The Shelter - R K Narayan

The Shelter The rain came down suddenly.
The only shelter he could run to was the banyan tree on the roadside, with its huge trunk and the spreading boughs above. He watched, with detachment, the rain patter down with occasional sprays coming in his direction. He watched idly a mongrel trotting off, his coat completely wet, and a couple of buffaloes on the roadside eating cast-off banana leaves. He suddenly became aware of another person standing under the tree, beyond the curve of the tree trunk. A faint scent of flower wafted towards him, and he could not contain his curiosity; he edged along the tree trunk, and suddenly found himself face to face with her. His first reaction was to let out a loud Oh! and he looked miserable and confused. The lady saw him and suppressed a scream. When he had recovered his composure, he said, Dont worry, I will go away. It seemed a silly thing to say to ones wife after a long separation. He moved back to his previous spot away from her. But presently he came back to ask, What brought you here? He feared she might not reply, but she said, Rain. Oh! He tried to treat it as a joke and please her by laughing. It brought me also here, he said, feeling idiotic. She said nothing in reply. The weather being an ever-obliging topic, he tried to cling to it desperately and said, Unexpected rain. She gave no response to his remark and looked away. He tried to drag on the subject further. If I had had the slightest suspicion of its coming, I would have stayed indoors or brought my umbrella. She ignored his statement completely. She might be deaf for all it mattered. He wanted to ask, Are your ears affected? but feared that she might feel irritated. She was capable of doing anything when upset. He had never suspected the strength of her feelings until that night of final crisis. They had several crises in their years of married life. Every other hour they expressed differing views on everything under the sun; every question precipitated a crisis, none to be trivial to be ignored. It might be anything whether to listen to Radio Ceylon or All India Radio, whether one should see an English picture or a Tamil one, whether jasmine smell might be termed too strong or otherwise, a rose could be termed gaudy or not, and so forth. Anything led to an argument and created tension, and effected a breach between the partners for a number of days, to be followed by a reconciliation and an excessive friendliness. In one such mood of reconciliation they had even drawn an instrument of friendship with elaborate clauses, and signed it before the gods in the puja room with a feeling that nothing would bother them again and that all their troubles were at an end. But it was short-lived and the very first clause of the contract, We shall never quarrel hereafter, was the first to be broken within twenty-four hours of signing the deed, and all the other clauses, which covered such possible causes of difference as household expenses, criticism of food, budget discussions, references to in-laws (on all of which elaborate understanding had been evolved), did not mean anything. Now standing in the rain he felt happy that she was cornered. He had had no news of her after she had shut the door on her that night as it seemed so long ago. They had argued over the food as usual, she threatened to leave the home, and he said, Go ahead, and held the door open while she had walked out into the night. He left the door unbolted for a long time in the belief that she would return, but she didnt. I didnt hope to see you again, he ventured to say now and she answered, Did you think I would go and drown myself? Yes, that I feared, he said. Did you look for me in the nearby wells, or ponds? Or the river? he added. I didnt. It would have surprised me if you had had so much concern. He said, You didnt drown yourself after all, how could you blame me for not looking for you? He appealed to her pathetically. She nearly stamped her foot as she said, That only shows you have no heart. You are very unreasonable, he said.
Oh, God, you have started giving a reading of my character. It is my ill fate that the rain should have come down just now and driven me over here. On the contrary, I think it is a good rain. It has brought us together. May I now ask what you have been doing with yourself all this time? Should I answer? He detected in her voice a certain amount of concern and he felt flattered. Could he induce her to come back to him? The sentence almost formed itself at the tip of his tongue but he thrust it back. Arent you concerned with my own lot? Dont you care to know what I have been doing with myself all these months? She didnt reply. She simply watched the rain pouring down more than ever. The winds direction suddenly changed and a gust flung a spray of water on her face. He treated it as an excuse to dash up to her with his kerchief. She recoiled from his approach. Dont bother about me, she cried. You are getting wet. A bough above shook a few drops on her hair. He pointed his finger anxiously and said, You are getting drenched unnecessarily. You could move down a little this way. If you like I will stand where you are. He expected her to be touched by this solicitude. She merely replied, You need not worry about me. She stood grimly looking at the rain as it churned up the road. Shall I dash up and bring an umbrella or a taxi? he asked. She merely glared at him and turned away. He said something else on the same lines and she asked, Am I your toy? Why do you say toy? I said no such thing. You think you can pick me up when you like and throw me out when you feel that way. Only toys are treated thus. I never told you to go away, he said. I am not listening to any of that again, she said. I am probably dying to say how sorry I am, he began. May be, but go and say that to someone else. I have no one else to say such things to, he said. That is your trouble, is it? she asked. That doesnt interest me. Have you no heart? he pleaded. When I say I am sorry, believe me. I am changed now. So am I, she said. I am not my old self now. I expect nothing in others and I am never disappointed, she said. Wont you tell me what you are doing? he pleaded. She shook her head. He said, Someone said that you were doing harijan work or some such thing. See how I am following your activities! She said nothing in reply. He asked, Do you live all the time here or? It was plan that he was trying to get her address. She threw a glance at the rain, and then looked at him sourly. He said, Well, I didnt order the rain anyway. We have got to face it together. Not necessarily. Nothing can hold me thus, she said, and suddenly dashed into the rain and broke into a run. He cried after her, Wait, wait. I promise not to talk. Come back, dont get drenched, but she was off, vanishing beyond the curtain of raindrops. R. K. Narayan

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The Shelter The rain came down suddenly.

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