Write the summary of the story : – The White Dove

A match was being arranged for Radha’s eldest son. This, for everybody concerned was an occasion of immense rejoicing. She should been beside herself with joy thinking of the authority and the rest she would get as a mother-in-law. She should have been but she was not. Her eyes, lack-luster and deep set in lined sockets, kept wandering over the two rooms that were her home. In the fading light of the dusk, the rooms looked bleak, spots of fungus marked out on the decrepit, pointless walls.

They were ten in number. Radha, Vaman, her husband, their four sons, Vaman’s widowed aunt, her two daughters, living amidst pyramids of tin trunks, piles of mattresses, rows and rows of clothes hung on walls and foot wear strewn all over the floor.

There was a loud scramble under the windowsill, doves and pigeons scrimmaging over scoops then having a fast hearty coo before retiring for the night. The white perched on the window still giving impatient turns of his plumb neck and protesting loudly. Every day he came, the white dove, with the regularity of clockwork and refused to be shooed away until plied with a Chapati. Frantically Radha rolled out a perfect round of a paper-thin Chapati, roosted it on the iron pan placed on the kerosene stove and offered it to the dove. Hungrily the dove hobbled nearer and began to eat out of her hand. It was the first time that it had shown such intimacy and it warmed Radha. Her jaded eyes began to glow and the lines on her face softened.

Chandu, Radha’s third son had returned from work and stood before her a little over twenty-four, a thin in a wiry way with an angular face that was intensely alive and set in a permanent half-grin. That was news in the early morning that the girl’s people would be coming to discuss the dowry late at night, after dinner. A marriage was being fixed, dowry was being discussed. It was a major social event to be discussed. Chandu wanted to know whether the girl’s people would be coming to discuss or not. His hopes had built up to a feverish tempo in recent days. The eldest would really be married off this year and the soon the second one too would have a wife of his own and then it would be Chandu’s turn to get wedded. He was impatiently waiting for that happy day. When he was confirmed that they were coming after dinner, he was grinning again and humming a love song under his breath.

It was a natural desire and Radha did not grudge it to them. Indeed, she had been the first to think of marriage for the eldest four years back when he became permanent at his job. She had even selected a few photographs exhibited to them by parents of marriageable girls. But something had always come up, Vaman had come down with a prolonged sickness, his brother had been retrenched, his sister’s daughter had to be married off and of course there was always the problem of cramped quarters.

The words of Chandu gave Radha a stab of remembrance, unlocking ancient memories, Radha was not even aware excites. She was eighteen, and then engaged to be married to Vaman in a week’s time. They were not allowed to talk to each other or go out together. Radha was returning from the bazaar lugging a heavy vegetable sack in the crook of her left arm. Suddenly she saw Vaman walking towards her and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes convinced her, he was out to have a few words with her.

Unexpectedly there was a flutter above her and two fighting birds landed right on her tiny shoulders. The sack thudded on to the pavement and onions and potatoes rolled down the lane, people were already around her enquiring if she was hurt and trying to retrieve the vegetables. Her face had crimsoned and her ear lobes ached from shame, knowing all the while that Vaman was bound to be around.

And in the general confusion he found time to say: “Don’t worry. It is a white dove, a symbol of love”.

Vaman was twenty-two then; firm fleshed with thick oiled hair, a strong jaw and tender eyes, not the slightly bent, jaded, bald, shortsighted man that he had now become. All throughout the week before marriage, his eyes had haunted. Radha and his words kept ringing musically in her ears. Radha wondered, was it love? Was it youth?

The chapation on the pan was burning Cahndhu shrieked. Radha came to the present world and started as if she had been caught reading pornography. Muttering apologies, she scraped off the pan and placed a fresh chapati on it.

By half pas eight, everyone had finished eating, the remaining food tucked away and Sigree put out. The outer room was swept and chairs borrowed from neighbours to accommodate the visitors. Vaman’s brother had come over to take part in the discussions and Radha’s sons were packed off into the common passage outside with their sheets, pillows and mats. The kitchen too was strewn with their mats and sheets and the light switched off. But everyone was agog with excitement and sleep had forsaken them.

Radha’s sister-in-law reported that they were three, the girl’s brother, an uncle and a cousin. The discussion started. Vaman began that their expectation was then thousand. The daughter’s brother wailed that it was a heavy charge for them. The cousin said that the girl’s father had died at a most inopportune moment. They had to pay for her education, the education of her younger brother and sister. Then the uncle of the daughter said that they could afford only five thousand.

Vaman’s brother came up with his protest and said that five thousand was nothing. Radha’s sister-in-law remarked that it was not seem to be coming to an understanding. The deal was falling through. Radha’s heart sank to her tired feet. She thought of Chandu, he would be furious, he would never stop shouting and blaming. Huddled awkwardly between the sack of lentils and the pitcher of pickled mangoes, Radha’s body convulsed with silent sobs.

Then Vaman came from the discussion and woke Radha up. It was around three. He said her that the marriage was fixed. They had agreed to give seven thousand.

Out in the passage Chandu had overslept from nervous exhaustion. But now he too was in the kitchen dancing a twisted version of a rumba. He said that he would take the day off and get a carpenter. Might as well started the work on the loft right then. They would have a screen to cover the loft, a good ladder to go up there and a few repairs here and there. He mused aloud joyfully looking at the platform that was to be the abode of the married couple.

Radha nodded glumly and served him a cup of tea and two sweet biscuits, their usual breakfast. Outside, the day had broken, the peepal swayed gently in the breeze, chawls and roads were powdered with pale gold. The white dove reappeared by the Tulsi plant hungering for his morning repast.

Chandu started to quip, grin broadened and eyes gleaming and told that it was that dove again. It was a good omen. Radha was inexplicably vehement. Ruthlessly she shooed away the dove, then broke into sobs. They all diagnosed, happiness always brings an attack.