Breaking Point
Nimi Kurian
23 April 2009, 16:46“What’s this?” asked her mother-in-law, shoving the spoon and messing around with the coconut chutney.
“Thenga chutney,” said Shanthi sulkily.
“Aiyoo! You know I am not supposed to eat coconut. It’s not good for me. Suresh! Suresh! Come and see what your wife has done.”
Suresh came rushing out of the bathroom, the shaving cream still frothy on his face.
“What is it? What has she done now?”
“Aiyoo Rama! Why ask? See this…” she spooned up the chutney. “Full of coconut…How can I eat this? Your wife is trying to kill me.”
“Shanthi!” shouted Suresh. He was very annoyed. He hated these morning skirmishes and wished his mother and his wife would find a way to live together without calling him to sort out every fight. “Don’t you have any sense? You know amma can’t eat coconut. Then why did you make coconut chutney?”
“There was no kadalai so I made coconut chutney,” murmured Shanthi.
“What did you say?” asked Suresh. “What did you say? Open your mouth and talk!” He raised his hand and slapped her hard.
Shanthi ran into the kitchen clutching her sari to her cheek.
Suresh was still angry when he sat down to have his breakfast. He shouted for his coffee, which Shanthi was late in bringing in as she was hanging out the clothes she had just washed.
Shanthi quickly gulped down her breakfast and drank up her now lukewarm coffee on which had formed a film of cream. She began to wash up the breakfast things. She then set out the lunch on the dining table so that her mother-in-law could help herself. Suresh had already left for work. She went in for her bathe and dressed.
The jasmine she had bought last night was in the fridge. After combing her hair she took it out and pinned it on her hair. She grabbed her bag. All this she did without thinking. Her mind was numb from the hurt and humiliation she had faced. Anger would come later, she knew, when she had time to sit awhile and think.
As she was leaving her mother-in-law called out.
“What have you made for lunch?”
“Sambhar, porial, rasam and sadam,” she said stepping out.
“Am sure all of that will be unedibile. I wish you had learnt to cook!”
With those words ringing in her ears Shanthi ran down the steps, out of the gate to wait for the mini van that would take her to school. She glanced at her watch. Yes, she was on time.
She waited at the bus stand – five minutes, ten minutes…still no sign of the bus.
Then she realised that there would be no bus. The van driver was doing this a bit too often. She knew she would have to find a solution. Now she would have to take the town bus.
She crossed the road and walked quickly through the alley onto the main road. It was hot, and by the time she reached the bus stop she was perspiring. She could feel the sweat running down her face.
After another ten minute wait, the bus arrived. It was full. There were people standing in the aisles and boys hung out of the doorway. They did not get off to let her in, instead they leaned back making just enough room for to squeeze past. Shanthi knew that if she had to ride in the bus she would have to push past the boys. She brushed against them as she got in. They smirked and laughed. Some of them beat the roof of the bus with their hands. Others began to sing lurid songs. Shanthi blushed in embarrassment. There was no seat for her. She stood with others in the aisle. People jostling for space. Men rubbed themselves against her.
It took her 45 minutes to reach the school. She knew she was late. The assembly had begun. She rushed into the auditorium and stood at the back – hot, tired and panting. The Principal looked at her from the stage.
As Shanthi walked into the staff room after assembly, she heard the Principal’s voice on the intercom: “Miss Shanthi please report to the Principal’s office”. The principal had a lot to tell her, the crux being that teachers had responsibility and they could not afford to be late. “If teachers are late, what is the message that the children get?”
Shanthi tried to tell her that the mini van had not come to pick her up. But the principal would not listen, reminding her instead that she had arrived late 10 days that month – and it was only the 20th!
Walking back to the staff room, her face flushed with embarrassment and bitterness she felt the anger and frustation rise within her.
She gathered her books and walked to her classroom. Fifty five six-year-olds giggling and whispering stood up to wish her. “Good morning, Miss!” they sang.
She felt no joy, as she looked at the kids. “Sit,” she said not bothering to wish them back. Her body cried out with tiredness. Her eyes looked out at the kids with no kindness, no love…just indifference., may be even a kind of hatred.
She called out the names from the attendance register. Small, sweet voices answered in quick succession “Present Miss!”
“Take out your maths books.” She turned towards the blackboard to write out sums. She wrote ten sums and turned to face the class and see what they were doing.
Tariq and Sushma were talking. She threw a piece of chalk at them. They stopped and got back to their work.
Akshay looked out of the window. She was sure that he hadn’t written anything that was on the blackboard. She walked up to him and looked at the book. The page was clean. Nothing had been written on it. She hit him hard on his head with her knuckles. Tears welled up in his eyes.
In the other corner a scuffle broke out between Reshma and Ben. She rushed across, nerves on edge and very irritated. Separating them, she flung Reshma right across the classroom and pushed Ben against the wall. The child, so little and light, flew across the room, hit her head on the side of a desk and lay crumbled on the floor.
