The Scholarship Papers

How important is the time of a divorce. A divorce after all, is just that – a divorce. But she noticed that it was 10:30 by the courtroom watch, when the judge finally pronounced the divorce as through. She didn’t know what to do. It had come through rather easily, after the initial struggles, arguments, surprised looks, statements of disbelief and lectures. Everyone was against her – against the divorce. Her children, her grandchildren, her friends, the judge.

“ Mom, whats wrong with you? We are such a complete family. And after so many beautiful years that you and pa have shared. How can you do this? Its not fair – to pa, to us to yourself?” That’s how her children had argued. ‘”You must be joking Jenny? Please don’t start such stupid discussions. Let me tell you what happened at the Shaporewalla's party”, her friend Mira said. Then realizing by the look on her face that the matter was serious, she said “ Come Jenny, what’s so wrong suddenly that you want to divorce Michael. He’s been such a good husband. And he loves you. He will be devastated”

Michael himself hadn’t said anything much. He said that he was sorry. He said that if she divorced him, it would kill him. But he accepted that he was powerless to stop her. Unless she felt that she could forgive him, he could do nothing about it. He said that he was willing to talk and explain everything if she would just listen to him. But Jenny was in no mood to listen. That was the only time that they had had that discussion. She had moved out of Shishir a month ago and gone to her parents’ old bungalow.

So here she was. Sitting in a antiquated little courtroom, on a sunny December morning, with her relatives huddled in a corner around a man whom she used to call her husband, a disbelieving judge, apathetic court employees, all by herself. Divorced at 65. Free to wherever she wanted to. She collected her bunch of documents – they weren’t really important – document or no document, she was no longer Michael’s wife. Nothing on earth could alter that fact, or change her mind about it. And she wasn’t claiming any alimony. She didn’t need much. Yet, those documents were a formal proof of her feelings, her anger, against Michael.

As she walked out of the courtroom, she could feel a dozen odd eyes staring at her. Pleading eyes – that was Michael; Bewildered eyes – the judge; Hurt eyes – her son Isaiah and daughter Mary; she didn’t look at any of them. But she knew all this instinctively. She knew how each one of them felt. At this moment people were thinking she was mad and heartless – but she didn’t care. Because she had a conviction that she wasn’t either. What did people know anyways to be a judge of the situation. This divorce was an act of vindication of her – nothing more and nothing less.

Outside, her granddaughter Michelle waited for her in the taxi. Michelle was Michael’s favorite grandchild. The eldest of the lot. She resembled her grandma closest. “That’s why she is my favorite”, Michael used to say. It was only Michelle who understood and supported her grandma throughout. She didn’t need any convincing, any argument any explanation. She just understood that her grandma was right in doing what she was doing.

The taxi sauntered along the secretariat road, crossed lakdi ka pul and took the main road towards Punjagutta. At the late morning hour traffic was little and the streets were empty. “ Lets go and sit at the necklace road for sometime Michelle”, she said. That was one place on earth, which had not failed a single time in these past 45 years, to soothe her - the lawns besides Tank bund. They left the taxi at the Khairatabad crossing and walked.

Memories from the past came back to her in flashes. She could see the British Library building from here. Or rather what used to be the British library. It had moved from there long since. It was here that they had met first. That was about 40 years ago. She was a research student of microbiology at the Osmania University. Ambitious, hard working, intelligent, full of life. Michael was a software developer at Microsoft’s Hyderabad development center. He wasn’t exactly her type of man – thin, emaciated features, dark skinned, a bit of an introvert.

She tried to remember how they had become friends. Ahh! It was the book Catch 22 by Joseph Keller. She had put in a request for it and the librarian kept on saying that one Mr. Michael Alex of 3, Banjara Hills had issued it. Finally , she had decided to take matters in her hand. And thus start a chain of events that had brought her here.

Michael was a great friend to have. He was one of those, who would lay down their lives for their friends. They got along rather well from the beginning and soon found out that they were complimentary in many ways. She felt secure and fulfilled in his company. He felt happy and complete in hers. They would discuss, debate, share experiences, roam around the town or sit in a pub over beer. Jenny smiled involuntarily as those days came back to her.

And unlike her other guy friends, Michael would help her with her coursework at the university. He would sit back after office hours and dig up stuff on her research area from the Internet. He would help her with her presentations, go along to her dissertations though he understood nothing of them, and generally provide moral support. Soon she became dependent on Michael for everything.

About 6 months into their friendship, Michael proposed to her. She said she knew that he loved her. “But Michael I am not sure about myself. And I am not sure whether I want to enter into a relationship right now. I am working through my research and there are chances that I may get a fellowship to Manchester. You know that I will go, if I get it. Will something like this last if we are away from each other for two long years?”
“ Don’t worry, I will wait for you, whatever time it takes. I will wait for you to return from Manchester.” That was all he had said.

Surprisingly, this proposal and its subsequent denial didn’t affect their relation negatively. Instead they came closer. And they both wondered where it was going. “ Michael I want you to be strong enough to be able to let me go. Please don’t come so close to me. I hate to see you hurt and I know you will be hurt when I go away.” “ Don’t worry Jenny, I will handle myself. What is the point in sacrificing our today for a tomorrow that we don’t know anything about? Lets give our friendship the best we can while we can”. Michael was always good with words.

A few weeks after that, Jenny received a letter. The British-Chevening scholarships for year 2004-2005 had the name of Jennifer Dsouza, research associate, Osmania University, on the list. She had been given an all expense paid research grant for her studies in the UK. That was January 2004. She was to join her college by June 2004.

The next six months passed by in a flurry. Admission formalities, winding up work at the university, visa, shopping, tickets. Things started happening at a maddening pace. And Michael handled it all. He was there with her in everything. As if it was he who was going to the UK.

The theft happened on a Saturday afternoon. Her flight was at 10:30 am Monday morning. She had gone out to buy some last minute things. Michael had gone to Delhi for a day. He was due to return by the AP express at 7 in the evening. She had complained to him that he had to go away at this hour when their days together were numbered, but it was an emergency. And just a matter of 2 days.

As she came near her door, it struck her that something was amiss. And then she saw that the front door was slightly ajar. So Michael had given her a surprise. She ran the last few steps, threw the door ajar and was about to shout ‘Mike, u rascal!!!” but her words froze in mid-air. The whole place had been turned upside down. Things were littered across the floor. Instinctively she looked at the bed. It wasn’t there. Her briefcase – which contained all her documents, pounds, passport and travel ticket – was missing.

When Michael returned in the evening, he first threw a tantrum at her carelessness. Then he went across the town for help, police, private detectives, press, radio, he left no stone unturned. But it was all useless. The thieves had disappeared into thin air. She had anyways missed her flight. They wrote to the university explaining things. The university replied that they could extend the deadline to a maximum 15 more days, after which the research position had to be filled. They regretted the situation but couldn’t help her any further. She could try again next year.

Jenny was devastated. Black days followed, when she went without food for days. Just sitting in her room and staring out of the window. Meeting no one, doing nothing, going nowhere. And Michael, like a true friend had stood by her patiently. He helped her go through the whole thing – her depression that lasted 6 long months.

Jenny and Michael married in January 2006. It was 2 months before they went to the US, where Michael had been transferred. Life with Michael was entirely completely different from what she had thought her life to be. It had been fun alright. They had toured the world. They had enjoyed all the luxuries that they could. Two years later, Isaiah was born to them. A year after that Mary. And that had made them a happy and complete family.

But none of this was like what she had thought for her to be. She never continued her research after that. A gap of six months, then gentle pressures from Michael, followed by an involvement in the daily matters of married life, they just made her postpone her idea of studying further. Michael had always wanted her to study further, but somehow she couldn’t resume it. Somewhere in that burglary, the thieves had also stolen her will to fight back. She stopped thinking about it. Michael had moved three time in these past 35 years, and she had kept on job-hopping like a dutiful wife. That had meant no career for her. But she never really complained about it. Perhaps this was god’s will and she accepted it. But in moments of solitude, or when she saw some other woman doing well in her career, she felt a slight pain somewhere in her heart.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by Michelle’s voice. Michelle was standing in the distance talking to a friend on her cell. She couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but they were having an animated discussion. Jenny smiled; Michelle actually was her carbon copy. She looked away from her grandchild and became aware of her surroundings.

It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. A pleasant breeze floated up from the Hussainsagar and ruffled through her hairs. The undulated, grass lawns had a pleasant shade of green. The red and orange bougainvillea that lined the road, made everything look full of life and happiness. A medley of sounds came to her ears – the whirr and buzz of the traffic on the road; pedestrians talking as they walked along the footpath; hawkers selling anything from teddy bears to helmets – the usual music at tank bund. The APTDC cruise boats swam lazily on the shimmering blue surface of the lake. In the distant center she could see the statue of Buddha - that resurrected sentinel of peace that had stood there for decades now. The necklace road always made her feel good about the world – even at her present mental state.

Mental state. She laughed aloud at those words. And thought about her mental state in the past two months. From the day, on one such afternoon in late October, when she had found herself nothing to do and landed up in Michael’s den. Michael’s den was his sanctuary and even she was forbidden entry into it. But that day was very bored. And perhaps it was fate.

The den was just a collection of books and cartons. Besides a table chair and a rickety old computer, sitting besides the window. She began rummaging the cartons, hoping to find some interesting magazines. Instead she uncovered a pile of old albums and unsorted photographs. Ad promptly decided what she would do through the afternoon. All the cartons were brought out into the hall. Slowly and laboriously, she emptied each carton and began sorting out things – books, photographs, greeting cards, Isaiah and Mary’s school reports. It was all usual junk that a household could accumulate in 40 years.
Finally, she came to the last carton, and she almost decided against opening it. But curiosity, and the idea that she should complete the task, got better of her. There was a single bundle in it. Wrapped in newspapers and polythenes. It was evidently very old and hadn’t been opened in years. As she removed the newspapers, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. The newspapers were all about 40 years old.

And then finally she held them in her hands, her passport, old pound notes, a yellowed air ticket, it was all there. Exactly in the order that she had arranged them all those years ago. Thos missing papers that had altered her whole life and destroyed her career. Tears flooded her eyes as she realized the meaning of it all. It was then that she had decided that she could no longer stay with Michael.

Michelle walked up to her grandma with two cups of coffee. Both women sat besides each other sipping coffee in that breezy, sunny afternoon, by the lake. “ Tell me grannammy, do you hate grandpa completely? Wouldn’t you go back to him even for old times sake? Won’t you forgive him, because he’s been such a nice husband throughout?”

Jenny smiled back. “ You know Michelle, Mrs. Alex can somehow forgive Mr. Alex. But she will never forgive him for what he did to a young girl called Jennifer, 40 years ago. And she cant live with a man who in her eyes is a cheater.