Fathers, Sons

(Thandrulu, Kodukulu)
Tripuraneni Gopichand

Translator
GRK Murty
 About the Author

Tripuraneni Gopichand (1910-1962), of Tenali, Andhra Pradesh, India, is a

Telugu short story writer, novelist, editor, essayist, playwright and film
director. His writings exhibit an exceptional interplay of values, ideas and
„isms‟—materialism, rationalism, existentialism, realism and humanism. He is
well-known among Telugu literati for his psychological novel—
Asamardhuni Jeevayatra (The Incompetent’s Life Journey). He was
posthumously presented the Sahitya Akademi Award for his novel,
Panditha Parameshwara Sastry Veelunama (Will of Panditha
Parameshwara Sastry), in 1963. Radical humanist, profound thinker,
philosopher, social reformer and an inveterate votary of truth, Gopichand
was a versatile genius, which reflects well in his scintillating stories that are
told in crisp language. His stories pose many questions that challenge the
wit of readers.
Kutumbarao didn‟t allow his pedananna1 to return home

along with the rest of the relatives who came to attend his
marriage. He requested him to stay back for another ten days.
Not being able to turn down Kutumbarao‟s request, he stayed
back.

Kutumbarao felt sorry of his uncle. At one time, he was farming

about 100 acres. He also owned a rice mill near the railway
station and a cloth shop in the town. In the neighboring
villages, his word ruled the roost. When he shouted standing on
the tank bund, the whole village trembled. Such a man,
Kutumbarao heard, is today facing many difficulties. Lost much
1
Pedananna—uncle—Father’s elder brother.
of his property. He has a grown up son, but good-for-nothing.
He is supposed to have said that he will not give a pie for his
parents‟ well-being. If this is the son‟s disposition, can the sons-
in-law be far behind?

It was all, of course, hearsay for Kutumbarao. After becoming a

doctor, Kutumbarao‟s father left his village for Madras and
started medical practice. Since then, the visits of relatives had
become rare. As a result, the happenings in their remotely
located native village had become mere rumour for them.

Kutumbarao could not understand his brother‟s behavior. As he

knew him, he was not a stone-hearted man. During his stay in
the village as a child, his brother used to write poetry. Indeed,
their family was known for poetry. It was to keep up the prestige
of their family under any circumstances that he had been
reading Raghuvamsam2 and Meghasandesam3 and explaining
their greatness to everybody. He read Manucharitram and
explained it to him, too. Explaining all the tribulations and
humiliations that Bhattumurthy had suffered from his peers for
being a non-Brahmin, he shed tears. He never attended to
household chores. Even his uncle never assigned any
household work to him. His uncle also had a wish that his son
should earn all fame and glory.

2
Raghuvamsam—an epic in Sanskrit written by Kalidasa.
3
Meghasandesam—a lyrical poem in Sanskrit written by Kalidasa.
At that time his brother was studying final year in the school.
Fearing that his son might face difficulties in going to school, his
uncle took a house on rent in the town and also arranged a
cook for him. In those days, his uncle had no other vocation
except being happy watching his son. He was spending any
amount of money for his son. He still remembered it. One day
his uncle went to school to see his son. In that very school, the
son of a zamindar of nearby village was also studying. Looking
at the dress he wore, and regretting that his son didn‟t have
such clothes, he took him immediately to a shop and bought
clothes of better value than those of the zamindar‟s son. The
school authorities were giving a special chair to the zamindar‟s
son. He quarreled for a similar chair for his son too, questioning,
“In what way is he greater than my son?”

Kutumbarao could not comprehend how conflict had crept in

between such a father and the son. Even if there is any wrong
with his uncle, shouldn‟t his brother be faithful to his father who
brought him up with so much love and affection? How is it that
his brother could be so indifferent to the sufferings of his father
who brought him up in life and also gave him good education?

It is understandable if he was suffering for want of money. But,

that was not the case. He got wealth from his wife‟s side, too.
Besides, he was earning as a school teacher. Why then trouble
his parents like this? It seems he was questioning, “What did he
earn that places us now under obligation to feed him?” How
unfair! Should taking care of the welfare of one‟s own parents
be also driven by business perspective?

Kutumbarao felt like asking his uncle for more details. So far, he
had heard what others had said about his brother. No need
that they should say the truth! Many are there in Andhra who
float a rumor, watch the fun and enjoy! It is therefore better to
know the truth.

“Pedananna!”

“Yes, my child?”

“I wish to ask you about …”

“What, my son?”

“About brother.”

The moment a question was raised about his son, he stooped

his head. He appeared to Kutumbarao as an extinct volcano,
as a burnt out mathabu4. After a while, it looked as though he
was sobbing. Kutumbarao‟s heart quivered.

“Pedananna, please …”

4
Mathabu—a kind of fireworks that emits bright light when burnt.
He could withhold his sobbing. Heaving a sigh, he said, “Don‟t
ask about him, my son—if we rip off the belly, it would fall on
the legs.”

Kutumbarao didn‟t say anything. Thinking further questioning

would be like rubbing salt into the wound, he remained silent.
After a while, his uncle himself said—

“He is a fine fellow, my child.”

“Then how about sister-in-law.”

“Indeed, it is she who has set the family on fire. She does not let
us step into her house. She will not tolerate giving even a pie to
us.”

“Will annayya5 listen to her?” enquired Kutumbarao.

“Will not cross the line drawn by her.”

“Why?”

“Our fate. There is no point in blaming him. We have to just think

of him as an inept fellow. A fellow who, listening to his wife,
drives away his parents, will he have any future?” Starting thus,
he slowly revealed his story. He did not seem to be inclined to
heap allegations on his son. “You are, nonetheless, as good as
my son and hence nothing wrong in telling you my plight,” he
thus started revealing his whole story.

No sooner had his wife joined him, than he—who had been
looking after his parents till then with devotion—suddenly
changed. It seems his son asked him: “Why have you
established a cloth shop? Who asked you to construct a
factory? Why have you spent so much on our education? Who
asked you to do „works‟ that are beyond our reach?” He
quarreled for returning the dowry that his in-laws gave him at
the time of marriage. Not being able to put up with him and
fearing that the family affairs might become public, he had

5
Annayya—brother.
transferred the ownership of the house constructed by his
ancestors in the name of his daughter-in-law. Next day, it
seems, annayya had driven them out of his house. Since then,
he says, they have been living in the hut taken on rent in the
neighboring village. Not being able to stay away for long, if
they ever visited their house, they were bullied by them. Even
the grandchild was not allowed to go near them. They would
not serve food even once. Saying, “Look he has come for
eating,” his daughter-in-law would draw the attention of the
neighbors towards him. Narrating all these incidents,
pedananna shed tears. “Is it fair, my son? Listening to wife and
treating parents like this? You know who she is? She is from the
pedigree of dukkamukkala. She cannot tolerate our very
presence. Remembering the past, she is today avenging the
old feuds our and their ancestors had, perhaps, in this style.
And, is he to play to her tune?” pedananna trembled with
indignation and anger.

Kutumbarao could well understand the wrath that the memory

of the old feuds with dukkamukkala family caused his
pedananna. He was a bit amused reminding himself of the
proverb—though the tamarind tree is dead, its pungency is not.
Since long, there had been two parties in their village. One
party was led by dukkamukkala faction, while the other was
headed by his ancestors. His pedananna and the people of
dukkamukkala family were basically driven by money. They
had no other vocation than earning money. People of his wing
were rich. They often looked down upon the dukkamukkala
sect saying, “People of
dukkamukkala clan are
ready to even bite grass for
money. Is their living too a
living?” In the same vein,
dukkamukkala clan used to
label his group as
“cultureless and egotistical.”
Kutumbarao was aware of
the existence of two parties
in his village. Was also
aware that people of his
sect used to despise people
of dukkamukkala clan. But it was all history now. Recently, there
was a dramatic change. Clamoring for possessions that are
beyond the reach, the families of his clan had gone haywire.
On the other hand, being diligent in their pursuits, people of
dukkamukkala sect became richer. And slowly they wielded
enormous power in the village. The management of the library
had gone into their hands. So was the case with the school.
Even the panchayati board leadership had gone to them.
Many of them got educated. Many of them had even become
pundits. All these people who had once remained obedient to
his clan, now started ignoring them. They began to give insult
for insult, and affront for affront. This made the people of his
clan feel insulted. It even caused vexation to them. It was
natural for his pedananna to be annoyed at them and his
becoming wrathful at the very mention of the clan‟s name did
not appear wrong for Kutumbarao. He became angry with his
brother for supporting the woman hailing from dukkamukkala
clan blindly without thinking of these developments and
troubling his parents. He had also heard that his brother was not
letting any relatives into his house other than those hailing from
his wife‟s family. In any case, it is horrible to persecute the
parents who gave birth to him.

“So, what do you want to do pedananna?”

“What else is left for me to do? Except to regret his impudence,

we never worried about ourselves. Our lives will somehow pass
off.”

“You have given away the house too, to him!”

“Yes, I did give. I could not but give when he asked for it. Why,
that‟s not the only thing! Disposing of the one acre in our village
that is in the name of your peddamma6, I had purchased ten
acres in the village that I am now residing. It‟s a goldmine. But
often it gets swamped under drainage water. If I spend

6
Peddamma—wife of pedananna (wife of father’s elder brother).
hundred rupees on it, it would produce superior kind of rice. I
don‟t have the money. I asked him, „Just give me hundred
rupees. I‟ll not ask you again.‟ Of course, I had no inclination to
ask. Not being able to put up with your peddamma‟s pestering,
I did ask. You know what he said? „You transfer that ten acres in
my name, then I shall give you.‟ I agreed, „I shall do that,
provided you give it in writing to give annually a certain sum to
us.‟ You should see his reaction for it—he pounced on me.”

“Believe me,” continued pedananna. “Having lost so much,

thinking why to quarrel on this ten acres, I thought of saying
„Yes‟ to him! But, your peddamma desisted strongly. I have
spent her inherited property of about thirty thousand. But she
never said a single word against it. This time round, I don‟t know
what struck her mind, she stood by her refusal staunchly—”

“She did a good thing,” commented Kutumbarao.

“Did she?” his pedathandri7 anxiously queried.

“Indeed it‟s a good thing. Otherwise, you would have lost even
that little support,” replied Kutumbarao.

“You mean, taking that ten acres he would have again

troubled us without giving money?” his pedathandri asked
surprisingly.

7
Pedathandri—father’s elder brother (pedananna).
Pitying his pedananna‟s innocence, Kutumbarao said, “Aha!
Any doubt? Having done all this, what would stop him from
doing that?”

His Pedananna started thinking over it. He appeared to have

not lost his faith in his son fully. Perhaps, it might never happen.
Whatever injustice his son heaped on them, he was perhaps
finding it difficult to give off the feeling, “After all I am his father;
would he be that unfair to me.” Looking at his pedananna,
Kutumbarao could now understand how difficult it is for parents
to accept parting from their son, and the very thought of
having no relationship with one‟s own son any longer.

“Pedananna?” called Kutumbarao very feelingly.

“Yes, my child?”

“Will the farm become productive, if you have hundred

rupees?”

“It would certainly become more productive!”

“That would make you no longer dependent on others!”

“I shall become capable of helping somebody,” said his

pedathandri. As he was uttering these words, his eyes sparkled.
Kutumbarao could see the very bright future of India in his eyes.
That very day his uncle started for his village. When he was
leaving, Kutumbarao gave him two hundred rupees. Taking the
money his uncle said, “You are also married. Like your brother,
in your anxiety to stand by your wife, do not cause mental
agony to your parents, my child.”

*****

All this happened around two years back. In these two years
many changes had taken place. Kutumbarao‟s wife joined him
to start conjugal life. No sooner had he got a job than he
established his family in Chittoor. In between he had come
once or twice to see his parents, but could not stay for long as
he found it difficult to stay away from his wife. He returned
immediately. Thereafter he didn‟t go even when his father
wrote a letter asking him to visit them. The reason could be
anything—of not getting time or, his wife‟s declaration about
her inability to stay alone. Or, it could be that he no longer felt
quite at home in Madras. Over it, his sister wrote a letter saying,
“Have you forgotten us so soon annayya? With sister-in-law by
your side, have we fallen out of your sight? It‟s not for nothing
that elders say, „The horns that have come much later are
more powerful than the ears that have come earlier.‟”
The letter made him chuckle. Hitherto, while preparing for
whatever exam, if he had not visited home, nobody said
anything. At the most, they might have said, “why not pay a
quick visit once in a while?” Now, they name his wife as the
cause for his not going home.

It amused him to learn that his family members think that he

loves his wife so much. He had shown his sister‟s letter to his
wife. He expected her to be happy about it. Instead, reading
the letter she said without raising her head, “Why not go
once?”

“You said, „I can‟t stay alone‟?”

“Have you deferred it for my sake?”

“What else for?”

“You only should know it. And your people should know it.” He
then realized that she did not take the letter as lightly as he did.
To amuse her, he said—
“Do I have free-time to go? Office—wife—family, I have so
many responsibilities now. Am I alone, as in the past, to stay
there for long?”

As he was talking so, he remembered his pedananna and his

son. He wondered if he too was behaving like his cousin
brother. He then stopped the conversation. He did not say to
his wife about his giving two hundred rupees to pedananna.
Fearing that it might disturb her, he remained silent. He
doubted that of late he too was hesitating to behave contrary
to his wife‟s likes and dislikes. What if—what‟s wrong in it? If two
people are to live together, they should be compassionate to
each other. He felt that empathizing with others need not
necessarily mean diminishing of reverence for parents. This
made him feel like visiting his pedananna and his brother once.

A few days later, after attending his friend‟s marriage and

knowing that his uncle‟s village was nearby, Kutumbarao visited
them. Pedathandri was residing in a hut. His uncle and aunt
were happy of his visit. In the course of conversation, his uncle
narrated to him all that had happened in the recent past. He
revealed that they could not settle their differences.

Sometime back, when his mother was seriously ill, almost on

deathbed, he didn‟t turn up to see her nor did he send money.
Out of two hundred rupees Kutumbarao gave, after repaying
market borrowings, it seems he spent almost hundred rupees on
her medicines. As a result, the farm remained as it was. That
apart, ten days back when their daughter came to see them
after a long time, they were to spend the balance amount on
her, else she might feel sad that her parents had seen her off
with no gift. The farmers who were conversing with his uncle,
confirmed these revelations.
They commented, “We haven‟t come across such a son
anywhere! What if a son, who cannot look after the welfare of
his father, is alive or dead! Can‟t he manage on his own?
Should a need arise, we would take care of him. Everything
remained alright because he could not come out of his
fondness for his son. Had it been someone else he would have
dragged him to the court making him run for his life.”

“Don‟t curse him, after all he is my son. Because my days are

not good, he is being driven by such thoughts,” said his uncle.

“See? Despite whatever they do, he won‟t let a bad word be

spoken about them,” said one of the farmers.
Seeing his uncle, Kutumbarao‟s eyes welled up with tears.
Giving him fifty rupees that he had, he started for his village to
visit other relatives. As he was about to go, his uncle took him
aside and said—

“Don‟t let him know of your giving money to me, my child.”

“What‟s wrong pedananna?”

“Despite his not giving, he will not keep quiet if he comes to

know that I have taken money from others!”

“Why?”
“Seems, it is an insult to him. Thinks, others would come to know
of his troubling parents by not giving money. He thinks that
would spoil his reputation.”

Boiling within himself at the acts of his brother, Kutumbarao

said, “Ok pedananna.I will not…”

From there, he went to his native village and called on every

relative. All the relatives were quite unhappy with his brother.
Narrating all his acts of commission and omission, they inferred
that he was a cur in their clan. They also wanted to drag him to
court and give him a run for his life. But they pointed out that his
uncle was not agreeing.

“He will not allow any of his father‟s relatives enter his house.
Even if anybody goes, he sends them out without even inviting
them for dinner. But, he looks after his wife‟s relatives
entreatingly. Same is his approach in the case of village
politics—supports his wife‟s relatives. People of dukkamukkala
clan have indeed become veritable gods to him,” averred the
villagers.

Listening to all these words, Kutumbarao started straight for the

town in which his brother was working.

*****
Seeing Kutumbarao, Ramarao asked, “Coming from where!”
Ramarao is the son of his uncle. He is working in the town as a
school master.

Kutumbarao replied that he came to attend his friend‟s

marriage and availed the opportunity to see him. Immediately,
Ramarao went inside and returned with his children. He has
three daughters and a son. The son is the eldest. He introduced
Kutumbarao to his son as babai8. The girls circled him chirping
“babai, babai”, but the son held back staring at him.

“He has picked up all our traits,” said Ramarao to his cousin
brother.

Kutumbarao was shaken by this comment. He looked at his

brother intently. Ramarao said: “Neither it strikes to him, nor
does he listen to others. He holds his thoughts firmly. He is not
the kind who mixes freely with people. In the routine course, he
cannot show respect to others. Don‟t know how he will survive.”

Getting angry at this, the boy walked away giving a piercing

look at his father. Meanwhile, his sister-in-law came out offering
formal pleasantries to Kutumbarao.

“How is everything, fine abbai?”

“Aa.”

“Father and mother are keeping fine!”

“Aa.”

“Where are you working now?”

Kutumbarao answers.

“Isn‟t ammai staying with you?”

8
Babai—uncle—father’s younger brother.
“Aa.”

“After you started residing in Chittoor, did your father or mother

come to see you?”

“No.”

“They won‟t come,” said Ramarao.

“Your views are singular,” his wife said.

“Not that; they had learnt that he too, like me, had changed
with the arrival of his wife to start marital life,” said Ramarao,
with a feigned laugh.

“Your brother always talks like that! Come on, get up to have
bath,” said she, smilingly.
“Get up babai, come on babai,” saying, the girls started pulling
his hands. After bath, the brothers sat for lunch. While taking
lunch, they both recalled many events of their childhood. They
talked about their village affairs and also about the status of
their relatives.

“Our village is no longer what it was. Our families have totally

turned bad. They have become the abode of improbity.
Jealousy and vengeance have become the current
characteristics of our people. Irrespective of whether they are
our people or outsiders, whoever is doing well, it is their fall that
the others are wishing for. Today, if you look at our families, you
would be reminded of our ancient constructions of glory, which
are today in ruins. You feel pity looking at them. But what use?
They, having broken into such small pieces which are beyond
repair, are getting mixed up with soil,” said Ramarao.

“Apart from your getting spoiled, you are spoiling him too,” said
Ramarao‟s wife with a smile.

“You say, I am spoiled?” asked Ramarao.

“Ask your people, then you will come to know,” said his wife.

“Tell me your opinion,” said Ramarao.

“Do not listen to his words, abbai9,” she walked away laughing.

Both the brothers finished their lunch. Kutumbarao lay over the
bed, meant for him in the room, and reflected upon the day‟s
happenings. His brother had changed, changed completely.
But that change did not appear as dreadful as it was when
others narrated. Thinking so, he fell asleep, overtaken by the
fatigue of the journey. After a while, he woke up. Somebody
was conversing in the adjacent room. Listening to the voices,
he could recognize it as that of his brother and pedananna.

His pedananna was saying, “Nayana10, give me fifty rupees! I

shall not ask again soon.”

“What have you done with the money taken last time?”

“What shall I say, after taking money from you I went to a

village to visit our relatives. After taking lunch in your maternal
uncle‟s house, I slept for a while. When I got up and looked for
money, it was not there. Whom shall I ask? All are our near
relatives. It‟s all my fate.”

Ramarao did not appear to have believed it. “Sure, you

haven‟t spent for the court case?”

“No. Am I to do what you are against?”

9
Abbai—an informal and a warm way of calling a younger male.
10
Nayana—an affectionate way of calling a son by a father or mother.
“Might have lent to somebody in the village.”

“No. No. Rama, Rama! Will I believe their words? Will I let your
hard-earned money go into their hands? Whatever you might
think, nayana! I wish you should earn lots of money and
become a great man. After all, I am your father. I have brought
you up with these hands! Can I wish to subject you to
tribulations, nayana.” Ramarao remained silent. Kutumbarao
could sense that he had gone inside to get money. All this
appeared pretty confusing to Kutumbarao. Could not decide
either way. Realizing that unless he confronted his pedathandri,
reality would not come out, he came out of the room.
Ramarao also came out with money and gave it to his father.
Taking it he said:

“I do not like to make you spend so much money, nayana! As

far as I am concerned, I do want to stay with you chanting
Rama, Krishna! What else do I need except to stay with you
and watch your children growing? But, your amma11 is not
allowing it to happen. You know her nature, nayana. She
always wants to have something of her own. Doesn‟t want to
live under the roof of others. What can I do? She has lived a
rich life. At the fag end of the life, I do not want to deprive her
of her longings.”

11
Amma—mother.
He then saw Kutumbarao. He thought that on seeing him, his
pedananna would be surprised. But it didn‟t happen. As
though he had not seen him for long, asked him,

“When did you come?”

“Right now.”

“How is your father?”

“Aa.”

“He won‟t come to see us even for once. We may not matter
to him now,” said he.

“Must he not get respite from his busy engagements?”

Ramarao tried to smooth the conversation.

“If only he had the desire to see us, won‟t there be respite? You
don‟t know how much we struggled for his education! Wishing
that he should get educated and become an accomplished
individual, we sent him to the college with the money of the
undivided family. Isn‟t it because of him, we became indebted!
It is the debt that we made for his education which has grown
over years that vanquished the whole property. If we are today
cribbing like this, isn‟t it because of him? But he doesn‟t have
that gratitude. He doesn‟t even bother to come and see
whether we are eating or not, whether we are dead or alive.
What matters for him is himself, his wife, and his children.”
 Kutumbarao‟s mind became blank. He sat before Ramarao
quietly with droopy head.

“Pestering own son is over. So, is it now the turn of brother‟s

son?” asked Ramarao‟s wife, from behind the door.

Listening to her words, his pedathandri got up saying, “I will

make a move nayana.”

“Have food and go,” invited Ramarao‟s wife.

“How this new-found courtesy?” said his pedathandri.

“What are you saying nanna12 ...” Ramarao intervened.

“Oh! Come on, you need not defend your wife. To exhibit her
civility before him, she asked me to stay back for lunch. Did she
ever ask before?” saying he went away.

“See abbai, if there is anyone around, this is how it goes. If none

is around, happily he would take lunch and go. What use
anyway in blaming others? The weakness lies in him. He gives
away whatever money he asks. Taking away the money, he
tells everybody whatever pleases him. And yet, he keeps
quiet,” said she.

12
Nanna—father.
Both the brothers sat quiet. When Kutumbarao, raising his head,
looked out, his pedathandri, standing on the road, was waving
his hand, gesticulating to come out. He got up and slowly
walked out.

“See nayana? That‟s the way. All said and done, I am her
father-in-law. But see her, standing in front, how she is talking
provocatively. To prove that she is good, and the fault is only
mine, she acted like that before you. Will I fall in her trap? He
used to be like a tiger. After becoming her husband, see, how
cat-like, he has become. As she is chirping like a bird, see, he
could not even say a single word.”

Kutumbarao did not say anything. He felt suffocated like a fly

stuck in honey. As he did not say a single word, his pedathandri
became suspicious. Coming nearer to him, he laid his hand on
his shoulder and said, “Are you wondering at my addressing
you as though I have not seen you for long? What else can I
do? He is the kind of a fellow who can count the intestines, if I
yawn. If he comes to know that I met you earlier, he would,
doubting that I might have complained against him to you, not
let me step into his house. Living thus far, today, at this ripe age,
I am to fear everybody nayana!” Shedding tears, he
continued: “See nayana how cunning he is! Whenever I came,
he sent me back giving nothing. Today, because of your
presence, fearing you may think of him badly, he gave me fifty
rupees.”

“What pedananna? He had given it well before my coming?”

said Kutumbarao.

Pedathandri got angry at his words. He pounced at him

ferociously. “Gave it before your coming? You have seen it?
Isn‟t it me who has seen it? I have been thinking—saying this or
that, she would get you in her trap. How is it that timid fellows
like you all, had born out of us?” he went away hurriedly.

Kutumbarao stood there staring at pedathandri.

Looking at Kutumbarao as he walked into the house, Ramarao

enquired of him, “Has he asked for money?”

“Who?” asked Kutumbarao.

“Nanna.”

Kutumbarao nodded his head in the negative.

“Has he said?” asked Ramarao.

“What?”

“About me,” said Ramarao laughingly.

“Why not? That‟s the only work he has,” said Ramarao‟s wife.
Kutumbarao looked at his sister-in-law. She was smiling. Looked
at his brother. He sat ready to listen. Finding himself in an
awkward predicament, Kutumbarao said, “Why all this
vexation? Perhaps, giving him a certain amount per annum
may solve the whole problem.”

At this, Ramarao‟s wife cast a sidelong glance at her husband

with a smile. He could sense that his father had spoken about
him to Kutumbarao negatively. He didn‟t like his brother
misunderstand him. He explained—

“You know me well. I don‟t believe in accumulating wealth as

the sole objective of life. I believe that there are certain values
which are greater than money. Amongst them, humanism is the
most important. Whoever gives a go-by to humanism is, in my
opinion, not a man but only a beast. I look at all the problems
that I encounter in my life from this perspective. Yet, I could not
make my father satisfied. This is not an isolated conflict that‟s
going on between me and my father. It‟s happening all over
the country.”
“The abyss that has come between fathers and sons today had
never happened earlier. The prime cause for this is the non-
existence of today‟s level of difference in perspectives and
thoughts in the past. The transition in the social fabric from our
great grandparents to our parents was indeed gradual. That is
why time passed smoothly with no or little conflict between
fathers and sons. With fear and reverence, the son used to
submit himself to the orders of the father. The father too used to
ignore the little changes that have crept into his son‟s behavior
as though not seen. Today, it‟s not like that. Changes are taking
place very fast. When the traditions that they have believed in
staunchly and the theories that have inspired them all along
are turning topsy-turvy right in front of their eyes, fathers find
themselves in a mess. They are not able to attune themselves to
the changing times. They are not able to understand the
circumstances rightly.”

“This is what exactly happened with my father. Don‟t think I am

chiding him. He did greater than what any other father placed
in these circumstances would have done for my progress. I
cannot deny that. Because he has given birth to me, if one
insists that whatever appears good to his eyes should also
appear good to me, then it becomes a real problem.”

“Ever since I got the job, I have been imploring him to stay with
me. But in the beginning he had not agreed. He said: „Having
lived thus far you want me to live under the son‟s eaves? You
want me to eat a few morsels from daughter-in-law‟s hands,
that too, of a lady from dukkamukkalavari clan, no way!‟ In
those days, whenever I tried to give him money, he used to say,
„you are the giver and am I the taker?‟ Such was his
indignation.”

“But within a few days, all the wealth evaporated, not even a
cent of land remained; it became difficult to make ends meet.
Coming to know of it, myself and your sister-in-law went to him
and with intense pleading and great difficulty, could get them
to our house. Then on, neither of us had peace. Right from day
one of their coming, they started pestering your sister-in-law.
You know your sister-in-law is dukkamukkalavari woman. You
also know that between our clan and theirs, there has been a
feud running for generations. Father could not forget this even
in his sleep. He has grown up with that feud, and has become
old in it. Even if he feels like changing today, he cannot.”

“Keeping this feud in mind, he used to reproach her for

everything. „Today you have become the feeder and we the
fed,‟ he taunted. He often said, „Your great grandfather was
gleaning in our rice fields. Your people have made money by
biting foul means; if we were also to do the same, I would have
made lakhs of rupees by now.‟ He has been imagining that she
hesitates to spend money for all things. Not being able to put
up with the admonishing of my father, if she replied, he
immediately complained to me. „How the hell are you leading
marital life with her for all these days?‟ He questioned me.
„Either she should stay in this house or I should,‟ such was his
rivalry.”

“What am I to do? I tried to explain to him several times, but my

pleadings made no sense to him. Besides, he used to pounce
on me saying I am defending my wife. Since then, he had been
telling everybody that I am a slave of my wife, that heeding to
her sayings I am troubling them in varied ways, that I am not
even feeding them properly and that I am a man with no spine
who dances to her tune.”
“We have tolerated all this, accepting them for what they are.
Behind me he speaks bad about me, but in front of me
behaves alright. Remaining so, he, caressing my son,
complained against his mother even on trivial issues and in the
process could succeed in creating an aversion in his mind for
his mother. Being young, believing whatever he said, he started
fighting with his mother. He could not even stand the very
presence of his mother. Your sister-in-law, who tolerated all this,
could no longer put up with this development. I told him, „It‟s
not fair to goad the son to fight with his mother.‟ But, to me he
would say that he is not aware of any such thing, that it is my
wife who not being happy with him and hence to get rid of him
had fabricated all this. Once I step out of the house, it begins
again.”

“Seeing all this, I too felt that there is no other alternative

except to keep my parents separate from me. Once, when my
sister came, I asked her to take them to her house for a month.
You know sister and her husband have great respect for father.
Even they could not entertain them in their house beyond ten
days. It was the same, there too. He was saying anything and
everything that strikes him against brother-in-law. Brother-in-law
eats mutton. It seems father fought with sister insisting on her not
to cook mutton for him. None of us in our families is habituated
to eat mutton. But, for our sake, would everyone give it up?
Saying, „If you cook mutton, I will not eat in your house,‟ father
remained obstinate. He abused the mutton-eaters bitterly. She
could not tolerate her husband being dusted off by him. Not
being able to put up with their bad mouth, she ultimately sent
them away. Since then, they have been living separately.
Whenever he felt like asking, he would ask for whatever money
he felt like asking. And I have been giving. But, how much can I
give?” Ramarao heaved a sigh.

Hearing all this, Kutumbarao gasped for a while. He could

never imagine that there was so much happening behind the
curtain. In response to his brother‟s last question and his sigh, he
asked, “After all how much does he need? Isn‟t it just for him
and aunt?”

“Thus far, it is pretty alright. But, he is collecting from me

schematically. He is behaving as though his only job is to drag
me on to roads and make me a laughing stock. He takes
money from me. Then, he lends it in fives and tens to all those
who speak on his behalf and enjoys listening to their cursing
me. Once the money is over, he would come to me again and
ask for it. This is the game.”

“I heard there is a little land in his name,” said Kutumbarao.

“That‟s a wound. It gives no yield. Yet, he won‟t listen to me.
Every year, he spends hundred or two hundred rupees on it. The
return from it could not suffice to pay even revenue cess.
Again, I have to give it. If anybody asks, he would say, „Being a
man, shouldn‟t one have at least ten acres of farm?‟ My
income plus the income that comes out of your sister-in-law‟s
property, is not sufficient even to meet my family expenditure. I
do have respect for him. But he should give me the scope to
treat him courteously. He should realize that besides his
responsibility, in this world, we have other responsibilities too.
Otherwise…”

“How come, brothers are sitting silent?” asked Ramarao‟s wife.

“Thinking about dukkamukkalavaru, sister-in-law,” replied
Kutumbarao.

“What, said everything to abbai?”

“Yes … I said everything. Good to keep him informed of it.”

“What good? Is it, like you, to get spoiled by listening to wife,”

the woman from the dukkamukkala clan said smilingly!

*****