if he came and talked sitting by her side, she felt proud of it. But now, if he even comes nearer to her in the presence of her friends, she feels embarrassed, a kind of uneasiness. Why? Because, they may think otherwise? Previously, isn’t it their thinking of that sort, which made her feel proud!  Why now this…?

Has she changed? Changed because, he is not earning? The fact that he is not earning is his affliction too, but he does not appear to be suffering from pain.

Otherwise, as Vimala said, go for social service? Then, what would happen to her Mohan? Can she continue to love Mohan as hitherto? What if, if she cannot. All of a sudden, life appears to her as a desert. Her heart, choked by so many thoughts, all of a sudden became non-existent. Not being able to love Mohan, her Mohan!

“Leela”, whose is that call? Where did she hear that?  Ajanta – Hampi – Srirangam – Kanchi – Mathura – Ellora….

Mohan entered the room. He is anxious to say something. He had seen tears in her eyes.

“What is this?” asked he.

“Nothing”, said Leela.

At once she was reminded of their resolution not to keep secrets between them. But what else could she say?

 * * * * *

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