Innocent Tears.

 I saw my cousin sister Nirmala for the first time in her marriage. She was my uncle's daughter. I was hardly ten years old. I remembered this occasion as my father acted as bride's father and fulfilled his duty of giving her in marriage. It was a surprise for me.  Till then I was not aware that I had an uncle, my father's elder brother. I did not see my cousin sister for many years after her marriage. Once when I was coming from Delhi, she waited for me at the station. I could not guess how she got to know of my arrival. After asking questions about my health, with tears flowing in her eyes, she asked the same question, that till then no one had given answer to. It was like a mountain of frozen tears melting. "Why my father had left my mother and me?". I saw the weight of 50 years of her sadness in her voice and in her face. She continued 'Brother,   how is that no one knows where he is? ' I was also moved to tears.  Her voice trembled and her lips quivered with the emotions welling up in her throat.

This was the question I had been asking as often as I thought my father's elder brother, who I have never seen. He, unlike my father had a respectable job in commercial tax office and my father told me that he was a straight forward man, honest and fearless. I developed a liking for that image, for I never saw even his photograph in the house. Whenever I raised the subject among my relations, there was only silence for an answer.

              Many years ago, I heard from my father that his brother left his wife and his only child and disappeared without trace on a moonless rainy.

              Whenever I asked a question or two, about my uncle, my father seemed to evade giving answers and chose only to say that he was not aware of his whereabouts.  It appeared to me from his expression that he was suppressing something but he was not worried. His brother must be alive I presumed.

              My mother revealed discreetly that my father had once met his brother in Cuddlore. Curiosity got the better of me once when I spoke to my father about this meeting.  He said 'I met him at the station. We spoke for a few minutes and he advised me not to come and meet him."

              I asked my father "You met him after 20 years and returned without bringing him back?". He said 'Yes, I called him to come with me, but he refused. He also told me not to come again. This meeting was over in few minutes". I could not reconcile with this 'story' of a short meeting between long lost brothers, if ever there was one. The question 'Why' remained. Sometimes I thought that my father had no love lost for his more successful brother. Some times I felt that my father was hiding something from me. I did not press for more information. He would have lied.

              This was lingering in my mind for many years.  I could not understand that how could my father did not care to bring his brother.  I hated my father for being a heartless man. What could be the one thing that could stop a man from returning to his wife, child, brothers and sisters. I was not mature enough to guess an answer.

               I met my cousin sister again after 10 years. She seemed to be calm and composed. She was now 60 years. I had lunch in her house. The pain in her eyes, visible during my earlier meetings seemed to have lessened. She seemed to be weary and distant.

 

                Later, she told me that she had found out that her father deserted her mother and married someone else. She also told me that her father was in love with one of his colleagues and ran away with her.

                My sister's mother either did not know or knew, but not revealed the truth that would hurt them both. My cousin sister also told me that if she knew this earlier, she would not have grieved for over 50 years.  She stopped worrying about her father.  Someone very casually had revealed, after hearing her long wailing that had become so unbearable to him, of her father's betrayal. Why she should have cried and shed tears for a such a man? It was a closure.

               But many questions remained with me from that day. Why none of those who knew the events, did not tell this innocent girl? I could only make a guess. It could be about my cousin sister's birth. Like darkness beneath the light. Only she did not know.

              I did not share my doubts with her. I did not want to meet her again for the fear that I would give any hint. It is better to hate a cruel father, than to know he was not her father.