No one knew Mishrain's name .
Neither us , her confidantes . Nor my grandmother , who knew everyone's names in the village . I doubt if her demented husband , who laid beneath the peepul , talking to the birds , with his loose pyjama strings ,and drool trickling down his chin knew , in his heyday , that is .
I have serious doubts if that name , existed , ever .
For she was Mishrain , the wife of Mishra , for all and sundry .
Her identity , forever linked to a man , now a shell of a being , barking at the dogs , and howling in sync with them , at nightfall .
He was tied to the tree trunk , from his wrists . His several , some successful ,attempts , at running away berserk , having been thwarted by friendly townspeople . He was rescued , on five different occasions , in various degrees of dishevelment and bewilderment . Always , he would be brought , or rather , dragged back , raggedy and filthy , looking totally confused , shouting garbled curses .
Mishrain did not have the resources to get him treated at a fancy hospital .
She only knew that her husband was alive , and that he was her moon , and her stars , her morning , her night , her Shiva , her Krishna , the reason behind her fasts , the sindur in her scalp , the bindi on her forehead , and her general existence .
Everytime he returned , Mishraji was greeted by a mohalla of wailing women , who silenced up immediately , broke off , patted Mishrain on the back and departed hastily .
I remember many a gathering dark of sudden rural nightfall , clinging fearfully to my grandmother's saree , as this man was brought in , howling and shrieking . In my kids' eyes , he was nothing short of a monster , who made Mishrain's life hell by being the thoughtless wretch he had become .
Only later when education had opened our eyes somewhat , I began appreciating the difference medical help made to psychiatric patient's life .
A few young men kept him back , from the brink of mortal peril .
One day he was rescued , after he made himself comfortable on the bitterly cold of parallel railway tracks ; on another occasion , he was discovered begging for food in some unknown part of the city . Twice he was rescued from the police lock up .
In short , he was a menace , when free .
So , the youngsters kept an eye on him , and helped Mishrain , tie him up to the peepul tree during the day .
At nightfall , Mishrain untied him , while he stared at her , stranger fashion , with bloodshot eyes , muttering swear words .
Then she took him into their tiny two room house next to the tree , and locked the door behind her .
Once away from the prying , and largely indifferent eyes of the world , she bathed him with well water drawn by her own hands , scrubbed him clean , applied liniments on his chafed wrists , combed his hair, clothed him and fed him .
How she achieved this , in a violent , madman , is a testimony to Mishrain's devotion to him and her unwavering faith in the Lord .
Only then would Mishrain , who survived on few cups of tea throughout the day , would permit herself to eat . Only when her "Shiva " had been fed . In some grotesque twist of rituals , she put him , a demented , crazed person , before her own needs . As luck would have it , Mishraji's first name was Mahadev , which is a synonym for Lord Shiva . True to his nature , as it were , Shiva , in this case , was both the maker , and destroyer of Mishrain's life , peace and well being .
His shrieks and abuses , plus his desire and ability to wreck Mishrain's immaculately kept household would necessitate the aforementioned tethering of Mishraji .
Another important reason was the proximity of the village temple , the erstwhile workplace of Mishraji . The devotees came in a steady stream , and were scared of and by Mishraji . As the offerings were shared by the new Pundit , a successor of Mishraji , the temple was also a source of Mishrain's meagre income. Enough to keep the soul and body together .Hence it was important that Mishraji doesn't interrupt the proceedings .
The festival days were the worst .
When the celebrations , extended into the nights , and Mishrain , would flutter helplessly , between the Shiva statue in the temple , and her Shiva tethered to the tree outside , nearly naked , filthy and hungry .
One cold February night , when the cattle were still being covered in gunny sacks , and Lord Shiva was to be married at the stroke of midnight , Mishrain , sat huddled in the corner of her room , praying for Shiva to help her , getting steadily hypoglycemic , almost to the point of passing out .
Around 1130 pm , a huge uproar from the outside woke up Mishrain , and sighing , she prayed to the Lord to save her and Himself .
Mishrain peeked out into the now deserted road , to see the Peepul tree fallen . It was an old and dried up tree , but for an emaciated madman to have pulled it down like that , it must have required superhuman energy .
Next , there was a huge commotion from the temple premises . Peaceful lilting bhajans were replaced by shouts and screams.
Mishrain rushed to the temple . Suddenly , everything seemed to be happening in slow motion .
All else was blurred , just a naked madman , who had flung himself at the massive granite Shivling , his skull cracked , and a stream of blood gushing out onto the marigold and bel leaf strewn path . His arms held the Shivling in a bear hug .
Mishrain let out a sigh like high pitched sound and crumpled at the gates .
Both of them passed away that fateful day .
Mishraji due to severe head injury and Mishrain , due to prolonged hypoglycemia and shock .
Both their photographs were procured from distant relatives and framed and hung inside the temple . An impromptu canonisation of sorts elevated the long suffering couple to the status of Gods. They were worshipped with garlands and tikkas of chandan applied on an ancient , sepia tinted likeness of their younger selves . Both are smiling in the black and white photo.
"Possibly taken at their wedding " , my grandmother would declare sagely .
Few years passed , and their home was put up on sale by the new Pundit . That was when a plastic folder of old documents were dug up in the beaten earth floor . They were possibly , intentionally buried by Mishrain , to keep them from getting misplaced in a crazy household .
The most interesting find was Mishrain's first name . She was called "Uma".
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