The ENIGMATIC**

By keertipriya

(**Winner of second prize in short story competition held by Andhra Bhasha Samiti, Andhra University, Waltair, India)

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Translated by Nidadavolu Malathi

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Most of the people see cash only on that one day for the entire month. That’s the only day most people enjoy peace of mind—that is the first of each month. For many people that day is a special holiday.

Prakasam took his salary and headed home. His thoughts were rising high like waves in the ocean. A voice in his head was reminding him of his duty again and again. His heart was brimming with gratitude toward that one stranger. He was reminiscing in his head an incident that occurred three days.

His baby girl fell sick with fever and cough. At first he neglected it hoping it would go away. There was no sign of his baby getting better. It would cost him at least 15 rupees to take her to a doctor. Had he had that much cash on hand, baby would not have fallen sick in the first place. He was in a fix. The grocery store owner made it very clear that he would not give him rice and other items unless Prakasam settled the old debt. He even suggested that Prakasam should find another store and open a new account. Prakasam’s mother has been suffering from poor health for a long time and he was in no position to take care of her needs. He could not afford the medications she needed. At the moment however he was anxious to take care of his little baby. Or else, she could take a turn for the worse.

Three days back, Prakasam went into town. All his friends were school teachers. They were in no position to lend money; in fact, they would borrow if they could find a person willing to lend money. Yet Prakasam could not sit at home doing nothing. He went out and asked whoever he came across and asked them. He confronted those who were sure to say ‘no’ if he asked them at home; he asked them on the street. But there was no use. He couldn’t make them stand there watch them struggling for long. It was just as hard for them to say ‘no’ without feeling embarrassed; their faces spoke of their helplessness as he cornered them. He turned around and started walking towards his home. His feet were dragging heavily. He was perplexed, couldn’t think straight.

He approached the park. The lights on the street were lit up for a while now. He noticed one or two persons pass him occasionally.The park was dark though since the lights were not on. Suddenly he felt something under his foot. He walked two more steps and then it occurred to him—that that thing could not be a stone; it felt soft. He went back and picked it up. That was not a stone but a wallet. He was stunned. His heart stopped beating for a second. All his thoughts came to a standstill. He put the wallet in his pocket and started walking in a hurry. He wanted to pick it up and check how much cash was there in it. There was nobody around yet he did not have the courage to do so. He kept his pace with his heartbeat. In the past, he had dreamed a few times about finding a wallet filled with money. He also has read several stories about money found like that. But he never believed that such things could really happen.

It’s not like Prakasam ever wondered about the existence of god. But, now, he believed firmly that god DID exist. Any number of people could have walked down that street. But only he found the wallet in time of need. That was a strong proof for him that god existed. He kept walking with renewed vigor while pondering over the incident. Each time he came under a streetlight he put his hand in his pocket rather involuntarily and pulled it out. A couple of times he even felt his pocket to make sure that the wallet was there.

He reached home. Prakasam’s brother sat on the porch staring into the dark. He was doing that for the past two years, each day at the same time. It was two years since he finished his high school education. He has been trying for over two years now to become an employee, to be able to tell everybody that he has a job. It has become his daily ritual—go out in the morning in search of a job, return home in the evening with a disappointed look on his face, and sit on the porch and stare into the darkness on the street. The bulb on the lamp post was burnt.

Until sometime back, Prakasam did the same—sitting on the porch and staring into the dark. He sat there and stared into the dark on several occasions. His father died while he was studying pre-degree course; He had to shoulder the responsibility of the entire family. Out of necessity, he quit school and went in search of a job. On all those occasions, he sat there in the same manner as his brother now.

Prakasam has two children. The older boy was lying on grandmother’s stretched out legs. Baby girl was lying on bed with fever. He walked into the room and said, “One of my friends promised me to loan some money tomorrow.” He was hoping that the wallet might contain some money. He didn’t want to tell right away that he found a wallet.

“Come in for supper,” his wife said.

“Where did you get the rice from?”

“Borrowed from Kamakshamma,” his mother replied.

Prakasam stood near the baby’s bed on his way to eat supper and felt her forehead. Baby was running high temperature.

“Her temperature is not going down. We must get a doctor tomorrow at least, or else,” mother said.

He sat down to eat. His wife suggested, “Pawn my bangles tomorrow and get the money.”

“We’ll see. As I said, my friend might help us out tomorrow,” he replied and felt the wallet in his pocket without his wife watching him. It was right there where he put it. After supper was finished, his mother, brother and the boy went to sleep in the hallway near the kitchen. His wife sat next to the baby’s bed and fell asleep with her hand on the baby. The entire house was quiet.

Prakasam sat on his cot and turned up the lantern wick which was sitting in the pigeonhole in the wall. He pulled out the wallet from his pocket. He was bubbling with excitement. His heart was pounding fast. Thoughts in his head were flying high. He was building castles in the air in leaps and bounds. He opened the wallet. There was one ten rupee bill—could cover doctor’s fee and medications; one five rupee bill—would help to pay the grocery bill partly at the least; one rupee—this would not suffice to pay the other bills but might come in handy. What else is there in the wallet? He shook the wallet, holding it upside down. Two small coins fell on the floor. “I could give it to my boy when he asks for money,” he told himself.

Now Prakasam is not seeing bills of hundreds and tens. All he has is sixteen rupees and small change. He would have nothing on hand after all his debts were cleared. In fact, he will have a few more debts after some debts are cleared. Now, the castles he built in the air are not beautiful mansions but ordinary run-down houses.

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He searched the wallet again and found a photograph. Hum. I didn’t see this until now. Looks familiar! Wherever could I have seen him? In the park? Or, on the main street? When? In the evening? Or, morning on my way to work? Prakasam remembered seeing him on his way to work at the busstop at the junction. He was sure the wallet belonged to that man and decided to return it to him. But, not now. I can return it after I received my salary. I could not find anybody to loan money to me today, where is the guarantee I will have it tomorrow?…He was confounded with questions. Where is the rule that we should return the money we found? I am only thinking of returning because I knew him …

Prakasam shut the wallet and put it under his pillow. He got up, changed his clothes, came back and sat down on the cot. Anyways, how could I return the wallet to him? I don’t know where he lives. Maybe I can return it to him on my way to work!

Baby moved as a cough shook her. Prakasam turned down the lantern wick and went to sleep. He noticed that his wife woke up.

The next day, Prakasam fetched the doctor to look at the baby and bought the necessary medications. Paid part of the bill at the grocery store. He gave the small change to the boy without the boy asking for any. Eventually baby recovered from fever. Now there is no threat of losing her. Prakasam was sure she would get up, laugh and play as usual.

It was this incident from three days back that was bustling through his head, while he was returning from work. His heart was reciting over and again his gratitude to the person who lost his wallet. Prakasam did not forget his responsibility.

Suddenly he heard somebody addressing him from behind. He turned around with a jerk. “Prakasam garu did not notice me,” the person said. He, Venkatrao, was his colleague at work. Usually, Prakasam does not initiate chitchat with anybody. If someone addressed him directly, he would get into a chitchat though.

“So, what is it? You seem to be lost in thought,” Venkatrao said.

Prakasam did not consider finding a wallet something to be guarded as a secret. So he told Venkatrao the story and added, “I see him everyday at the junction near my house. I didn’t see him yesterday though. I don’t know his address either to return the wallet.”

“Do you still have it with you?”

“Yes,” he replied and pulled it out from his pocket.

Venkatrao looked at the photograph and stood without flinching. He kept staring at the photo. He couldn’t speak.

“What? You know him?”

“Yes. He is renting a portion in the same building we live. His little baby got sick a few days back. He borrowed money from somebody and on his way home lost the wallet. He came to me, begging for money. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any on me either at the time. When baby’s condition became worse, he pawned his wife’s bangles, got the money, and brought a doctor to check up on the baby. But it was already too late. The baby died. It happened yesterday.”

Prakasam was dumbstruck. He did not know what to do under such circumstances. A huge wave of pain rose from the inmost corners of his heart and gushed forth. He tried to control the hurt that surged like a river shattering the dam. He could not explain the pain he was feeling in his guts.

“Don’t you beat yourself up. How would you know the conditions at his house? You used the money because of the problems you had. It was not your fault.” They both arrived at the corner where they were to go their separate ways.

Venkatrao said, “Don’t try to return the wallet or money to him. He was very fond of his baby.”

Prakasam could not help thinking. His baby recovered from fever. The same fever took the life of that person’s baby, carried her away into another world. The same money saved his own baby. To save my baby, his baby had to sacrifice her life!

The more he thought about it, the more Prakasam was losing his mind. He felt his body boiling, there was no end to his perplexing thoughts that were curling up like a labyrinth. In that moment, one thousand moons could not have cooled down the temperature he was feeling in his head.

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(The Telugu original, “viparyayamu” was published in Prajamatha, December 26, 1954. Author’s permission is gratefully acknowledged.)