Self-Done

(Swayamkrutam)
Tripuraneni Gopichand

Translator

GRK Murty
 About the Author

Tripuraneni Gopichand (1910-1962), of Tenali, Andhra Pradesh, India, is a

Telugu short story writer, novelist, editor, essayist, playwright and film
director. His writings exhibit an exceptional interplay of values, ideas and
„isms‟—materialism, rationalism, existentialism, realism and humanism. He is
well-known among Telugu literati for his psychological novel—
Asamardhuni Jeevayatra (The Incompetent’s Life Journey). He was
posthumously presented the Sahitya Akademi Award for his novel,
Panditha Parameshwara Sastry Veelunama (Will of Panditha
Parameshwara Sastry), in 1963. Radical humanist, profound thinker,
philosopher, social reformer and an inveterate votary of truth, Gopichand
was a versatile genius, which reflects well in his scintillating stories that are
told in crisp language. His stories pose many questions that challenge the
wit of readers.
Seeing Syamala packing her suitcase, Gopalam asked, “Where
are you going?”

Without responding, Syamala furiously shuts the suitcase with a

bang. He senses that his wife is quite angry. Of late, there are
frequent instances of his wife becoming angry on all and
sundry, and arguing even over petty issues. He was quite
disturbed by it. But could not ascertain the underlying reason
for such behavior even after deep contemplation. Believing
that time would settle everything, he preferred to keep quiet.

“Why don‟t you reply?” asked Gopalam.

“I have no need to talk to anybody. I am going to my brother,”

saying, Syamala started walking out with suitcase in hand.

Gopalam is stunned as though someone had whipped him. He

could not understand what was happening nor could he
believe what was happening right in front of his eyes. His wife,
his Syamala, is she to desert him? Why? What was that he had
done? What pain had he caused her that made her prefer
even to lead a supportless life on roads rather than live with
him? All these thoughts flashed in his mind at once.

Involuntarily, he asked, “When will you be back, Syamala?”

His tone trembled. It sounded melancholic.

Hearing his voice, Syamala turned back swiftly, face reddened

with anger. With pent-up emotions, she appeared to be
suffocated. Heart was beating fast.

“You ask me shamelessly? I shall not. As long as I breathe, I

won‟t see your face. I may as well live by begging. Else, may kill
…” she could not complete.

“Why, what did I do?” asked Gopalam. Asked, hiding his face
behind his palm just to evade her rude reproach. He didn‟t ask
her. He questioned himself. Not questioned himself, but cursed.
No, it‟s not cursing himself. He punished himself.

Syamala is in no mood to understand his mental status. She

pounces like a cobra that was stamped hard on the tail.
“Aren‟t you aware of what you did? Imprisoning me in the
house; treating me worse than a maid servant; wandering
yourself day and night as you fancied … do you think, I am a
human being! or, an animal? Dumping a few saris and blouses
for my use and feeding me daily are what you thought enough
for me! You thought you can play as you pleased! Instead of
being a wife to a self-centered cheat like you, it‟s better to live
dishwashing in a couple of houses.”

In spite of this long emotional outburst, Gopalam failed to

understand the underlying problem. With great surprise and
shock he just listens to her. Recovering himself, he asked, “Why
are you so angry? What did I do? At least, tell me the reason.”

“Ah, drinking milk with closed eyes, the cat believes that
nobody is seeing her? You think I haven‟t noticed your
behavior for the last four months! What after all with this fool, if
ever she doubts me, you thought, „if I buy a blouse piece she
would be happy‟ …. In the last four months, have you ever
come home well in time …. Have you ever come home before
twelve O‟ clock? ….”

Syamala lists out his crimes without even pausing for breath.
Unable to listen any further, he says, “You are unnecessarily
worrying by imagining the non-existent. You are aware how
occupied I am with so many tasks. Koduru village has lost its
crops in the floods. The laborers have lost everything, including
shelter, and are starving for food. Donations are being
collected for them. Knowing it fully well if you doubt me, what
can I do. Working for the fellow beings has also become a
crime! You are an intelligent woman, …”

“Stop it! It is with these gullible talks you have brought me to this
stage. Making me believe about your social service and
donations, your romancing with Yasoda, you think, no one is
aware ….”

“Syamala!” Yelling angrily and forgetting himself, Gopalam

stepped forward.

“I know all your deeds. Saying this and that and confining me
to home, you return home as you wish, and over it tell me
gullible stories. However stupid I may be, you think I can‟t
understand this even? You have made me worse than a
cooking maid. You are giving me a few morsels of food and a
pair of clothes for all that hard labor I am rendering you day in
and day out. I cannot put up with this humiliation. You wander
with your Yasoda as you wish. Parks, coffee hotels, meetings,
what not, take her with you all around.” She swiftly walks out
with suitcase in hand.
Gopalam‟s head reeled. He could not utter a single word. He
sat flat. Their past life flashed at once in his mind.

He had been working in politics much before his marriage.

Theirs was a love marriage. On whatever work he had been
out, and however belated he might have been to home,
Syamala used to await his return. Whatever his setbacks or the
sufferings outside the house might be, once back home and
under the care of Syamala, he enjoyed peace of mind. It is all,
he thought, because of her….

He wanted to make her the queen of the house. Right from

decorating the house to what to cook was left to her. He never
interfered in it. If she asked for anything relating to the house he
would say: “Your will, I have given you all the freedom to
decide about everything relating to home.” Coming to issues
lying outside the house, he felt he was independent. It was his
firm belief that it is wrong for a woman to interfere in outside
issues and for the man to interfere in the home matters. It is
quite a natural division. As it was going on like this, one day his
brother-in-law came. He belonged to a different political
ideology. Seeing his family life, he said: “Along with you, let
Syamala too join the politics, bava1?”

Gopalam then narrated his perceptions to his brother-in-law.

“Independence of women” doesn‟t mean women competing

with men. By birth there exists difference between a man and a
woman. Owing to their innate nature, man is fit to lead a life of
helping his community, while woman is fit to set right the
domestic life. So, they must lead their lives in such a way that
they can mutually support each other‟s pursuit. Such wedlock
alone is an ideal one. Else, there would be no amicability in the
family. Instead, hatred will creep into wedlock. Life then
becomes miserable. If a woman wants to acquire worldly
knowledge, she can as well obtain it by reading newspapers
sitting at home. But it is not desirable for women to participate
in people‟s movements.

1
Bava—brother-in-law.
Listening to these words, his brother-in-law said: “Bava, till date
you both are having a good life. But over a period of time, as
you continue to participate in people‟s struggle, you will
cultivate a unique cultured behavior of your own, while
Syamala, being tied down to domestic life, will acquire a
different behavior. Then conflict becomes inevitable. Your
wedded life will then become worse than ordinary people‟s
wedlock. Listen to me, whatever social life you are cultivating
outside home, do make it known to Syamala too. Otherwise,
one day or the other you may burn out with regret.”

At these words, he laughed within himself. He thought that his

brother-in-law can say so, for he belongs to a party that
advocates participation of men and women in political
movements irrespective of gender difference. He even
wondered, how could he so soon forget the accusations that
the public heaped on their party earlier, for such behavior? He
inferred that by adopting Western culture, they had become
bad.

But looking at his life introspectively, it appeared what his

brother-in-law said has come true.

His participation in people‟s struggle benefited him with varied

experiences. It acquainted him with different kinds of people.
Enabled him to experience a variety of concepts. As a result,
working for the good of the nation had become everything for
him. He could even decide to surrender everything he had for
the nation. The horizon of his heart had indeed broadened. On
the other hand, as the days rolled, Syamala‟s behavior began
exhibiting increasing signs of narrow-mindedness. Family had
become everything for her. Beyond its boundaries everything
appeared dark for her. Her husband and their pleasures alone
mattered for her happiness. Once or twice she even expressed
her displeasure at her husband‟s overspending.

“It is for the nation,” he had said. But that answer didn‟t satisfy
her. She asserted: “Family needs must be taken care of. Family
first, and the nation next.” As days passed, she changed even
further. She wanted gold jewelry made for her. She expressed
her discomfort to be without gold bangles on hands and a
chain in the neck, for people were ridiculing her. As anyway
the property will soon evaporate, she demanded that the 10
acres of land given in marriage as dowry be transferred in her
name. At least that would remain as a source of livelihood.

Believing that she would change, he had silently put up with

everything, while she believing that he would change,
continued to bear some of his acts.
But neither of them changed. Squabbles had become a
routine of the family. She started disputing every rupee spent by
him. She reached a stage where torturing alone had become
her bliss.

Now, it reached a climax. It was true that he and Yasoda were

jointly collecting donations. It was also true that they both were
working together. But, he never dreamt that his wife, Syamala,
could think of him so poorly. She had changed. Her way of life
and her friendships had cumulatively changed her completely.
Now, what to do? Whatever he may say, she will not believe.
She no longer has the liberality to believe that wife and
husband can as well work together with unblemished hearts.

What is to be done? Is it that his relationship with Syamala is all

set for termination? Is he to live with this allegation for the rest of
his life?

In a flash of a second, all these memories came alive before

him. Overtaken by sorrow, he felt helpless. Immediately, he
remembered what his brother-in-law had warned. “As a
participant in people‟s struggle, you will cultivate a different
culture … then conflict is inevitable. Your domestic life will then
become worse than the wedlock of ordinary men and women.
Believe me.”
Remembering these words, Gopalam felt that all this is his fault.
Shedding tears, he murmured in a choked voice: “self-done,”
“self-done.”

*****