BEAUTY
By Dr. C. Anandaramam
Translated by Nidadavolu Malathi
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It’s not impossible but rare to come across incidents that would bring tears and also an inexplicable
satisfaction. Niraja was astonished at herself. She was heart-broken and sobbing; and, amidst her
sobs, she noticed, much to her surprise, that she also felt a kind of indescribable satisfaction.
It’s hard for us to watch when somebody closest to us—somebody from whom we can’t bear to be
separated—were inflicted with an incurable disease and were suffering from excruciating pain day and
night. There’s no way we can take away their pain. Nor can we give them poison and kill them. However,
we do our damnedest and try any number of medications to save them. And after that person died, we
might suffer unbearable sadness yet also feel relief that’s innate in that sadness.
Niraja felt the same hurt that one would feel after something has happened which she didn’t want to
happen, could not make it happen on her own, and could not bear the thought of facing the pain after it
has happened. On that particular day, she was dressed up and stood in front of the mirror and felt that
something was missing. But she could not figure out what was missing and where her make up needed
improvement. She’s been known for her beauty ever since her childhood days. In addition, she came
from a family that could afford all the beauty accessories. The red crèpe sari added a glimmer to her fair
skin. The red stones in her necklace seemed to compete with her red sari on one hand and her pink
cheeks on the other and have lost the bet. Her curly hair was spread all over her forehead. The maroon
color dot on her fair-complexioned forehead appeared to challenge the viewers. The red bangles, red
sandals, and red earrings—the accessories would enhance her beauty. Niraja is aware of that also.
That’s why she pulled out her set of the red accessories that day.
Yet, what’s this? What’s it missing which she could not see in the full-length mirror in front of her? She
racked her brains but couldn’t figure it out. Now she understood after reading the letter Viswam wrote to
her. Now she realized the flaw that’s not a flaw.
Some instincts are bizarre. When we pick up a glass filled with water or milk, we get scared in case we
drop it. Sometimes that happens too. Then we get the feeling that we dropped it not by mistake but on
purpose. And then we start worrying that we could have avoiding dropping it if only we had been a little
more careful, if only we had been a little more attentive …
Niraja never expected to receive such letter from Viswam. After receiving it, however, she felt like she
knew this would happen. She was sad and bewildered. Maybe she was responsible for it! Did she
brought it on herself all by herself? The words she said to Yasodhara—did they show her at the height of
her dormant ego? Come to think of it, what was it she really felt towards Yasodhara—sympathy or
jealousy?
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Yasodhara was polishing Viswam’s shoes when Niraja walked in. She was surprised by this
unexpected visit of Niraja. She flinched like an honest person who was caught while doing something
mean. Niraja was equally surprised.
Niraja said, “Why are you polishing Viswam’s shoes? Isn’t there a servant to do that?”
Yasodhara did not reply. She sat there staring at the shoes and the brush. Niraja looked at her pitiful
face; and, her heart was filled with kindness. “Look, Yaso! Why do have to do these menial jobs. How
many times have I told you not to act like a stranger here? In this house you’re one of us. Don’t entertain
meaningless thoughts. Leave those shoes alone. I’ll make sure they’re polished.”
Yasodhara is light-skinned, not too dark. She’s moved by Niraja’s words and tears sprang in her eyes
which lost the glow due to her miseries in the past few years. She said, “I’m not doing this because
there’s nobody to do it, nor do I consider this a chore. I just felt like doing it. I find some pleasure in doing
it.”
Niraja, startled, stared at Yasodhara. It was not clearly stated but everybody knew that Viswam was going
to marry Niraja. Yasodhara also was aware of it. Yasodhara understood Niraja’s concern and said,
“Look, Niraja, I can’t lie to you. I know how fond you’re of me. I am even aware where I would have ended
if you had not helped me. That’s the reason I can’t lie to you. Actually, there’s no reason to lie either. I’m
not going to stand in your way in any manner. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. If I polish these shoes sitting in
this corner without anybody noticing it, how am I hurting anybody?”
Niraja wanted to snatch the shoes right away from Yasodhara’s hands. But she couldn’t do it. It’s not
only that. Niraja could never see straight into Yasodhara’s face and do anything that could cause her
pain. She was not that cruel, she cannot smash into that heart one more time, the heart that has been
crushed by fate so severely and so often. Niraja left the room. Some inexplicable weight filled her heart.
She couldn’t shake her feeling of kindness and sympathy for Yasodhara. Now one more feeling—a
feeling of distaste—was added to those sentiments.
²²²
Yasodhara lost her mother while she was still a child. Her father was self-centered and self-serving
egotist. He was concerned only with his own happiness. It never occurred to him that he was the father
of a girl and had a paternal responsibility towards that girl. He spent all his earnings on his own
pleasures. Yasodhara was very fond of her father even when he did not return the compliment. That
gracious man not only did noy care to arrange for her marriage but did not think of giving her education
either. Yasodhara’s education ended with whatever the grade school on her street could give. Then her
father died. At the age of twenty-five, Yasodhara became a single woman without family, with no
measurable looks, no property worth mentioning, and no education.
Among the relatives who came to visit Yashodhara after her father’s death, Sundaramma was the one
with a brilliant idea. She was quite rich and has a house full of domestic help. Yet she could use one
more person to take care of the chores at home. There’s always something to do and she was having a
hard time juggling between housework, women’s organizations, public speeches etc. She would have a
moment to breathe if a young woman like Yasodhara stayed at her place and took care of the
housework. Additionally, she would be credited with a large heart for providing a home for that girl.
Where’s the guarantee that she would have a better opportunity anywhere else? I’m not asking her to
move boulders, Sundaramma convinced herself, she was not going to drive her like a slave, like
Suryakantam in the movies.
For the sake of formality, Sundaramma asked her husband. “Yes,” he replied as always. Yasodhara was
elated at the suggestion, was overwhelmed as if the Lady Luck threw a garland in her neck and followed
them. But then, Sundaramma’s darling daughter, Niraja did not let the things move smoothly as
planned. She questioned her mother’s lack of foresight. “This is all very nice, mom. For a while she
would be very helpful to you. That’s true. Then what? What are you going to do after that?” she asked her
mother.
Sundaramma did not think about “after that.” She was surprised and said calmly, “What then what? It’s
going to be the same,” she said.
“What do you mean the same? Will you arrange for her marriage? If that’s the case, you might as well do
it now. She is of marriageable age. If you’re willing to pay ten to twenty thousand rupees as dowry …”
“Shut up,” Sundaramma yelled. Her heart started thumping fast.
“If you are not ready to arrange for her marriage, send her to school. She’ll have a leg to stand on.”
“That’s cute. You shut up. That's none of your business.”
“What’d you mean none of my business? She and I are of the same age. Are you suggesting that I sit
and watch while her life is being burnt down to ashes?”
“How can we save all the people in the world?”
“I don’t know about all the people. I can not allow it to happen to the one person in my presence.”
That’s it. Niraja doesn’t worry about things in general. Her world is limited to her school, the beauty
accessories, and her pursuits of per pleasures. She’s never concerned unless and until something falls
within the purview of her own experience. And when that happens, she rises like a tornado.
Yasodhara passed the Matriculation exam. She, being a 25-year old woman, was embarrassed to
attend pre-degree classes, while the 17-year old Niraja was studying for her bachelor’s degree. Niraja
talked some sense into her. She said kindly, “My mother’s not going to pay huge some in dowry and
arrange for your marriage. Nobody is going to come forward to marry you or me without shelling down a
huge sum as dowry. What’re you going to do if not go to school?” Yasodhara was touched by the phrase,
“you or me.” Yasodhara was taken by the cordiality in that phrase, the fact that Niraja included herself in
the equation was overwhelming. Niraja is a doll, the beloved child of a wealthy family. Any young man
would consider himself blessed if Niraja accepted his proposal; Yasodhara couldn’t even imagine any
young man rejecting Niraja’s hand in marriage?
Although Yasodhara attended classes regularly, she spent most of her time doing chores at
Sundaramma’s house. Niraja tried to stop but Yasodhara would not listen. For that reason,
Sundaramma continued to be fond of her.
Niraja’s parents never imagined Viswam as their son-in-law. Even if he came forward to marry Niraja,
they were not prepared to accept his proposal. Viswam was handsome and has a steady job as
assistant engineer, also comes from a respectable family, related to them through some distant
relationship. But, there were several rumors floating in the air regarding his carefree life. That’s why
Sundaramma was not thrilled but was worried when she got a letter stating that Viswam was a frequent
visitor at their house. She wrote to her daughter at once, describing Viswam’s diversions, magnified ten
times, and warned her daughter to watch out.
The contents of the letter, the rumors and warnings, instead of putting fears in her heart, triggered a
strange curiosity. Niraja who usually could not care less about anything, is now waiting anxiously for
Viswam to appear. As soon as she saw him, her eyes were dazzled. What a beauty! Wherever had I
seen such a stunning beauty! She had seen so many men, taller and with better physique, with better
complexion, better contour but … What is that something, a fleck of beauty that is so strongly visible in
him and in nobody else? Until now, Niraja thought, based on the story she’s heard so far, that Viswam
would follow her and would try to get her attention by approaching her over and again. Unaware, she
paid extra care to her own make up. But Viswam exchanged with her only civilities politely and kept quiet.
After that, he never talked to her again.
Niraja was disappointed. She waited for him, literally holding her breath, to come and talk to her. On the
top of it, she noticed that Yasodhara was talking to him and laughing frequently. She was incensed. For
the first time she yelled at Yasodhara. She said, “Why do you talk to him and laugh?”
“Did I talk and laugh too? Could I laugh happily?” Yasodhara’s pale eyes flickered for a split second.
Niraja noticed that and was surprised. “Yaso! Do you know that Viswam is not a good person?”
“I don’t know and I am not interested either. What do I care what kind of person he is? Nobody can ruin
my life. I’m not that attractive that somebody could go to that length and ruin my life.”
Niraja couldn’t think of anything to say to Yasodhara after that. She couldn’t make sense of the jealous
feelings that were tormenting her heart either. On the same day, she went to Viswam on her own.
Viswam looked up and into her eyes. Niraja noticed a wave of admiration in his eyes clearly and her
heart was filled with satisfaction.
“If it were a foreign country, I could easily say You’re very beautiful. In our country, people still consider it
bad manners. Therefore I can’t say the words I wanted to say as soon as I saw you,” Viswam said,
admiringly.
Niraja was impressed for the way he put it. “Is that the reason you didn’t come and talk to me? You’re
hiding for three days now?”
“Right, I’m hiding. I’m scared of your beauty. I’m not a good person. It’s better I don’t come close to you.”
Niraja was confused. Is there a man in this world who could admit his weaknesses so openly? She
looked into his face and broke into a laugh. All her fears and apprehensions flew away with that laugh.
After that they became close friends. All the efforts on the part of her parents to stop of her failed.
It was just not his beauty but his language, mischief, and witticisms swept her away into another world.
In that enthralling music, Yasodhara’s eager chitchat with him struck a discord. Viswam also turns to
Yasodhara as soon as he hears her voice and responds affectionately—that’s annoying to Niraja.
On the day in question, Niraja was very upset after Yasodhara’s candid response to her comment about
polishing Viswam’s shoes. She couldn’t bear the thought—Viswam talking to Yasodhara—after she
clearly understood Yasodhara’s mode of thinking. Yasodhara couldn’t compete with her on any level.
She has no chance in Niraja’s presence. No idiot could reject Niraja and take Yasodhara instead.
But … but … the thing that’s chewing her up is the amicable resonance in Viswam’s eyes as soon as he
hears Yasodhara’s voice. That’s not love, not a desire, and not even admiration. Just a touch of cordiality.
That’s all. She knew that that was all, yet her heart wouldn’t accept it.
“Yaso! Why are you anxious to talk to Viswam? Do you think he will marry you?” Niraja asked Yasodhara.
“Viswam garu? Me? Marry?” Yasodhara looked at herself and laughed mockingly. Niraja wished that she
did not laugh like that. She can’t take such laugh.
“But then …” Niraja did not finish the sentence.
“The pleasure I experience when I hear his voice, I can’t let go of it.”
“But you’re aware of the stories about him….” Niraja could not finish the line. She was disgusted with
herself, knowing where she was going with this.
“I wish those stories were true. I’d consider myself lucky if he takes me even momentarily, carried away
by his desire. He does not have to marry me or love me. I can live like a slave for the rest of my life if he
treats me kindly just once.” Yasodhara was totally lost in a fit of blind admiration.
Niraja kept thinking about Yasodhara’s words and her heart was choked with pity. But, more than pity,
she was consumed by jealousy. “I don’t like the way you chat with Yasodhara,” she told Viswam straight.
Viswam was stunned.
“With Yasodhara? … Are you insane? I just like her …”
Niraja stopped him with a touch of irritation. “I know all that jazz. Still I don’t like you to talk with her. If you
talk with her, I’ll stop talking to you.”
“Oh, no. Not that big a penalty. I’m the lowest of the lowof your slaves. I can never cross your wish, never
defy your orders.”
Niraja laughed. After that, any time Yasodhara tried to chat with Viswam, Niraja was always present.
Without Niraja batting an eye, Viswam was aware that every particle in her body was watching him. He
could not respond to Yasodhara kindly as was his habit. Yasodhara felt let down, wanted to say
something but did not. Viswam turned away, frustrated.
Yasodhara was perplexed. The confusion in her eyes was like that of a child who did not understand why
her mother would hit her when she did not do anything wrong. Niraja’s heart writhed. She left the room in
a hurry. Viswam followed her. “Niraja! Are you angry with me? Tell me what do you want me to do? I did
not talk to her, you saw that. Even when I don’t talk to her, she’s talking to me. I can’t stand it if you’re
upset with me. I admit it myself, I’m a weakling. I’m telling you the truth. I love you. I can’t do anything
against your wishes.”
Niraja broke into a fit of sobs, couldn’t explain why. That confused Viswam even more. “Please, don’t cry,
Niraja. I swear, I’ll not even see her face again.”
Niraja threw up her head in a jerk. “Did I say you can’t see Yasodhara’s face? You do as you please.
What do I care?” she said and left, annoyed.
On another occasion, Yasodhara brought coffee for Viswam. He did not take it from her hand. Then she
put the cup on the table next to him. Viswam, without even looking at her, asked the cook to bring him
another cup of coffee, drank and left.
Yasodhara threw herself down at Niraja’s feet and cried her heart out, “What did I do wrong? What’s it I
asked for? Am I not good enough even to serve a cup of coffee like a domestic servant?”
Her words sounded like the screams of a bird hit by an arrow and Niraja was shaken by them. She also
noticed that Viswam was about to leave quickly, turned around and watched Yasodhara hesitantly for a
second and then left.
“Why bother, Yaso? You just be happy. Somebody else will bring coffee for him,” Niraja tried to console
her.
“No, I’ll bring it myself. He may not drink it, may leave it on the table, but he’s sure to understand how
anxious I was to bring it to him.”
Niraja opened a book and pretended to read it but she was weighed down by some heavy feeling in her
heart. She was surprised to see Yasodhara humming a tune. “Can you sing?” she asked.
“I didn’t know what I could do and what I couldn’t until today. I just started learning about them one by
one.” Her eyes glistened.
“You’re happy today!” Niraja said again.
“Yes, I’m very happy today. Today Viswam garu ate the tiffin I gave him. He even said it was good,”
Yasodhara said.
Niraja felt a jab at some innermost corners of her heart.
“Niraja!” Yasodhara called her and stopped.
“What?”
Yasodhara was hesitant as if she wanted to ask but couldn’t. After a few seconds she picked up courage
and asked, “Will you let me wear your blue silk saree today?”
Niraja was shocked, couldn’t believe her own ears. In the past Niraja told her several times to wear her
sarees but Yasodhara did not take her up on her offer. She replied, “What does it matter what kind of
sarees I wear?”
Now Niraja has no way of saying no and so said, “Okay.” Viswam would be coming to the party that
evening. That’s the reason for Yasodhara’s interest in the light blue saree. Viswam accepted tiffin from
Yasodhara when she was not around and even complimented her. Niraja was disheartened, Hum, men!
I won’t talk to him. Oh, no! How can I live without talking to him? I can’t even imagine the life without him.
That day she stood in front of the mirror and was determined to look her best. The more she looked at
her image in the mirror the more she was convinced that there was something missing but wasn’t sure
what it was. Yasodhara came into the room wearing an ordinary white saree.
“Why didn’t you wear my blue silk saree?”
“I did. But for some reason the saree on my body looked like it was making fun of me. I changed into this.
I must be stupid to think that I could improve my beauty by wearing beautiful sarees,” Yasodhara
laughed. She watched Niraja admiringly and said, “Niraja, you’re so beautiful. But it’s alright. I’ll stand by
your side to ward off the evil eye .”
Niraja did not reply. At the party, guests were watching Niraja with great admiration. There was no end to
Viswam’s adoration for Niraja. She was overwhelmed but also suffered a stab in her guts as she heard
Yasodhara’s candid laughter. …
Suddenly there was an uproar. Neither Yasodhara nor Viswam were nowhere to be found. Sundaramma
opened her mouth freely, “I knew all along he’s this kind. I even warned you at the very beginning. Let it
be. At least we’ve come to know his true color before the damage is done. But how come she couldn’t
see that? What would she do if he walks out on her after a few days? Well, it’s her fate, I suppose.”
Not one of the words reached Niraja’s ears. Viswam left her and went away with Yasodhara. She could
not believe that fact. Her eyes fell on the letter on the table. Viswam wrote it.
“Niraja, my beautiful queen!
“I know it sounds ridiculous if I tell you that I loved you very much and am still in love with you. I am a little
man, Niraja! I don’t deserve your love. I don’t love Yasodhara, I’m not even attracted to her. But some
inexplicable power is pulling me in that direction.
“I’m weak. Although I rejected Yasodhara while you were present fearing that I might lose you, still I’m
pulled toward her. Last night I saw you and Yasodhara side by side—you like a goddess and she like a
personification of sadness. I can’t explain why but I was scared to think of you as my wife. I was scared
that I might crush your delicate, flower-like life with my weaknesses. So, I decided to marry Yasodhara,
hoping she would accept all my weaknesses and be my dutiful wife. Yasodhara can never get a better
life than what I’m offering. Therefore, I don’t have to feel bad that I was cheating her. I can’t walk into your
life—the life that will be and can the pinnacle of happiness. Wish you the best of luck.
–Viswam.”
Niraja read the letter over and over again and suddenly she realized the mistake in her make up. The
flaw was not in the external accessories she had put on. At the party, standing next to Yasodhara, she
wanted to prove to the world her superior looks and that desire clouded the expression on her face. In
her anxiety to show to Yasodhara how much Viswam admired her she shot cruelty through her eyes and
that scared Viswam.
In the past, Niraja had deliberated on the meaning of beauty on numerous occasions. So many times
she debated with herself about the basis of beauty—it’s often described as Satyam, Sivam, and
Sundaram Now it started coming to her vaguely—the constantly growing glow in Viswam, his candor,
his magnetism, andhis amicability. And the quality in the very ordinary Yasodhara was her deep sense of
devotion —a quality that could turn a clay statue into extraordinary power—that’s what captured Viswam
and dragged him toward her; the strength of her determination which could evoke and turn the nirguna
into saguna.
Niraja stood in front of the mirror with disheveled hair, crumpled saree, worn out face and swollen eyes.
She asked herself, “Am I beautiful?” She looked at a configuration of the beauty that was filled with
satisfaction at the thought that the life of the ill-fated Yasodhara has taken a turn for the better finally.
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(The Telugu original, “andam” was published in Kathamandaaram, v.2. compiled by Avula
Jayapradadevi. Hyderabad: Andhra Pradesh Sahitya Academy, 1979.)