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'To be disowned is to be dismembered...'

Continued from the past EPISODE…

Chapter 1 [Part II]

Pretty interesting! said Mother. But you see… I haven’t had the mind to sing lullabies for this little girl.

Why o why is that?

Didn’t quite have the mind to!

But why?

You know our squalid conditions. Already three girl children, and you know how difficult it is and how expensive it is to have a girl child. Even passers-by who frequent our streets these past few days, seem to cast a desolate and sympathetic look on our verandah, whenever they pass this way! Such is the ignominy that’s befallen us! said my rattled Mother, not knowing how she’s going to tide over this tedious crisis that was looming large over her family circumstances.

Mr. Patterson was pensive!

Mrs. Jennifer Patterson had always known that, whenever her husband was on pensive mode, he was about to take some huge decisions – summoning his gut feelings to his advantage!

Yet again, right here at his brother-in-law’s house, he was being coaxed continuously by his conscience to summon up his gut feelings for the sake of this little girl who was straight on the verge of being Disowned by her Father and Mother.

‘How can someone be so damn rude and crude to their own begotten child?’ muttered Mr. Patterson, even as he was casting a nonchalant look towards the direction of the baby’s mother.

If only she knows how much it would affect the child’s little heart when the child comes to know that she was disowned by her own Mother and Father.

Rambling, indignant thoughts of all hues began to cloud around Mr. Patterson’s mind, when Mother soon stopped his thought-process on its tracks and said,

I’d be glad if some good soul of our own community offers to take it with them and adopt her!

Mr. Patterson corrected her – Oh! But for God’s sake, please don’t say, ‘It’. She’s got a dignified pronoun of her own as well!

Mother retorted, ‘But that doesn’t make much of a difference to us!’

Mr. Patterson could feel the air of insolence all around the place, which made him all the more uncomfortable.

Mother continued, ‘Annan, I’m being serious. Why don’t you find us some good soul to give this baby out in adoption’.

Are you sure you want to give her on adoption?

‘By all means an emphatic yes from our side’, said Father, even as he bent down and stroked the tiny curly hair of his fourth not-so-wanted girl child!

A girl child is good tidings! A girl child is the most sweetest gift that a family could be blessed with. A girl child is the most joyous…

Well, you may stop your preaching, and put your words to action, if you are really serious on having yet another girl child, said Mother.

This was a windfall of an offer that was too good to resist!

Mr. Patterson had already made up his mind! Now the time was really ripe to walk the talk!

‘Yes, I gladly do!’ said Mr. Patterson.

Wait! But before you ‘gladly’ take her, we have three important conditions to be met!

First and foremost – We need the express written consent of the two of you – you and your wife for all legal purposes.

Secondly – You should give an undertaking that, you will never come back here asking for a penny more from us for raising her up.

Finally, all marriage expenses for this girl child should be borne by you. Not a penny from our side.

Mr. Patterson, with a genial smile on his face, asked, ‘Are there any more conditions to be met? Do tell me about them. I shall gladly agree to them as well!’

Yes, there are a few more, added Father, when Mother interrupted and said, ‘Enough! This would do! If you can sign on the dotted line, agreeing to these three important conditions, then the child is yours forever - from this very next moment onwards…’ So saying, she extended a glass of tea to her brother-in-law – Mr. Patterson.

Mr. Patterson gently declined the offer saying, ‘I don’t take tea. Thank you anyways’.

Mr. Patterson was a coffee person. His morning brew was his one sweet stimulant that sustained his entire day for him. He also had this knack of developing a quick rapport with coffee people in no time. In short, he was a ‘Professor Higgins’ at all things coffee.

‘I can spot a coffee person quite effortlessly, even miles away’, was his usual refrain, whenever he started his sermonizing on his daily brew. Even a slight glance at a coffee person anywhere around him, his heart fluttered away happily, at the delightful company.  His soul thirsted after such people like the deer panting after the brooks!

After declining the tea, Mr. Patterson was alert to the huge decision he had to take! A decision that was to alter and affect his own little family in a huge way.

Without much ado, his pensiveness gave way to his pronouncement: “Yes! I shall take the child under our custody! I shall also abide by all your conditions”.

Father heaved a sigh of relief, and so did Mother.

A sigh that relieved them of their responsibilities – responsibilities that in the first instance, would not have accrued if only they had gone for some OCPs or at least for the Intra-Uterine Contraceptive Devices after their first three girl children were born - I had thought quite often.

This accidental me could have been averted. This mishap could have been avoided!

Father unabashedly used to call me an ‘accident’ on this planet, every other hour of the day.  

Mother for once concurred with him on that.

You should have been a bit more careful! Yeh?

Me! You expect me to be careful? You are such a sweet crook I tell you! Can you recollect what happened on that ill-fated night? It was your fault, not mine.

You should have said ‘No’ then!

Ah! You expect me to say a ‘No’ to you? My imperious rake who can never take a ‘No’ for an answer.

Why not?

Remember that night? I was busy cooking away happily in the kitchen, when you came from behind, hugged me tight, and then started to…

Enough! So you mean to say that I’m to blame for this accident.

A hundred times – yes! I had already told you about ways and means to avoid ‘accidents’ like this one. You should have listened to me and then chosen the most appropriate day for your ravishing!

What’s happened has happened! Please let’s not talk about it anymore. I only wish that we give her away before the entire town starts talking about her.

You mean to say, ‘We should give her away in adoption to Mr. Patterson?’

Yes! adoption or charity. But disown her as fast we could, before the rumour mills start working overtime around our family’s reputation.

And in a week’s time, I was officially disowned by Father and Mother.

To be disowned is to be dismembered.

To be disowned is to be fragmented.

To be fragmented is to stripped of one’s sense of belonging.

To be stripped of one’s sense of belonging is to lose one’s sense of purpose and meaning in life.

To be disowned hence is the most odious thing that could befall a child – especially to a girl child.

To be disowned then is to refuse to acknowledge as one’s own, refuse any connection or identification with, and cutting off all contact with them.

The Fourth of July – the day when I was officially disowned by my Father, Mother and their children, and passed on ‘gladly’ to a new family – the Singhs of Murugankurichi.

The day I transitioned into a new role – as an adopted little girl child – in a new house.

Everything was new about Murugankurichi.

Everything was new about my newly acquired Appa & Amma and brother and sister.

As the days went by, the new and strange environment started opening up to my arrival, and the strange became the familiar.

House slowly became home.

Appa [my step-father, henceforth Appa] was a maverick! An iconoclast of the highest order. Amma was just the opposite – a moderate! A much conservative woman, who was always draped in her eight-yard voile saree all 24-hours a day. She never believed in the modern value system of changing to ‘nighty mode’ when at home. In short, a staunch stickler to tradition was Amma.

My newfound siblings were quite in awe when they first saw me. An initial hesitance quick changed to acceptance. Very soon I found company in their solace and love.

Peter the elder – five years older than me - was my favourite. He would always confide things only to me. Be it the candy bars that he steals discreetly from the neighbourhood bunk, or his fondness for the girl in the adjacent street, who was a year senior to him or… the little impy mischiefs he does in his class with his bevy of friends, I was always his first and only confidante! Jane was his younger by one year. Jane was strikingly like her Amma – quite calm, composed and serious in demeanour. She was always a seeker of the spiritual.

As for me, I was neither a sinner not a saint! Between the sinner and the saint if ever there were a liminal line of liberation – I was ensconced therein, quite happily at that – something of the stargirl types.

Appa had a few odd quirks on him, which was to impact me so greatly in my later days.

Appa’s fascination for books and magazines really had a cascading effect on me. Especially the impy ones and erotic stuff like Gladrags, Playboy, Fantasy, Debonair etc, - Adult magazines with nude and semi-nude models, that were feasts for youngsters and oldsters alike – that were sneaked discreetly deep within the wardrobe, far away from the prying eyes of our conservative Amma.

Appa’s fascination for books and his fondness for me, made me emulate him in every way! He became from then on, my icon. My role model. Appa also had a deep shrill voice that woke us up every morning. Appa’s shrill, yawpy voice, and Amma’s coffee made our mornings every other day.

One wintry December evening, it so happened that, Appa had placed me on his lap, and he was busy engrossed in showing me a story book filled with illustrations; he was then trying to explain the illustrations to me in his own sweet style, when…

Amma came up angry to him and said, ‘Have you ever done this to Jane? Have you ever tried explaining all these illustrations to her at least once?

Appa couldn’t control the embarrassment that had suddenly unfolded. It was a surprise blow that he hadn't in the least expected. 

He had somehow come to understand that Amma was nursing a grudge. A huge grudge. It didn’t take long for Appa to gauge the reason for the grudge.

Without having consulted with her, Appa had ‘gladly’ nodded in agreement to adopt me into their family.

Do you think we are better off than them? What made you nod your head to their request? As if money grows on trees.

From morning, Peter has been playing around, and you never once cared to take him on your lap. This girl popped up from nowhere, and here you are, all devotion to her, forgetting that you have a daughter of your own! Your first daughter, said Amma – Mrs. Evelyn Singh!

Appa’s predicament was much akin to an embarrassed rabbit caught in front of the neon-lights!

To be continued on Monday… 24th October 2022. 



This post first appeared on My Academic Space, please read the originial post: here

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'To be disowned is to be dismembered...'

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