Compensation
Nimi Kurian
2 September 2009, 16:55The bus stood in the small space between the shops in the market. The wheels were missing and the bus had sunk into the mud. Grass had begun to grow inside the bus. The rexine covered had long since been ripped off. Every movable part of the bus had been taken away. The body of the bus had begun to rust. Sometimes at night, especially when it rained, drunks occupied the bus. So there was litter – of empty liquor bottles and old food packets. It was an eyesore in the otherwise picturesque village setting. People who went past muttered angrily. But no one complained about it lying there. Everyone was embarrased.
Bharati sat outside her small house waiting for her husband to return. He had gone to the city to deliver some vegetables. They were a big rage now, these organic vegetables. And just a basket full of them could fetch a fancy prize – enough to take them through the rest of the week.
Living in the village had its perks. They had a nice small house, not much of a compound around it. But it was sufficient for the two of them. The front door was barely 10 feet from the gate. Between the compound wall and the house was a small piece of land. Bharati grew a curry leaf tree, and on a small patch some herbs like coriander, mint and tulsi. At the back she had planted a guava tree, a mango tree and a lemon tree. The field which her husband tilled was further away and there he grew tomatoes, brinjal, ladies finger, pumpkin, snake gourd and many other vegetables.
Actually things picked up after they had a visit from a man who called himself a consultant. He advised them not to spray their vegetables with pesticides and use chemical fertilizer. Instead he taught them to grow ‘organic’ crops. All they had to do was follow his advise, cultivate, then take the crop to the consultant and they would pay for it. Bharati’s husband was very happy with the arrangement. So every week he went to the city to deliver the produce.
It was almost 5 o’clock and Bharati waited. He was normally home by 4, but then she was not worried. Sometimes the bus broke down. So she continued to sit on her front door step catching the evening sun, and talking to the people passing by.
Then she heard the sound of someone running. It was Venkatesh from the grocery store.
“Akka! Akka!” he shouted, “Annan met with an accident. He is seriously hurt. Come quickly.”
Bharati’s mind went blank. She rushed out of the house. Venkatesh filled her in with the details as they went to the bus stop.
“Annan was standing in the bus stop, when suddenly this bus came at great speed and hit him. It was very unfortunate. It was in fact a freak accident. The driver lost control of the bus, it seems. The people standing close by rushed him to the hospital. He is there now. They got my number from his mobile phone and called me.”
Bharati could not cry. She felt a great weight inside her head, the heart seemed heavy but she could not cry. Her body responded with silence. She was stunned by what she was hearing.
“It cannot be true,” she thought in her mind. “He said he would be back in the evening. It must be someone else.”
It took another couple of hours for Venkatesh and her to reach the hospital. The staff at the hospital were kind.
“Please come this way,” they said. “It was very unfortunate. By the time he was brought here, he was dead.”
Bharati heard these words as if from a distance. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with her. She just listened and followed the staff nurse as she took her along the corridor. Venkatesh was with her, and he kept glancing at her. He was worried as she had not uttered a word. She just followed him, glassy eyed and in a daze.
When they showed Bharati the body of the husband, she sighed. She could not feel anything. Her mind was blank, her heart was heavy.
The next couple of days were busy with arranging for the body to be taken back to the village, the funeral and everything else. Of course, Bharati did not have to do anything. Not that she was capable of doing anything. Bharati felt she was watching everything from afar. It was like watching a movie.
Days later everything had quietened down. All the relations who had descended in hordes to weep for Bharati’s husband had gone back. Bharati was now, alone. She had lost track of time and day. She slept whenever she felt like it. Ate whenever she felt hungry. She hadn’t cooked in ages. Neighbours and friends brought her food.
A month later, Bharati had a visitor. He came from the city. He wore a black coat and spoke very well. He was polite and sounded intelligent. He explained to Bharati that what had happened to her husband was unfortunate. He told her that it was important Bharati fight for her right.
“Fight for my right?” asked Bharati. “Why should I fight? My husband is dead, and now there is nothing left for me…”
“Exactly madam. Exactly. Who caused you this much loss? Who took away all that you had? Who is it that created this great greif in your life?”
“Who? That is my karma, is it not?”
“Oh no no no!” laughed the man. “This is the talk of the ignorant. Your troubles were caused by the transport department. And it is with them that you should fight.”
After many visits and many talks, Bharati was finally convinced that she had to fight. Slowly she began to take interest in life again. Accompanied by some youngster or the other from the village she would go to the city and meet the man – she now knew he was a lawyer.
Finally one day, the lawyer told her that her case had come up in the court. Bharati dressed simply in an old cotton saree and accompanied by Venkatesh from the grocery store appeared in court.
Her lawyer was there, brimming with happiness and confidence. The morning dragged on and it was early afternoon when her case was finally called. The whole thing happened very fast. Too fast, thought Bharati, her lawyer spoke, then another gentleman spoke. And that continued for a time. Then the judge looked up and announced that Bharati be compensated for a sum of Rs. Five lakhs.
“Five lakhs!” thought Bharati. She was rather surprised. “Five lakhs! With that in the bank I can live my life comfortably. I need not worry about money anymore. But no amount of money can compensate for the life of my husband.”
Anwyay, she went back happy. The lawyer too was happy. With the money awarded now he was assured of a huge fee.
Months passed but the money did not come through. Bharati had given up waiting. At times she thought that the lawyer had taken all the money. At other times she thought it had all been a joke.
Then one day, the lawyer reappeared. “Madam, you have not received your money. We cannot let this pass. We must go on appeal.”
So once again, Bharati found herself in court. But this time she was more confident. She looked around and watched the people there. She listened to the arguments. And then it was time for her case.
The judge ruled that since the compensatory amount had not been paid, it asked that the bus from the transport department be impounded and given to Bharati in lieu of the money!
“What a strange decision,” thought Bharati. “ What am I to do with a bus! Where will I keep a bus?”
