Monday, March 29, 2010


This is the story that has to be retold.
So I will try to lay bare the monologue that was passed to me .Which means this short piece will be in third person and that in itself might leave most of the foretold story not repeated here, and may even invite your imagination and inferences.

He began, “The cruelest thing one can do to her is to portray her as a perfection of virtue”.
To me the statement was quite familiar to a extract in some book I read long ago. But I let him continue.” In her childhood the grains of deceit, and selfishness were sown. In fact she was born with the diabolic gene. And circumstances, penchant and craving for all that were sybarite beckoned her to the distant city. Though she, to get purchase over her low middle income parents purportedly devised a story that they bought with some whimper and beamon.That she has endeavored on the journey to shoulder responsibilities for them. In fact the stark reality was that she was not content with the Spartan and archaic life in that tiny village”.  

I wondered loudly if those were not the times when women were not let out of home without a proper escort. “True” he said, “Kiran Bedi had not passed out of the University and was not a cop yet. But to equate her to the extraordinary persona of that lady Kiran Bedi would be blasphemous”.
He continued” she was restless and ambitious. And from very early in her life in the metropolis she migrated to, she learned that if she can be pliable she can conquer the world .She did spent many of her early days in the metropolis with meager subsistence food. But she learned fast. And evolved fast into a creature that would dwarf Lady Macbeath and Matahari put together”.

“She excels in falsehood, and is person par excellence in the art of debauchery. Even if it is her kin she is ruthlessly excellent in decimating anything that and anybody who can say nay to her. She has the charm and suave countenance that will snow under any person who has not felt her witch craft.”

Your soliloquy about this creature reminds me of the song ‘devil woman’, I interrupted.

“She had and still has an uncanny way with men” he continued.. And like ‘may- flies ‘to a beacon they flocked to her. She could move with ease from placements to placements. And sooner than she imagined she could make her parents nitwits and pliable to her whims. She noticed with passion and impudence that money talks and also can silence with macabre slight.

But did she try to carve a life for her, a life perhaps which she can take refuge to when age catches up, or as it is said in her faith ,’when the day of reckoning’ come? I enquired.

 “Well she did try and almost succeeded, but….! But she could never be content or satisfied neither physically nor materially.And it is said that goes to this day.She had this fascinating but chilling and goulash acumen to foresee, she trusted no one! The ‘may –flies’ swarm in plenty and she handled them with deftness and finesse .Her wedlock to one such proved to be shorter than the average in Hollywood. .He parted, it is alleged because he wouldn’t father an obnoxious. Nevertheless she exulted in a bigger catch. That was no may- fly, it was a big fish that fell to her wiles. But the big fish had different ideas and it was no fish, but a shark. And eventually after a few years it weaned her away with ease and vehemence. She bitterly began to learn that her wiles and trappings were losing its sting”.

What about her parents and siblings back home in the village? I asked.
“Well” he continued, “she did throw tit-bits at them. And since she wielded the power of wealth she made, lips were sewn together and there was no sort of dissenting voices. She would give away as long as she can silence the other and as long as she knows for certain that some body can be bought. And also that she can use the taker as her door mat. She built about her an air of sacrifice and forsake. She perpetuated seemingly though the shadow of renunciation. But  many who were awed by her debonair and skills saw that she extracts a far too highly disproportionate pound of flesh in return, and that destroys lives. She carefully cultivated the charm of the faithful and the fearing. The society was led to believe so. It is also said that in spite of their conservative God fearing, background, her parents conveniently chose not to disapprove of her doings, though they were not dunderhead enough to not see through the mirage.

“This gives quite a picture which is difficult; for me to fathom. And with origins from a family with leanings on tradition this diabolic character is hard to masticate”, .I expressed my sickness about the short story so far. .“So then are we reaching the end of the Greek play”? I added.

“The drama has not run its full course yet. And I’m not a clairvoyant to look at the crystal globe and tell without an iota of uncertainty what would be in store to the end. But there is something I would like to add. She will not let others enjoy the goodness of life if destiny denies her them. She has in various ways of artifice routed the lives of almost all her siblings. They do not have the peace and contentment which she could not have .But some of them are too clever to be doleful about that. Money can buy what character cannot! .She diabolically acts spoiler. And with subterfuge she tries to hold on to her matriarchy.”

This brief gives me a creepy feeling, the kind of feel I got after reading the Bram Stalker or the ‘Magician’ of Somerset Maugham. But then if destiny refused her something, she perhaps in her most solitary moments would rue, it must be only because of her deeds. As they say “chickens will come to roost”. I said. I do not believe in providential justice of retribution but yet I wished it played its natural part in her life.


Ashok Menath said...

All stories must be told and retold. Seriously, you should pursue this and not dub it as a hobby. It was an excellent narrative though some editing could have made it pithier.

Now, whoever could the protagonist of this tale be, I am tempted to paraphrase Groucho Marx: "She looks like Matahari and acts like Matahari. Let this not deceive you, she really is Matahari".

About Bram 'Stalker':

I know that it is a typo and no pun intended. Nonetheless it is quite true that he 'stalks' week kneed readers like me even today!!

anilkurup said...

There are quite some Mataharis' stalking us in the society. And they are not stereo typed in appearance. They can be well dressed, talk and move about like Angels .; And the protagonist in the tale is one such.
Even the Creator himself will be fooled.

Abdul Wahab said...

Going through your old Blog "MATA HARI", today, I would like to mAke a few comments About your MATA HARI.

Mata Hari was a German spy. She was a loyal subject of her monarch, Kaiser Wilhelm II. She became a spy for her king and country.

Calling your character, MATA HARI, you heap insult (maybe unknowingly) to a patriotic German citizen.

Reading between the lines, I find that your female character was no spy but only a gold digger, which she found out for herself, as she hopped from bed to bed, to make good her fortune, enjoying life as she did. But she led her, seemingly not too bright, parents and siblings that whatever she did was ONLY to see that they enjoyed a good and prosperous life (not to be mistaken for a decent life). This is the lie she would have persuaded them to believe. They, in turn, pretended to believe her! They knew on which side the bread had the butter! Ostrich-like behaviour came naturally to them.

But, as the Bible says,in Galatians VI (King James Version): "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."