What queer notions ! If you stand on all these absurd antiquated formalities, we shall never get anywhere near a marriage. It is our duty to take the girl over even to Delhi if necessary .

It is your pleasure, then ; you can do what you please ; why consult me ?

Tempers were at their worst, and no progress seemed possible. Time was marching. The postman had got into the habit of dropping in at the end of his days work, and joining in the council.

I am a third party.

Listen to me, he said.

Sir, please take the train to Madras immediately. What you cannot achieve by a years correspondence you can do in an hours meeting.

Here is a letter from Madras, madam. I am sure it is from your husband. What is the news ?

He handed the cover to Ramanujams wife, and she took it in to read. He said :

I have some registered letters for those last houses. I will finish my round, and come back . He returned as promised.

Have they met, madam ?

Yes, Kamakshis father has written that they have met the girl, and from their talk Kamakshis father infers they are quite willing .

Grand news ! I will offer a coconut to our Vinayaka tonight.

But, the lady added, half overwhelmed with happiness and half worried,

there is this difficulty.

We had an idea of doing it during next Thai month.

It will be so difficult to hurry through the arrangements now. But they say that if the marriage THE MISSING MAIL 13 is done it must be done on the twentieth of May. If it is postponed the boy cant many for three years.

He is being sent away for some training .

The old gentleman is as good as his word/ the postman said, delivering an insurance cover to Ramanujam.

He has given the entire amount. You cant complain of lack of funds now. Go ahead. Im so happy you have his approval. More than their money, we need their blessings, sir. I hope he has sent his heartiest blessings .

Oh yes, oh yes, replied Ramanujam, My father-in-law seems to be very happy at this proposal .

A five-thousand-rupee marriage was a big affair for Malgudi. Ramanujam, with so short a time before him, and none to share the task ofarrangements, became distraught. As far as it could go, Thanappa placed himself at his service during all his off hours. He cut short his eloquence, advices, and exchanges in other houses. He never waited for anyone to come up and receive the letters. He just tossed them through a window or an open door with a stentorian Letter, sir. If they stopped him and asked : What is the matter with you ? In such a hurry !

Yes, leave me alone till the twentieth of May. I will come and squat in your house after that and he was off.

Ramanujam was in great tension. He trembled with anxiety as the day approached nearer.

It must go on smoothly. Nothing should prove a hindrance.

Do not worry, sir ; it will go through happily, by G.o.ds grace. You have given them everything they wanted in cash, presents, and style. They are good people .

It is not about that. It is the very last date for the year. If for some reason some obstruction comes up, i4 THE MISSING MAIL it is all finished for ever. The boy goes away for three years. I dont think either of us would be prepared to bind ourselves to wait for three years.

It was four hours past the Muhurtam on the day of the wedding. A quiet had descended on the gathering.

The young smart bridegroom from Delhi was seated in a chair under the pandal. Fragrance of sandal, and flowers, and holy smoke, hung about the air. People were sitting around the bridegroom talking. Thanappa appeared at the gate loaded with letters. Some young men ran up to him demanding : Postman !

Letters ?

He held them off.

Get back. I know to whom to deliver. He walked up to the bridegroom and held up to him a bundle of letters very respectfully.

These are all greetings and blessings from wellwishers, I believe, sir, and my own go with every one of them . He seemed very proud of performing this task, and looked very serious. The bridegroom looked up at him with an amused smile and muttered : Thanks. We are all very proud to have your distinguished self as a son-in-law of this house. I have known that child, Kamakshi, ever since she was a day old, and I knew she would always get a distinguished husband, added the postman, and brought his palms together in a salute, and moved into the house to deliver other letters and to refresh himselfin the kitchen with tiffin and coffee.

Ten days later he knocked on the door and, with a grin, handed Kamakshi her first letter : Ah, scented envelope ! I knew it was coming when the mail van was three stations away. I have seen hundreds like this. Take it from me. Before he has written the tenth letter he will command you to pack up and join him, and you will grow a couple of wings and fly away THE MISSING MAIL 15 that very day, and forget for ever Thanappa and this street, isnt it so ?

Kamakshi blushed, s.n.a.t.c.hed the letter from his hands, and ran in to read it. He said, turning away :

I dont think there is any use waiting for you to finish the letter and tell me its contents.

On a holiday, when he was sure Ramanujam would be at home, Thanappa knocked on the door and handed him a card.

Ah !

cried Ramanujam.

Bad news, Thanappa. My uncle, my fathers brother, is very ill in Salem, and they want me to start immediately.

Im very sorry to hear it, sir, said Thanappa, and handed him a telegram.

Heres another .

Ramanujam cried : A telegram !

He glanced at it and screamed :

Oh, he is dead !

He sat down on the pial, unable to stand the shock. Thanappa looked equally miserable. Ramanujam rallied, gathered himself up, and turned to go in. Thanappa said : One moment, sir. I have a confession to make. See the date on the card.

May the nineteenth, nearly fifteen days ago !

Yes, sir, and the telegram followed next day that is, on the day of the marriage. I was unhappy to see it. c But what has happened has happened, I said to myself, and kept it away, fearing that it might interfere with the wedding .

Ramanujam glared at the postman and said : I.

would not have cared to go through the marriage when he was dying . The postman stood with bowed head and mumbled : You can complain if you like, sir. They will dismiss me. It is a serious offence.

He turned and descended the steps and went down the street on his rounds. Ramanujam watched him dully for a while and shouted : Postman !

Thanappa

i6 THE MISSING MAIL

turned round ; Ramanujam cried : Dont think that I intend to complain. I am only sorry you have done this ,

I understand your feelings, sir, replied the postman, disappearing around a bend.

3.

THE DOCTORS WORD PEOPLE.

came to him when the patient was on his last legs. Dr. Raman often burst out, Why couldnt you have come a day earlier ?

The reason was obvious visiting fee twentyfive rupees, and more than that people liked to shirk the fact that the time had come to call in Dr. Raman ; for them there was something ominous in the very a.s.sociation. As a result when the big man came on the scene it was always a quick decision one way or another. There was no scope or time for any kind ofwavering or whitewashing.

Long years of practice of this kind had bred in the doctor a certain curt truthfulness ; for that very reason his opinion was valued ; he was not a mere doctor expressing an opinion but a judge p.r.o.nouncing a verdict. The patients life hung on his words. This never unduly worried Dr. Raman. He never believed that agreeable words ever saved lives. He did not think it was any of his business to provide unnecessary dope when as a matter of course Nature would teU them the truth in a few hours. However, when he glimpsed the faintest sign of hope, he rolled up his sleeve and stepped into the arena : it might be hours or days, but he never withdrew till he wrested the prize from Tamas hands.

Today, standing over a bed, the doctor felt that he himself needed someone to tell him soothing lies. He mopped his brow with his kerchief and sat down in i8 THE DOCTORS WORD the chair beside the bed. On the bed lay his dearest friend in the world : Gopal. They had known each other for forty years now, starting with their Kindergarten days. They could not, of course, meet as much as they wanted, each being wrapped in his own family and profession. Occasionally, on a Sunday, Gopal would walk into the consulting room, and wait patiently in a corner till the doctor was free. And then they would dine together, see a picture, and talk of each others life and activities. It was a cla.s.sic friendship standing over, untouched by changing times, circ.u.mstances, and activities.

In his busy round of work, Dr. Raman had not noticed that Gopal had not called in for over three months now. He just remembered it when he saw GopaPs son sitting on a bench in the consulting hall, one crowded morning. Dr. Raman could not talk to him for over an hour. When he got up and was about to pa.s.s on to the operation room, he called up the young man and asked, What brings you here, sir ?

The youth was nervous and shy.

Mother sent me here.

What can I do for you ?

Father is iU It was an operation day and he was not free till three in the afternoon. He rushed off straight from the clinic to his friends house, in Lawley Extension.

Gopal lay in bed as if in sleep. The doctor stood over him and asked Gopals wife, How long has he been in bed ?

A month and a half, doctor.

Who is attending him ?