Story 12: An Unwelcome Gift

This is the last story of 2018 I wrote for the 12 Short Stories site. After trying different ideas on for size, this one popped up out of nowhere...let me know what you thought of it...

Rajaram strolled through the fair, watching the hawkers market their wares. The huge playground that wore a desolate look on normal days had come to life for this annual event in the tiny village of Gopalpur. Women haggled with the vendors over trinkets. Men stood cheering around the wrestling ring where two sturdy youngsters battled it out. The village kids crowded near the play area, awaiting their turn on the merry-go-round.

Rajaram’s wife Meena was busy looking at necklaces inside a tent, so he had wandered out for a while after giving her enough money to buy what she liked. An old man sitting outside the nearby tea shop beckoned to Rajaram, and he went closer.

“There’s something special about you. Show me your hand,” the old man demanded, and before Rajaram could react, he grabbed his right hand and began studying the palm.

“Yes, you definitely are the right person,” he said. He pulled out a small ring from a bag on his shoulder and slipped it on to Rajaram’s middle finger.

“There, see how nice it looks on you? It will bring you good luck.”

Rajaram hastily snatched his hand back and tried to remove the ring, but it stayed put. As he twisted it first right and then left, he had a sudden vision of the old man sitting alone in a lonely cave high in the mountains.

“What did you see?” asked the old man

Rajaram told him, and the old man broke out into a grin, nodding his head.

“Ok! So, that’s how my future is going to be. I wanted to know, but the ring doesn’t forecast the wearer’s future, so I had to force the answer from you. Keep the ring, and use it to help others. God bless you!”

Rajaram’s wife Meena came up just then, excited about the necklace she had bought. When he turned back after speaking to her, the old man had disappeared. Had he imagined it all, Rajaram wondered, but then, his gaze dropped to his hand, and the ring glinted back at him, catching the rays of the setting sun.

“Nice ring! I didn’t know you were fond of jewellery, too!” Meena teased.

Avoiding her eyes, Rajaram pulled off the ring and dunked it into his shirt pocket, not sure of what to do with it. He could have thrown it somewhere, but something about the old man’s eyes had told him he must value the gift. After roaming around for a while, Rajaram and Meena made their way back home where a hot meal cooked by Rajaram’s mother Ambabai awaited them.

3 months later

A small crowd sat patiently outside Rajaram’s house, waiting for an audience with him. Snatches of conversation floated up to Ambabai as she rested on the charpoy in the newly built room on the top floor of the house.

“You know, Raju said he found his calf in the exact place that Rajaram ji said it would be found.”

“I want to grow sesame in my fields this year, so I’ve come to ask Rajaram ji if it’s a good idea.”

“He’s so young, and yet, so wise! No wonder the full village comes to consult him.”

“Yes, I don’t know what magic he does, but he predicts exactly what will happen. You know how Sonu was worried about his daughter’s drunkard husband, but then, Rajaram ji said he would turn over a new leaf in a month, and that’s exactly what happened!”

Ambabai frowned, remembering the haggard look her son bore nowadays. His job as a clerk in the local government office wasn’t too taxing, but all this advice-giving after office hours was taking its toll. Poor Meena was not too happy either – now Rajaram had no time to take her out to the temple, or to visit their relatives in the nearby villages.

Ambabai also fretted over the fact that Meena wasn’t yet pregnant even a full 6 months after marriage. People would start talking, and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

6 months later
“Rajaram!”

“What happened, Ma?”

“See this girl here?” Ambabai pointed to Meena who had also come into the room.

“Why are you crying, Meena?”

Before Meena could answer, her mother-in-law did.

“Why are you crying, Meena?” she mimicked Rajaram. “Do you know how our neighbours poke fun at her?”

“Why? What has she done?”

“It’s what she hasn’t done that makes them talk. Do you realize it’s almost a year since you got married, Rajaram? And there’s been no ‘good news’ from our house yet!”

Rajaram stole a look at his young wife’s face. Her head was bent, and her gaze was fixed somewhere near his feet, but he could see the tears coursing down her cheeks. A teardrop clung to her delicate jaw for one desperate second, before falling onto her saree.

“Those people have nothing better to do,” said Rajaram through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you use your famous powers on your wife, Rajaram? Maybe then we’ll know when she’s going to have a baby? You do so much for the whole world, why don’t you throw a few crumbs of your attention to Meena, too?”

“That will not be necessary. Just wait for a little while, Ma. Everything will be alright, you’ll see,” mumbled Rajaram, turning away from his wife and mother, the fingers of his right hand desperately tracing the pattern of the window grill.

A few days later, Rajaram came home early from work. He rushed into the kitchen where Meena and Ambabai were preparing the evening meal. Thrusting a letter under their nose, he announced, “This came today. I’ve been transferred from Gopalpur to Ashta, and have to report at the new office on Monday.”

“Oh, that’s very sudden,” said Ambabai.

“No, actually I was expecting it from the last two months, but didn’t want to say anything till I received the official order. Anyway, we’ve not got much time, so start packing all your clothes and valuables. ”

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. Rajaram, Meena and Ambabai bid goodbye to their relatives and neighbours – even the pesky ones – and climbed into the taxi that was to take them to Ashta. As they drove out of Gopalpur, Rajaram asked the driver to stop at the village deity’s temple, and the three of them went in to offer their prayers before the long journey ahead.

Telling Meena and Ambabai to go back to the car, Rajaram paused for a while on the bank of the stream running by the side of the temple. Closing his eyes and emptying his mind of all thoughts, he twisted the ring off his middle finger, and hurled it into the stream. Catching the rays of the morning sun, it glinted for one last time before disappearing in the flowing water.

As Rajaram got into the taxi, Meena noticed the pale band of skin on his middle finger.

“Oh, where’s your ring? Did you leave it at home? Shall we go back to bring it?” she asked.

Smiling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Rajaram shook his head. “I don’t want that ring anymore. I never really liked jewellery.”