The orange glow shimmering on the Cauvery waters seemed to reflect the flames rather than the setting sun. The flames were still burning strong inside me. The boatman had already stopped rowing and let the current carry the boat downstream at a gentle pace. He struck a match to light his beedi and I could make out his rough face in the flash of light. It was just like the face of Anthony when I first saw him on the river ferry. It is strange how this river has been a silent witness to most of the significant events in my life. I lifted my chin from the knees to hear my father calling out, "Veena, do not dip your hand into the water!" I could picture myself in my pigtails and my schoolbag sitting at the edge of the boat and leaning over the tip to feel the cool water rushing against my hand. My father was always very protective. I was never out of his sight or earshot when he was around. I could not go beyond Lakshmi's house when I wanted to play hopscotch or dress up my dolls and play house. He would occasionally call out my name to make sure I did not disappear. He liked hearing my voice from the street, "I am here Appa!"
The street was very narrow with tall walls lining both sides. Most houses were built in a previous generation and the walls were dark green with a mixture of moss and the black dust. Each house had a short door, opening out onto the street where the ladies would lounge when the men were at work. The stone benches next to each door served as the setting for the display of saris and bangles by the street vendors as the ladies stood around gossiping. In the evening the same stones would serve as meeting places for the mensfolk who would discuss politics and smoke their beedis. After Sathemma saw me with Anthony in the mango orchard, the ladies exchanged furtive glances and reduced their voices to whispers when I passed the crowd.
The crowds were a perennial sight in the morning and evening near the dock. The ferry was full in the morning with men rushing to their jobs, kids strolling to their schools and farmers scrambling to the markets. Our village was across the river from the town where most villagers worked and all kids went to school. I have been taking the same ferry since I was 5 years old. In the beginning, it was always with someone older accompanying me. I remember the first time I was allowed to go on my own to the school with my friend Lakshmi. Soon I used to walk over to the dock alone and take the ferry. I liked getting lost in my thoughts for almost an hour that it used to take for the trip across. Sometimes I used to stay back in school late so that I could take the later ferry on my own. It was on one of those trips that Anthony had seen me.
Anthony was the son of the pastor of the church in our village. I remembered that he was always wild. He used to skip school and hang around with the drunken fishermen. There was a big rumor among all my friends that he used to smoke beedis and drink alcohol even while he was a teenager. Anthony had started working in a garage when his father decided that he could not force the kid to go to school. Some of the guys used to secretly admire him for the motorcycles he used to drive. Anthony had a roguishly charming looks with fine chiseled features and taut and strong body from menial work. The girls in my group used to whisper and giggle when he used to drive by us on one of his motorcycles. Anthony used to look like a hero from the films that we used to see in the rickety traveling theatre.
The days when the theatre came to the village used to be a lot of fun for all us kids. The cinema used to set up in the fairground during the summer and all the kids used to shout and scramble at the front while the adults were shouting at us to be quiet. I still remember those movies now. The charming prince would fight and kill all the bad guys before walking away into the sunset. I remember seeing the movies with wide eyes and dreaming about my prince charming. The colorful dreams of prancing couples used to play on the white screen rippling in the wind while we sat on our blankets on the bales of grass.
The boatman, Amar got up from the bale of grass he was sitting on and came over. "Are you feeling okay?" I shook my head to say that I was feeling fine. Amar had been going to school and college with us all through these years. Our families have been in the same village for several generations. Amar's father used to bow in respect whenever my father used to walk onto the ferry. While my father enquired about the well being of his family, Amar used to hang on to his father staring wide-eyed at our colorful long skirts. He is all grown up to be a young man and completed his degree just like me. On those long trips I used to take alone on the ferry, he used to keep me company. After school, he used to rush directly to the river to help his father with the ferry. After the evening crowded trips, he used to sit alone in the stern. That was the only time for him to catch up on his reading in the dim lantern while steering the ferry.
The two docks were almost opposite on the riverbanks and there was not much steering to do. There were a few sandbars, which the ferry had to avoid. When Amar used to struggle with the books under the slowly swinging lamp, I used to help in steering the ferry away from the sandbars. It was on one of those sandbars that the burning boat with Anthony finally ran ashore. We were watching from the shore next to the mango orchard. I had taken Sathemma with me to pick some wild mangoes for pickling. The orchard was outside the village and close to Sathemma's hamlet. She used to come every morning to my house to do the household chores while her husband ferried people across the river. While they sent their son to school, they struggled to make ends meet by working at cleaning and transporting people and bushels across the river.
It was among the betel leaf bushels that Anthony must have been asleep. When Anthony got up from among the betel leaves, I was taken totally by surprise. I had not realized there was anyone other than the boatman and me in the ferry. The ferry was anchored next to the sandbar in the middle of the river. I still remember the spreading smile on Anthony's face when our eyes met. I knew many girls were crazy about that smile, but that was not what was on my mind at that moment. The boatman had already walked to the stern of the boat to lift the anchor. Anthony jumped down from atop the bushels and came over and sat next to me. "Did not expect to see me here, did you?" I just looked down at the moist planks of the ferry and drew circles with my toe. I could not speak a single word. "I am sure you remember old Anthony who used to pull your pigtails when you were sitting in the primary school?" Anthony was known to pull the pigtails not only in primary schools but also ladies in the ferry and the bus.
That kiss had been a moment of weakness, a moment of pent up passions from the last fifteen years bursting to the surface. It is difficult to imagine that a person can share a lot more with simple act of physical intimacy than from exchanging years of heart's deepest secrets. The cool summer breeze, the slow rocking cradle of the ferry and the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sandbar conspired to push two souls together. The stillness of the water made me think that even the river was unconscious. For everyone the kiss would have looked like a rash act of passion since they never knew us. As soon as I saw that smile on Anthony's face, I knew he would interpret it the same way. He was known to go around with a lot of teenage girls from the village and the town. I knew the only reason he used to stay away from me was because of the elders.
The elders of my community were inflamed when they heard through the grapevine about my first meeting with Anthony in the orchard. There was no word spoken with my family since the only evidence was the word of Sathemma. The elders had called Sathemma and talked to her when they heard the gossip. But, she was inflamed when they dismissed her word against the reputation of my family. "I only want the best for Amma," she had wailed, "I do not care if my word is taken for truth or not." Sathemma had brought me up since I was baby. After my mother passed away she was the one who took care of me. After that first meeting in the orchard, she always kept watch on me.
I knew the news would get to the elders when I went to the orchard to meet Anthony the second time. I also knew that the rumor was that he was chasing me. After all, everyone in the village knew that I have never strayed from the street to my home from the ferry dock. All the elders in the village know me walking with my head down and arms wrapped around the bag against my bosom. It came as no surprise to me when a bunch of henchmen showed up with sticks and axes at the pier a few minutes after Anthony walked down to meet me. "How dare a heathen lead our girl astray"? Anthony's surprise and shock were totally lost in the maelstrom that ensued. The look in his eyes was very different from the look he had when met me the first time in the mango orchard.
I had to meet Anthony in the orchard after the incident on the ferry. I was afraid that the news of my physical intimacy would get to my father. I asked Sathemma to collect mangoes from the trees close to the road while I wandered towards the pier. Anthony was waiting for me at the pier. "I knew you would come," said Anthony. He started pouring his heart out, "I have been enamored with you since I saw you at the fair last year. You know any girl in the village would be happy to come away with me," he boasted. "I could never dare to ask you before," he continued, "but after I saw the way you kissed that night on the ferry, I know that I do have a chance. We can run away to Mysore and start our life together, far away from anyone in the village." Anthony assured me that it would be difficult to for anyone to find us in Mysore.
"Let us go home Amma, it is getting late," Sathemma walked in on us. I could make out from the expression on her face that she had heard most of what Anthony said. I silently followed Sathemma back towards home. But, what Anthony said was already swirling in my mind like the river in spate. I had never contemplated leaving the village for Mysore. I knew my love would not be accepted in the village, and it had not been on my mind when I fell in love. Actually, it was funny to realize that I was in love only after Anthony said those words; I had never actually termed my feelings as love before. The words about flying away to a new paradise and starting life in Mysore where no one would recognize my face were ringing like the temple bells in my ears. I realized at that moment what I had to do to get out of my predicament.
In a few seconds Anthony was lost under the swinging sticks of the henchmen from the village. Sathemma ran from behind a tree and dragged me off the pier. Two members of the panchayat were shouting orders to the henchmen to break the bones of the heathen. A person who dared to cast his evil eye on the daughter of the village would not be left alive. The limp body of Anthony was thrown onto a leaking rickety boat. Two men set the boat alight and pushed it off into the river. We were standing the shore watching as the boat drifted towards the sandbar while the dry and splintering wood crackled from the fire.
I started when I realized the creaks were not from the boat Anthony was on. Amar was pulling up the sail on the ferry. He saw me shake and walked over to my side. His touch was as gentle as his hands were rough. "Did you have a bad dream?" he asked. "Only bad memories," I answered as he took me in his arms. Every kiss strengthens my love and erases my memories, but my first kiss on that night next to the sandbar was the sweetest. The river did not seem conscious of my doings as the wind filled the sails and took us downstream, towards the city and towards our dreams.