Thimmaiah nodded in approval as Narasamma scowled her disagreement, ‘What you say might be true but it could be too sensitive for your wife.’
‘I would like to see life with maturity and not approach it with sentimentality,’ said Sandhya. ‘I’m glad that I’ve found the right guide in my husband.’
‘That’s the benefit of woman’s education,’ said Thimmaiah greatly impressed.
‘But the real tragedy of man lies not in death but in life itself,’ said Raja Rao characteristically. ‘Man would nurse animosity lacking perceptivity, burdens himself with sentimentality, courts trouble thoughtlessly and then turns to god-men for deliverance. It’s a pity that man meditates for peace of mind having purchased headaches at a discount.’
Seeing the nuptial couple yawn at length, Narasamma suggested that it was time they caught up with lost sleep under the mango tree in the backyard. After siesta, however, at Sandhya’s behest, the aged couple accompanied the newly weds in the evening to the Sathyanarayana Swamy temple on the banks of the village tank.
After the parikrama, they had the Lord’s darshan and sitting by the lake, Narasamma narrated the temple’s legend thus:
When Lega Sathyanarayana of the village went to Annavaram, the Lord visited him in his dream and directed him to begin building a temple for Him at this very spot. Once Lega returned, everything fell into place by the blessings of the Lord and the benevolence of the villagers and the others. It was thus at Godspeed the temple for the Lord was built.
On their return, as the nuptial-couple headed home to have their way, the elderly, while preparing to receive them for dinner, reminisced about the finest day they had in years.
‘Let me repay my debt,’ said Raja Rao picking the soap, as they went into the backyard for bath.
‘Wait for my call,’ she said smiling.
‘Don’t keep me waiting,’ he said ardently.
When they reached the Thimmaiahs place for dinner, seeing Sandhya in an off-white voile sari with maroon border, Narasamma was truly impressed. Though Sandhya returned upbeat after dinner, nevertheless, Raja Rao found Sandhya morose in his embrace.
‘Why darling,’ he said in jest, ‘did the honey turn bitter just after seven spoonfuls.’
‘Don’t be cruel,’ she said. ‘Somehow, I’m missing Roopa, that’s all.’
‘You should’ve opted to be co-wives then,’ he said sharing her mood. ‘Jokes apart, I admire your love.’
‘To tell you the truth,’ said Sandhya smiling, ‘by the time we realized that, we both got married.’
‘By the quirk of fate,’ he said as if to put ideas into her head, ‘it seems, someone had missed so much in life.’