Roots of identity

BOOK EXTRACT

The Indian diaspora has thrown up writers who tell of the loneliness of living in a foreign country. Award-winning writer Rishi Reddi, who grew up in Hyderabad, the UK and the US and now lives in the US, uses the immigrant experience to build up a collection of stories that describe the problems of being caught between the demons of tradition and the modernity of the adopted homelands. The following extract is from the short story "Lakshmi and the Librarian".

Lakshmi dresses in one of her favourite raw-silk saris for the celebration. Diwali is the holiday when good Hindus worship her namesake, Goddess Lakshmi. The goddess is the granter of good fortune and prosperity. How ironic, she thinks darkly, that this night her husband could desert her.

Lakshmi's sari is fuchsia with a purple border decorated with swans, embroidered with a glittering gold-thread design. When he sees her, Venkat wags his head from side to side with approval. "You look smart," he says. He is dressed in the usual uniform for the Indian men at these functions: a button-down shirt with dark pants and a belt.

They arrive slightly late at the Lexington High School auditorium, rush in and sit together near the front, at their usual seats. The Brahmin has already begun the puja. His monotone voice chants the Sanskrit slokas, he sprinkles the flower petals on the small garlanded statue of the goddess while children run up and down the aisles.

Lakshmi sees that the oil deepam lamps frame the stage quite artfully. Gopal approaches them to wish them happy Diwali. Lakshmi sees the strained expression on his face. She thinks that he glances at her once too often during the conversation with her husband. When she turns her head to say good-bye to him, she sees Shailaja and Vijaya looking at her from distant seats in the auditorium.

The dance recital begins. Lakshmi recognizes many of the daughters of her friends in the Telugu community. Dressed in rich costumes the colors of parrot feathers, with bells on their ankles and red-tipped fingers and eyes lined in black, they relate favorite Hindu stories: the boy Krishna stealing butter from the kitchen, Shiva's terrible dance of destruction, Rama and Sita in the forest.

Lakshmi is worried about what will happen at dinner. Do not believe what they say about me. She feels an urge to touch Venkat on the thigh, but she does not do so. The dance performance ends and the crowd files out to the gymnasium for dinner.

Men eat first, and the women fall back politely as the men gather in a line behind the buffet table. Lakshmi talks with her usual group of companions.

"So Lakshmi, you are not wearing pants today," she hears Vijaya say. Her voice sounds muffled to Lakshmi, as if she hears it through a dense cloud.

"Auntie was wearing pants?" cries Rukmini. "They must have suited you."

"Why wouldn't they?" says Amruta. "Don't you think us oldsters can wear pants?"

Lakshmi watches Venkat talking in the buffet line with Gopal. He is laughing at something Gopal says.

"But ask her where she was," Vijaya says to Rukmini.

"Why?" asks Rukmini.

Lakshmi sees Venkat moving away from the buffet line with a plate of food. He joins Gopal, Harish, and Prakash in a group in a far corner.

"I was at Mr. Filian's house, Rukmini. You must be knowing him. He is the librarian at the Lexington Public Library. He has a bad cold and I brought him some soup."

"And what is that?" Vijaya says. "You were supposed to be helping us. Don't you think people will talk?"

Lakshmi's eyes lock onto Vijaya's face. "Definitely some people will talk. I know that."

In that moment, from the corner of the room, Venkat looks at her. The cavernous gymnasium, the women dressed in heavy silk and jewels, the jingling glass bangles, the running children, the laughing men "" all the sounds and colors swirl into a vague mist that forms a background for Venkat's piercing glance at her.

Lakshmi shifts her eyes only slightly to meet his. Venkat knows. Lakshmi wonders if the lifetime they spent together, bound by their familiarity of religion and language, by parenting the same children, by sharing the same house, by adherence to the same tradition "" will that be enough?

During the ride home, Venkat is quiet.
"I must say one thing," begins Lakshmi.
"Don't say anything."

Lakshmi quivers in the passenger's seat. "I must say one thing," she says slowly in Telugu.

Venkat is quiet.

She speaks without looking at him. "We know each other. We know each other more than anyone else knows us. You just remember."

Venkat goes to bed that night without a word. When she wakes up in the middle of the night, his side of the bed is empty.

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KARMA & OTHER STORIES

Author Rishi Reddi
Publisher: HarperCollins
PAGES: viii + 216
Price: Rs 250