Jealousy by Chalam (Translated from Telugu)

I and Chalapathy Rao are good friends. While we were studying B.A, one evening Chalapathy Rao suddenly turned deeply sympathetic to the hardships of widows and grew fondness towards them. He firmly resolved to marry no one but a widow. When his maternal uncle had come to offer his daughter’s hand in marriage, he rebuked, “Let her become a widow first”. 

While studying L.T., we moved into the same room. Kumaraswamy owned the house we stayed in. It was almost impossible to study in the house because of his wife’s laughter, and we used to get scolded in college daily. We got to see her very rarely. But if we happened to see her, eyes would turn blind to every other thing that day. Chalapathy Rao said he would only marry someone like her. He wants a girl like her, and she should be a widow. It seemed impossible. Otherwise, someone should murder Kumaraswamy. Chalapathy placed a third condition that she should bow her head and fall in his embrace. There is evidence in Indian history where a woman gets enamoured by her husband’s murderer. But none of these events belong to Andhra Pradesh. This girl does not even raise her eyes to look at him. 

Four years have passed. Chalapathy Rao married Kumaraswamy’s wife. He wrote to me that the three conditions that seemed impossible were fulfilled. I was sad for a week looking at my wife’s crooked posture when she was preparing broth near the stove and reminiscing about the beauty of Kumaraswamy’s ex-wife and Chalapathy Rao’s new wife. Later, I forgot about it.

Three years have passed. I happened to go to Bejawada. I stayed at Chalapathy Rao’s house for three days and took leave from them to go back home by train. I missed the train. It was too cold to sleep in the railway station, and I couldn’t go back to wake up that couple. I jumped into their verandah from the small front gate, spread my ordinary cot, removed the blanket from my railway bag, placed my backpack as a pillow, and lay down to sleep. I could hear voices from inside the house. If I had known there would be an intense conversation, I would have indicated my presence to them. After listening to them for a while, I thought it was not right to do that. But it was too cold to leave. 

“But you used to see me in the outer room.”

“When?”

“[Reluctantly] when you were with Kumaraswamy- Then! … didn’t you love me when you saw me?”

“Why would that happen? Who were you?”

“Is that it? What about now?”

“Why do you ask?”

“When you didn’t love me back then, how could you now?”

“Would I marry you without loving you?”

“What about him…. that Kumaraswamy… when he was alive, would you have eloped with me?” 

“Isn’t that wrong?” 

“Then, where is the love for me?”

No answer

“Let it be, did you love him more or me?!”

“Definitely you! You doubt that?”

“Does he love you as much as I do?” Did he love you as much as I do?

“Yes”

“But didn’t he get angry at you sometimes?”

“What’s in that anger… it was merely playful.”

[With a stiff tone] “Then aren’t you wishing it would have been better if he was alive?”

“Ugh”

“What?”

“Then how would I have known you?”

“What if you didn’t? Weren’t you happy with him?”

“Then what about your love?”

“So your lovers have to be changing. Would it be better if I die now?”

“Go away, it’s too much.”

“Tell me!”

She remained quiet. 

“Why don’t you tell? You wish me dead. That’s why you are not talking—tell me?”

“Go away. Why bother about how I was with him? Did he possess you like a ghost? Is it not enough that I am deeply in love with you?”

No words. I can hear the sound of wailing and gasping for breath. 

“Look. I will never raise this matter again but tell me one thing. Only the truth. What did he do in the first night room after marriage?”

“Dear? What will he do? Aren’t you aware? What will you do?”

“Me? My face, Am I that fortunate? So, tell me?”

“Why ask these questions now? I have forgotten about it.”

“You haven’t. Try remembering. Tell me the truth, don’t you dare lie to me [changing his tone]. Tell me this one thing. I will sleep. What did he do? Did you like it? Will you speak? In your house- in Kunchavaram- in the room towards the west side- were you able to recall?”

“There is nothing. What’s there? I stood up in embarrassment.”

“Do you know about it by then?”

“What?”

“Ugh. Don’t kill me. This- this whole thing.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t aware by then.”

“Ah, how is it possible that you weren’t aware?”

“How would I have known?”

“So then- pity, you who weren’t aware- alone.”

[laughing…]

“Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing”

“Nothing? Are you going to tell me or not?”

“What’s there? Alone- what about it? Once he became my husband….”

“Right, what did he do?”

“Alas? I don’t remember, I am sleepy?”

“Tell me, you have to, I won’t let you sleep tonight, until you tell me.”

“He came towards me, holding my hands…”

“No…No…that newness, that shyness, he enjoyed everything- After all that is gone, once it became routine- now- what remains after he relished everything? Is this my fate? I am a fool.”

“But I love you, right?”

“True, to love, all the other things, he taught you well. That looks, that laughter, you have learnt all these for him, and now you showering them on me. You compare my kisses with his. Those were first and new. You would have liked them better. Right?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Now you agree that it is true! Aha! Your love is only for him. In the dark, you think of him and get satisfied. Right?”

“Disgusting”

“I knew it”

“No dear”

“Shut your mouth, don’t speak! Some unchaste women will desire other men when their husbands are alive. You even like the men who are dead.”

“Trust me, I don’t even remember him. There is no one but you in my heart.”

“Is it true? Really? How do I believe you? Forgotten in three years? Lie! So, same thing if I die?”

“No!”

“No, what? Didn’t you love him too? Didn’t you marry me in the six months after his death? Isn’t it? If I die, then again—”

“Please stop, dear.”

“Why don’t you talk?”

“I don’t know. I am sleepy, please let me sleep.”

“That’s an excuse. Tell me first- do you really love me?” 

“Again, back to where we have begun?”

“Him- that Kumaraswamy”

“Please sleep-What’s this dear! Worrying about the same thing every night? Have you gone mad? Thanks to your friend who stayed here for three days. You were quiet when he was here. I was spared. You started the moment he left for the station.”

“You wish he stayed longer?”

“Ah!” [Perplexed]

“You have already laid your eyes on him.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“Sure, it seems you’ve decided on your next husband while I am alive.”

“You have gone mad.”

“Didn’t you prey on me when Kumaraswamy was alive? It’s the same thing now!”

“I won’t speak.”

“Why would you talk? Tell me the truth- haven’t you laid your eyes on him? I am aware of that. Like never before, he said he would come back on Tuesday. You crook-slut”

“Ugh, stop this- you lost your mind.”

“True, I am mad- You don’t have a heart. There is no sin in killing you. People like you don’t deserve to live- demoness. Were you looking for a new husband when your husband is alive? The second time. What else? Are you going to kill me? Why don’t you talk? Pity, did you murder that poor and innocent Kumaraswamy for me? You must have. A mighty harridan!”

She kept crying. 

“With every man- Ask me to leave instead of torturing me like this, I will leave!”

“Are you planning to leave? To him? Go, Go, Go away now.”

Sound of two smacks and wailing. They were about to open the door. I immediately got up from the bed, jumped over the small gate and fell onto the street. I ran to the railway station. 

This is how civilized, kind and respectable men behave with their wives. Chalapathy Rao speaks like a “wise man”. Shockingly, what horrific things could happen in those rooms! Like removing the coat and headgear when they enter the house, men also hang their manners, sense and respect to a hook. She is just a wife! These highly reputed men wear a disguise as if they are on a stage the whole day and get back to their true forms behind the curtains. Men who hold on to anger, jealousy and lust behave like dogs, monkeys, big tigers, and bears- especially towards those dependent on them, with their helpless wives and children. These men will be enraged if I say this. 

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This story was first published in Jvala, a Telugu monthly in 1934. It was reprinted in Ahvanam magazine in May 1993 on the occasion of Chalam’s birth and death anniversary which falls in the same month. 

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Gudipati Venkatachalam, popularly known as Chalam was an influential Telugu novelist, short story writer and essayist, famous for his literary works on women’s freedom and rights. His best-known works include Maidanam,Vivaham, and Ameena. The award-winning Telugu film Grahanam was based on his story Dosha Gunam

Chalam

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