Looking Back : Autobiography of Maharshi Karve

MAHARSHI KARVE
His Life Story in His Own Words

LOOKING BACK By DK KARVE (1936)

The Autobiography of Bharat Ratna Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve

(Book Review by Vikram Waman Karve)

Today 18 April 2016 is the 158^th Birth Anniversary of Bharat Ratna Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve (18.04.1858 - 09.11.1962).

I felt that, on this occasion, it would be apt to tell you about his life and work as written by him in his autobiography titled LOOKING BACK published in 1936.

Dear Reader, you must be wondering why I am reviewing an autobiography written in 1936.

Well, sometime back, for six years of my life, I stayed in a magnificent building called Empress Court on Maharshi Karve Road at Churchgate in Mumbai.

I share the same surname ( Karve ) as the author.

Also, I happen to be the great grandson of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve. 

But, beyond that, compared to him I am a nobody – not even a pygmy.

 

Maharshi Karve clearly knew his goal, persisted ceaselessly throughout his life with missionary zeal and transformed the destiny of the Indian Woman.

The first university for women in India, SNDT University, and educational institutions for women under the aegis of the Hingne Stree Shikshan Samstha Poona, later renamed Maharshi Karve Stree Shikshan Samstha (MKSSS) Pune, covering the entire spectrum ranging from pre-primary schools to post-graduate, engineering, vocational and professional colleges bear eloquent testimony to his indomitable spirit, untiring perseverance and determined efforts.

 

In his preface, Frederick J Gould, renowned rationalist and lecturer on Ethics, writes that “the narrative is a parable of his career” – a most apt description of the autobiography. The author tells his life-story in a simple straightforward manner, with remarkable candour and humility; resulting in a narrative which is friendly, interesting and readable.

 

Autobiographies are sometimes voluminous tomes, but this a small book, 200 pages, and a very easy comfortable enjoyable read that makes it almost unputdownable.

Dr. Dhondo Keshav Karve writes a crisp, flowing narrative of his life, interspersed with his views and anecdotes, in simple, straightforward style which facilitates the reader to visualize through the author’s eyes the places, period, people and events pertaining to his life and times and the trials and tribulations he faced and struggled to conquer.

 

Dr. Dhondo Keshav Karve was born on 18th of April 1858. In the first few chapters he writes about Murud, his native place in Konkan, Maharashtra, his ancestry and his early life– the description is so vivid that you can clearly “see” through the author’s eye.

 

His struggle to appear in the public service examination (walking 110 miles in torrential rain and difficult terrain to Satara) and his shattering disappointment at not being allowed to appear for the examination (because “he looked too young”) make poignant reading.

 

“Many undreamt of things have happened in my life and given a different turn to my career” he writes, and then goes on to describe his high school and, later, college education at The Wilson College Bombay (Mumbai) narrating various incidents that convinced him of the role of destiny and serendipity in shaping his life and career as a teacher and then Professor of Mathematics.

 

He married at the age of fourteen but began his marital life at the age of twenty! 

This was the custom of those days. 

Let’s read the author’s own words on his domestic life:

 “… I was married at the age of fourteen and my wife was then eight. Her family lived very near to ours and we knew each other very well and had often played together. However after marriage we had to forget our old relation as playmates and to behave as strangers, often looking toward each other but never standing together to exchange words ... We had to communicate with each other through my sister ... My marital life began under the parental roof at Murud when I was twenty …” 

Their domestic bliss was short lived as his wife died after a few years leaving behind a son.

“Thus ended the first part of my domestic life”… he concludes in crisp witty style.

 

An incident highlighting the plight of a widow left an indelible impression on him and germinated in him the idea of widow remarriage.

He married Godubai, who was widowed when she was only eight years old, was a sister of his friend Mr. Joshi, and now twenty three was studying at Pandita Ramabai’s Sharada Sadan as its first widow student.

 

Let’s read in the author’s own words how he asked for her hand in marriage to her father – “I told him…..I had made up my mind to marry a widow. He sat silent for a minute and then hinted that there was no need to go in search of such a bride”.

 

He describes in detail the ostracism he faced from some orthodox quarters and systematically enunciates his life work - his organization of the Widow Marriage Association, Hindu Widows Home, Mahila Vidyalaya, Nishkama Karma Math, and other institutions, culminating in the birth of the first Indian Women’s University (SNDT University).

 

The trials and tribulations he faced in his life-work of emancipation of education of women (widows in particular) and how he overcame them by his persistent steadfast endeavours and indomitable spirit makes illuminating reading and underlines the fact that Dr. DK Karve was no arm-chair social reformer but a person devoted to achieve his dreams on the ground in reality.

 

These chapters form the meat of the book and make compelling reading. 

His dedication and meticulousness is evident in the appendices where he has given date-wise details of his engagements and subscriptions down to the paisa for his educational institutions from various places he visited around the world to propagate their cause.

 

He then describes his world tour, at the ripe age of 71, to meet eminent educationists to propagate the cause of the Women’s University, his later domestic life and ends with a few of his views and ideas for posterity. 

At the end of the book, concluding his autobiography, he writes:

“Here ends the story of my life. I hope this simple story will serve some useful purpose”.

 

Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve wrote this book in 1936. 

He lived on till the 9th of November 1962, achieving so much more on the way, and was conferred the honorary degree of Doctor of Letters ( D.Litt.) by the famous and prestigious Banaras Hindu University (BHU) Varanasi in 1942, followed by University of Poona [Pune] in 1951, SNDT Women’s University in 1955, and the LL.D. by Bombay [Mumbai] University in 1957.

 

Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve received the Padma Vibhushan in 1955 and the India’s highest honour the “Bharat Ratna” in 1958, a fitting tribute on his centenary at the glorious age of 100.

 

It is an engrossing and illuminating autobiography, written in simple witty readable storytelling style, and it clearly brings out the mammoth contribution of Maharshi Karve and the trials and tribulations he faced.

 

Epilogue

 

I was born in September 1956, and I have fleeting memories of my great grandfather Maharshi Karve, when I was a small boy, during our visits, till 1962, to Hingne Stree Shikshan Samstha (now called Maharshi Karve Stree Shikshan Samstha).

My mother tells me that I featured in a Films Division Documentary on him during his centenary celebrations in 1958.

Here is a picture of me with my great grandfather Maharshi Karve taken in the year 1958.

Vikram Waman Karve with Maharshi Karve (1958)

It is from some old timers, a few relatives, and mainly from books, that I learn of his pioneering work in transforming the destiny of the Indian Woman and I thought I should share this.

 

I have written this book review with the hope that some of us, particularly the students and alumni of SNDT University, Cummins College of Engineering for Women, SOFT, Karve Institute of Social Sciences and other educational institutions who owe their very genesis and existence to Maharshi Karve, are motivated to read about his stellar pioneering work and draw inspiration from his autobiography.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Gender Ambiguity : Yin-Yang Imbalance

Here is a blog post on the occasion of April Fool’s Day aka All Fools’ Day...

Have a Laugh – and then – Think about it...

GENDER AMBIGUITY – YIN-YANG IMBALANCE

April Fool Musings

By

VIKRAM KARVE

In modern urban India – at least in modern metropolitan cities of India – I am observing an amusing cultural metamorphosis taking place.

The thrust in professional education for women has done wonders – and opened up increasing opportunities for young women.

Almost all young urban women work – and – they take their careers seriously.

There are hardly any full-time housewives or “homemakers” these days. 

Women are achieving financial independence – and – women are no longer dependent on their “breadwinner” husbands. 

As women work shoulder-to-shoulder with men – modern women are developing masculine traits.

Yes – in order to achieve gender equality – especially at the workplace – women can no longer act in the quintessential delicate feminine manner of yesteryear India.

In order to succeed in their careers and to break the glass ceiling – women have to become more “masculine” in nature – and this transformation is visible in their personality.

“She-Women” are becoming “He-Women”.

However – a corresponding reverse transformation is not taking place among men.

Men are not developing feminine traits.

“He-Men” are not becoming “She-Men”.

Earlier – we had “She-Women” and “He-Men”.

Now – we have “He-Women” and “He-Men”.

This metamorphosis is disturbing the “gender equilibrium” in society.

You must have heard of Yin-Yang Balance.

A Woman is Yin.

A Man is Yang.

Yin is passive – oppressed and feminine.

Yang is active – bright and masculine.

Male toughness is balanced by Female gentleness.

Masculine Traits are balanced by Feminine Traits.

Thus – gender balance or gender equilibrium is maintained.

Yin-Yang Balance helps maintain Harmony.

Disturbing the delicately poised “gender equilibrium” may upset Yin-Yang Balance.

Upsetting the Yin-Yang Balance – will – in turn – cause gender related stress, tension, conflict and disharmony in society. 

We are already seeing increasing evidence of such disharmony – and its consequent ramifications – which include gender based crime – violence and abuse – and the rise in divorce rates, breakups and marital discord.

What is the solution?

Well – if you are a “mathematician” – or a “scientist”  – you will say: 

It is simple – just balance the “gender equilibrium” equation.

If increasing masculinization of women is balanced by corresponding feminization of men – gender balance will be restored – and the problem will be mitigated.

All you have to do is: 

Balance the increasing number of “he-women” by a corresponding number of “she-men”.

But – this is easier said than done.

In today’s urban scenario – owing to compulsions of the workplace – or as a consequence of cultural modernization in society – women are developing masculine traits.

Yes – “she-women” are increasingly becoming “he-women”.

Now – in order to achieve Yin-Yang Balance – and restore gender equilibrium – are modern men prepared to imbibe feminine traits...?

Are “He-Men” prepared to become “She-Men” in order to counterbalance the effect of “She-Women” becoming “He-Women”...?

If this does not happen – Yin-Yang balance will be disturbed. 

Society will become increasingly “masculine” in nature.

The consequential ramifications of this behavioural imbalance will not augur well for societal harmony in general – and for gender harmony in particular.

Think about it.

I look forward to your comments and views. 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

This Story was written by me 5 years ago in the year 2011 and earlier Posted by me online earlier in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/02/gender-balance-emergence-of-modern.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/04/when-she-women-become-he-women-but-he.html

The “Liberated” Woman

The “LIBERATED” WOMAN

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

Epilogue

This happened many years ago – and – I don’t know why I have decided to tell you this story about the “Liberated Woman” today…

The “Liberated” Woman – a Story by Vikram Karve

It was her virtuoso performance at the “women’s empowerment” debate that earned her the soubriquet “Liberated Woman”.

The nickname “Liberated Woman” stuck – and even today – I remember her impassioned speech in which she articulated her strong views on “gender equality” and “women’s empowerment” in a most lucid and compelling manner.

From the forceful and fervent manner in which she spoke – it was clear that she was speaking from the heart – and – she fully believed in what she was saying.

All of us in the audience were impressed – and – among the audience was a young man – the “scion” of a famous industrial family – the son of a business magnate who was the Chief Guest for the debate – which was an important event in our college day celebrations.

The young industrialist was struck by the “thunderbolt” – and he instantaneously fell in love with “liberated woman” – for him – it was truly “love at first sight”.

That night – at the dinner table – the young man expressed his desire to marry “liberated woman”.

His parents were delighted – because – their son was now 30 years old – and – till now – the young man had refused to consider any marriage proposals.

After “due diligence” – the business magnate learned that “liberated woman” belonged to a good family – though not very affluent.

The business magnate approached the parents of “liberated woman” with the marriage proposal – asking for their daughter’s hand for their son.

The parents of “liberated woman” were delighted – especially her mother – who was overjoyed that her daughter had netted a “prize catch”.

For the mother of “liberated woman” – her daughter’s marriage to the young industrialist was a “social triumph”.

It did not matter that the boy was 30 – almost 10 years older than her daughter.

What mattered was that her daughter would transcend from the “middle class” into the elite class – and she would now “belong” to the highest strata of society.

So – the mother instantly said “yes” to the marriage proposal.

Of course – “liberated woman” – who was still studying in college – in the final year of her BA degree course – was bewildered by the sudden turn of events – but – her mother prevailed upon her – using every trick in the book – including all sorts of “emotional blackmail”.

So – “liberated woman” got engaged to the scion of the business family – and – the moment she completed her graduation – she got married to the young industrialist.

ONE YEAR LATER

I heard that “liberated woman” was in hospital – so I went to meet her.

It was nothing very serious – “liberated woman” had gone through a difficult pregnancy and had developed some complications during childbirth – but she was okay now – and her baby – a girl – was okay too.

In my presence – the gynecologist visited the “liberated woman” and told her: “I will advise you not to have any more children – so you better take some precautions.”

ANOTHER YEAR LATER

I heard that “liberated woman” was in hospital again.

“Liberated Woman” had once again gone through a terrible pregnancy – developed complications during her delivery – but now – she had recovered and she was okay.

This time too – she had delivered a girl – and the baby girl was healthy too.

“I told you not to get pregnant – but you did not listen to me. At least now – please make sure that you do not get pregnant again – it can be dangerous for you,” the gynecologist scolded the “liberated woman”.

“Yes – now that you have two children – there is no need to take any more chances,” I said to the “liberated woman”.

“I think you should get sterilization done – it is a simple operation – I suggest you get it done right now – so that you will not get pregnant again…” the gynecologist said.

“I will ask my husband…” said my friend the “liberated woman”.

“Okay – but I strongly suggest that you get yourself sterilized – or your husband can get himself sterilized – so that you can prevent pregnancy which can be dangerous for you…” the gynecologist said.

After the gynecologist left – I looked at my friend “liberated woman” and I said to her: “The doctor had told you not to get pregnant after your first delivery. Why did you not listen to her? You already had a baby girl? What was the need to get pregnant again? And – why did you get pregnant so fast – within a year?”

“My husband wanted a boy,” she said.

“What? I can’t believe it. You put your life at risk just because your husband wanted a boy? And – in college – you used to…”

“I know – I used to talk big feminist things about “women’s empowerment” and “gender equality” and the “girl child” – yes – those days I did say all that – so – you can call me a ‘hypocrite’ – you can say that I am a ‘fraud’ – but please try to understand – it is easy to talk idealistic things – but it is not easy to practice them in real life…?”

“What do you mean…?”

“I am married into a conservative patriarchal business family – and they want an “heir” – a male – and what is worse – my husband’s cousin brother has a son – so my husband is desperate – it’s very complicated – you won’t understand – let’s talk something else…” the “liberated woman” pleaded with to me.

TWO YEARS LATER

At our college Alumni Meet – I met a classmate – and she said to me: “Did you hear the sad news about “Liberated Woman”…?”

“No. What happened…?” I said.

“Don’t you know…?”

“No…”

“She passed away…”

“What…? “Liberated Woman” is dead? How did she die…?”

“She died in childbirth…”

“Oh – that is tragic – very tragic – she had been warned by the gynecologist that she should not get pregnant…”

“I know – but she still got pregnant – and she had a very difficult time – so her husband flew her abroad and admitted her to a posh maternity home in her 7^th month itself – she got the best prenatal care – and they got the best doctors for her delivery – but even they could not save her – I heard there were severe complications during the delivery and she died in the Operation Theatre – poor thing – but – they saved the baby…”

“Really…? They saved the baby...? What was the baby – a girl…?”

“No – a boy – after two girls she delivered a boy…”

“Oh – so finally – she delivered a boy…”

“Yes…”

“The “Liberated Woman” has been “liberated”…” I said to myself.

“Did you say something…?” my classmate asked me.

“No…” I said. 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction.  Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

FREEDOM – a Lazy Story

FREEDOM

A Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives:

FREEDOM is a Story from COCKTAIL - my anthology of short stories about relationships.

FREEDOM is one of my “Lazy Mumbai Stories”.

One morning – almost 15 years ago – in the year 2000 to be precise – as I watched the sea of humanity near Churchgate – hurrying to their workplaces like robots – the idea of this story germinated in my mind.

Sometime later – I wrote this “philosophical” introspective story FREEDOM.

I am posting the story below – updated and abridged – once more – for you to read.

I am sure you will enjoy reading it – and feel a sense of “Freedom”…

FREEDOM – a story by Vikram Karve

Anonymity.

That’s what I like about Mumbai.

As I lose myself in the sea of humanity leaving Churchgate station in the morning rush hour – I experience a refreshing sense of solitude.

I notice that I am walking fast – in step with the crowd – as if propelled by the collective momentum.

I experience the tremendous advantages of obscurity as I lose myself in the huge enveloping deluge of people.

That’s Freedom – the power of anonymity. 

But I am in no hurry.

I have no office, no destination to reach.

I have come here to spend some time with myself.

Here – no one would be watching me.

And – I can do as I please.

That’s Freedom – to be able to do as I please.

I stand outside the subway at Churchgate.

Should I turn right – walk past Asiatic Store, Gaylord Restaurant and Rustoms Ice Cream Parlour towards Marine Drive on the Arabian Sea?

Or should I go straight ahead – past Eros Cinema – to Nariman Point?

Or should I walk to my left – between the Oval and Cross Maidan – towards Hutatma Chowk – Flora Fountain?

I feel good.

I feel as if I were on top of the world.

I am free to go wherever I please.

That’s Freedom – to be able to go wherever I want to.

The essence of travel is to have no destination.

 A good traveller is one who does not know where he is going to reach before he starts his journey.

You decide on the spot – instinctively – intuitively – impulsively – spontaneously.

That’s freedom – to be able to decide on the spot – to do as one likes – to go where one wants.

Yes.

That’s real and true freedom!

I choose the third option.

I turn left and leisurely walk on the pavement – looking at the boys playing cricket on the Oval to my right.

The pavement booksellers near the Central Telegraph Office are setting up shop.

I cross the road – and I stand near Flora Fountain.

I might as well ring up my husband.

Not that he would bother.

He’s not bothered about me – and neither am I bothered about him.

It is mutual – the indifference.

Yes – indifference – that is the essence of our relationship – marital indifference – mutual indifference.

That’s not freedom – indifference is not freedom.

But the mask of caring and sharing – the facade of ‘conjugal conviviality’ – it has to be carefully maintained – at least for the sake of the outside world.

That is what matters – to him, at least – and – maybe for me too; at least till now.

I search for a public telephone.

I am not carrying my cell-phone.

I did not forget to carry my mobile phone.

I purposely did not bring my mobile phone with me.

That’s freedom – unshackling myself from the manacles of my cell-phone.

I find a phone – I insert a coin – and I dial his office number.

“I shall be late today,” I say.

“Okay,” my husband replies, trying to suppress his irritation.

But I can sense his annoyance a hundred miles away – transmitted through the telephonic waves.

He doesn’t like to be disturbed at office – especially by me – for he is always too busy with his affairs.

I wonder who his latest conquest is…?

Last time it was that petite girl at his office.

She looked so innocent, so pristine, so pure – and improbable paramour for a man of 50.

Maybe that’s why she was such a good mistress – and they continued their affair for so many months.

There were many before.

There will be many in future.

Deep down I feel betrayed.

It is terrible to love and not be loved in return.

I don’t know what to do.

I feel a sense of futility and helplessness.

That’s not freedom.

What can I do?

Should I walk out of the marriage?

And do what?

Perhaps I can also have an affair – tit for tat.

I have the looks – but I lack the guts.

That’s the reason why I have no choice but to continue in this futile and meaningless relationship.

That’s not freedom.

That’s cowardice – what they also call compromise.

Everyone looks at us with envy and admiration.

The successful husband – the charming wife – the ideal couple – ‘Made for Each Other’.

And from time to time – I hear myself tell everyone my biggest lie: “I’m so lucky. It’s been a lovely marriage. My life has been such a marvellous success.”

Mendacity, hypocrisy, pretence – that’s not freedom.

I window-shop on MG Road opposite the University till I reach Kalaghoda.

There’s a sale almost everywhere.

I have a glass of refreshing cold sugarcane juice on the roadside stall.

I browse at the Magna Book Store.

I hear the latest music at Rhythm House.

I see the latest paintings at Jehangir Art Gallery.

You can see, feel, browse, and hear whatever you want but need not buy – that’s freedom.

I decide to have lunch.

I eat ‘Stuffed Parathas’ at Café Samovar.

It is heavenly rich tasty stuff with an abundance of calories and cholesterol.

To hell with self-imposed killjoy restrictions – that’s freedom!

I sit alone in the long rectangular restaurant which reminds me of the dining cars on trains of yesteryears.

I eat alone.

I eat unhurriedly and consciously.

It is sacrilege to eat delectable food hastily.

Nobody stares at me as I eat slowly and mindfully, relishing the piping hot stuffed parathas to the fullest – dipping them liberally in the spicy chutneys with my fingers.

I indulge till I am satiated.

Then – I follow up with ice cream.

A delightful delicious meal enjoyed alone.

Epicurean pleasure of the highest order – that’s freedom!

Once again I realize the benefits of anonymity.

Nobody knows me.

Nobody is bothered about me.

The arty restaurant is full – with artists, art-lovers, office-goers, society ladies.

All busy in their own world.

The creative types – preoccupied with their own thoughts.

No one gives a damn.

This is Mumbai.

Not our company township near Pune – where my husband is the undisputed boss – the feudal lord – the ‘King’ – and I – the ‘Queen’ – pampered with all the comforts – fawned and flattered by plenty of sycophants masquerading as friends – but secretly envied by all.

It is like being trapped in a golden cage – that’s pseudo-freedom!

My daughter must have returned from college.

She is independent – on her own trip – having been given all the material comforts she desires.

With every passing year – the distance between us keeps on increasing.

I telephone my daughter from the public phone outside the restaurant.

“I’ll be late,” I tell my daughter.

“So shall I,” she replies. “I am going out with my friends.”

 Brevity in communication – the hallmark of our family – but – is it freedom?

 I spend the next few hours doing what I always liked doing.

Aimless loafing on Colaba Causeway – a brief visit to the Museum – gazing at the ships across the Gateway of India – a movie at Regal – a walk across the Oval - invigorating Irani Style Tea at the Stadium restaurant at Churchgate – then sitting on the parapet at Marine Drive and watching the sun being swallowed up by the sea.

I lose myself in my pleasure trip – in a state of timelessness – this is freedom – not the artificial sterile synthetic life I am living.

The sky is overcast and it starts to drizzle.

I walk leisurely on A-Road – enjoying the weather.

Mumbai is at its best in the monsoon season.

I stop before my house – my old house – my parents’ house – the house of my childhood – the house where I grew up – the house my parents had to sell for my dowry – in the hope that I would enjoy a better life.

And yes – my parents were happy – they were so happy – because – for my parents – my marriage to a business tycoon was a social triumph.

I feel a sense of nostalgia.

I reminisce.

There is no greater pain than to remember happier times when one is despondent, depressed and dejected with life.

But it is also true that when one’s intractable desires are thwarted by reality, there is a tendency to hark back to happy memories.

It is indeed at vicious circle.

Yes – it is a vicious circle in which I felt trapped at that moment.

So I turn away from my house of the past – and I walk into the present – back towards Marine Drive.

The sea is rough.

It is windy.

I can smell the rain in the distance.

I look at my watch.

It is almost 7 PM.

It is more than ten hours since I left my house in Pune.

I am enjoying the change of routine.

It is good to have a break.

After a long long time.

Most of us have a preference for some kind of routine or rhythm in our day-to-day life.

But when the rhythm becomes sinusoidal – the routine overwhelms you.

That’s when you’ve got to break it.

Like I did today.

Early in the morning – at precisely 6.30 AM – I had left my house.

As usual.

But – today I wasn’t wearing leotards underneath.

Because – I wasn’t going to the health club.

I went straight to the Pune railway station and caught the Deccan Queen.

To Mumbai.

It’s raining now.

I rush towards Churchgate station.

As I cross my favourite Chinese restaurant – I wonder with whom my husband would be having his “working” dinner.

My husband wouldn’t have missed me.

We never eat together nowadays.

Except breakfast on Sundays – when he buries himself behind the newspaper – nursing a hangover.

On other days – he would be off to office by the time I return from the my health club.

And I would busy myself with my daily routine.

Everything runs like clockwork.

Everyone takes me for granted.

There are no problems.

That is the real problem.

Oh yes!

My problem is that I do not have any problems!

Or do I?

You tell me.

I catch a Volvo bus from Dadar and reach home late at night.

It’s almost 11 PM.

There is no one at home.

The servants ask me if I want anything.

I say “No” – so they go off to sleep.

I too go off to sleep in my lonely bed.

I wake up late in the morning.

My husband gives me a beautiful diamond necklace.

He has got a gift for me – his darling wife – yes – as always – a gift to compensate his guilty conscience for his misdemeanors.

The worse the misdemeanor – the larger the guilt – and the more expensive the gift.

A gift to compensate guilt - that’s not love – that’s not freedom.

We sit at the breakfast table.

I was missing for the whole day yesterday.

But – no one asks me where I was yesterday.

Maybe I have become redundant.

Or have I?              

              

“Be ready at 12. I’ll send the car. We’ve got to go for that business lunch at the Golf Club,” my husband snaps peremptorily.

              

Oh yes.

I’ll go along.

I’ll deck up and go along with my husband – as “Arm Candy”.

“And, Mom – after that you’ve got to come with me to the jeweller,” my daughter commands.

That’s all I am worth these days.

I just have ornamental value.

Soon – I won’t have even that.

The moment they go away – I break into a laugh.

To hell with them!

From now on I am going to be free!

I will do exactly as I want.

I will go wherever I wish.

I will do whatever I please.

Yesterday – it was Mumbai.

Today – where should I go?

Lonavala?

No – it’s too boring.

Mumbai?

Not again!

Bangalore ?

I’ve been there many times.

Delhi?

Maybe!

Why not head for the hills – Ooty, Mussoorie, Darjeeling, Shimla, Nainital, Shillong…?

The possibilities are endless!

Hey!

Why should I tell you?

I am free to do as I please.

I am off on my own trip.

That’s freedom!

I have discovered the true meaning of freedom!

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction.  Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

This story FREEDOM was written by me Vikram Karve in the year 2000 and posted online earlier by me in my creative writing blogs a number of times including at urls: http://creative.sulekha.com/arm-candy_80938_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2010/08/wanderlust-story-discovering-freedom.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/10/the-meaning-of-freedom.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/11/freedom.html  etc